All language subtitles for 25_Les Chenilles

In the year 462, in the era of Mikado You-Laïk,

a Japanese prince told women
working in silk production:

''Between your breasts lies the ideal
temperature to breed silkworms".

Between our breasts,
silkworms spin into cocoons.

The women who extracted,

spun and wove the silk

spun and wove the silk

but were never able to wear it.

It was then that problems started.

My story started in the 19th century,

when ambassadors from French silk factories

when ambassadors from French silk factories

spread in Mount Lebanon and in the Levant region.

Diseases plagued their silkworms,

so they turned their gaze towards our countries.

They offered money to peasants to destroy

and to replace their farmlands with mulberry trees.

The peasants saw it as an opportunity,

The peasants saw it as an opportunity,

and exterminated 40% of their farmlands
that provided them with food.

They planted mulberry trees instead.

Silk factories sprouted in our region.

But the peasants didn’t consider
that in a few decades,

But the peasants didn’t consider
that in a few decades,

French factories might leave to find better
grounds in other industrial countries.

And the mulberry leaves,
which fed their silkworms,

would not feed them.

The Caterpillars

Would I be here if they hadn’t
destroyed farmlands?

If the famine hadn’t happened?

If we didn't rely on other countries

and focused on feeding ourselves instead?

Why think about these things now,
when I can’t do anything?

Take it back to the kitchen!

She's trying her best, but honestly...

No, this is unbearable.

She's a butterfly, she won't last ten days.

What?

Give me back my lighter!

When silk ambassadors from Lyon and Marseille

spread in Mount Lebanon,

they fostered the birth of orphanages,

they fostered the birth of orphanages,

to recruit young girls for their factories.

They asked men to allow their
wives and underaged daughters

to work in the factories.

It was the first time women
could work out of the home

and earn a salary.

The sight of those independent
women was a sour one for men.

But the money their women produced
made them look the other way.

Women's hands are smaller and more skillful.

Small hands soaked in chemicals,

to get the silk thread out from the cocoons.

Hands that had to sign contracts
the women couldn't read.

Contracts that stated that they were in debt,

forced to work in the factory forever,

turning them into ''factory girls".

They say that in the damp, dark factories,

the sound of the machines was so loud

that women were not able to talk to each other.

Still friendships were formed.

The kinds of friendship that could save a soul.

Here's the bill for your table.

Let's get out of here!

Sarah! What's wrong?

Damn it! The bill!

The bill!

I felt that she wasn’t only running after the clients.

But running after decades of unpaid work,

after the emperor who placed
insects between her breasts,

after the owners of factories who made
her sign contracts she couldn't read.

Running after her colleague who takes her lighter

and pretends he never knew it wasn’t his.

Or maybe running after her entitled boyfriend who lied,

or after her boss who makes her work till 7:30pm,

when her shift ends at 6pm.

I felt she was running after every person

who thought she wasn’t able to run.

I will speak to them, don't worry.

I will solve this, don't worry.

Watch out!

I blame it on the naïve silkworm.

Spider’s threads are said to be stronger and nicer.

The best silk could be made out of their threads!

But spiders only produce silk threads to hunt,

But spiders only produce silk threads to hunt,

to move from one place to another, to kill for self-defense.

Unlike silkworms who were bred to produce silk to death.

Unlike the naive silkworm, spiders
couldn’t be controlled by anyone.

The Thread

Since I arrived in this country,

the more I try to forget things, the more I remember.

My body seems to be overreacting to things,

or not reacting at all.

As if my body was not adapting to this new place,

as if it is also refusing to forget.

My body has adapted to constant emergencies,

to shutting off any kind of reaction

and letting things pass.

Forgetting to count the days,
it just let the years pass.

I look at people with flowers in their hands,

people going to work, having lunch in the sun,

I feel a heaviness.

A heaviness in my chest to be precise.

It stifles my breath.

Every time I encounter “Lightness”,

it brings back all the heaviness and guilt.

What should I tell her so that she calms down?

That she is like me, a butterfly?

Or should I tell her of that thin thread that binds us?

Hey Mom, how are you doing?

I am doing very well.

The day I arrived, I cried for one
hour and a half, and that was it.

The day I arrived, I cried for one
hour and a half, and that was it.

The exact waiting time for foreigners
to pass the passport security check.

No more, no less.

Shortly after, I realized that in a new city,

Shortly after, I realized that in a new city,

I could become a new person.

I could become a new person.

Like a cliché from films. It was tempting.

Suddenly I felt angry about something from the past.

A sort of a déjà vu…

From the middle of the 19th century to be exact.

When after years of working
in dark silk factories,

women decided to buy something for themselves

with their own hard-earned salaries.

That’s when this proverb was born:

''All that the brunette makes,

she spends on lipstick and makeup''.

How come the women who soaked
their hands in chemicals,

who weaved for centuries to produce silk,
were never able to wear it?

Order!

Good morning, Madame Caroline,

I am actually still outside.

I couldn't find a solution for the keys yet.

Can you please call me back? Thank you.

Here is your jacket.

Thank you.

Want a cigarette?

I don't know how to roll it.

I can roll it for you.

Let me try.

What will you do?

With?

With the keys…?

Handling it. I spoke to my friend,
will see what happens.

If you want, I live in a shared home,
and we have a free couch that...

No, no. Don't worry.

I will see what happens. Goodbye!

I will walk with you.

You've been living here for a long time?

Kind of. Around five years.

Do you think of going back for a visit some time?

Yes, Batoul! Yes, tell me!

I see... It's not an issue that you're out of town.

But are you seriously telling me to ask him?

After all he has done? Unbelievable...

I cannot speak to him!

It’s fine! I’ll find a solution. Bye.

It's all good. I arrived. Thank you.

I will stay here, tell me if all is fine.

There is absolutely no need.

I will stay.

Other than the pomegranate sauce?

Garlic mix, it's unbelievable!

You can't imagine how much garlic changes the taste.

You can't imagine how much garlic changes the taste.

Garlic and pomegranate sauce together?

I've never tasted that. It sounds delicious.

The tunnel bothers me, all closed up and dark.

A walk along the Silk Road

Are you sleepy?

Yes, a bit.

Cheers!

A beer is great right now.

I am unable to sleep at home anyway,

the shared home makes me anxious,
all crowded with people.

To be honest, I prefer to just walk.

So I cook all these dishes... I cook and cook

but the food turns out inedible.

I take pictures of them anyway,
and send them to her,

to make her feel I’m eating well.
Then I throw them out right after.

But at least the smell of the house
becomes familiar, like a good memory.

I can’t get stuffed zucchini right.

I don’t get any dish right!

Even better!

Last year I was able to see her.

But there was something so strange
that I couldn’t see on Skype or WhatsApp.

When I saw her in front of me,
I realized she had changed a lot:

She seemed much older.

Was she good?

She was good yes,

but you can see the traces of time
on her face; her hair was so white.

My phone is ''high tech'',
but it couldn’t capture this detail.

Those details aren't visible on Skype,
that's the problem.

Lately I haven't been able to watch
anything other than videos

related to nature, animals, water, sea...

Do you feel like swimming?

No, thank you.

It's really nice.

The water is cold at this time,
and that light!

No, I'd rather not.

Why?

It makes me nervous.

How come you are scared of everything?

You know what I think?

I think that you are scared of being scared.

Yes. And?

I don't like that feeling at all.

But what if, sometimes,

you can try to let go just a little bit.

That's what you think?

You don’t have to deny the fear that much.

Now we’re here, sitting by the water,

looking at a beautiful sky.

I don't know. There is no real sense of balance.

Maybe she could tell
that I knew her secret,

why she couldn’t breathe
when the glass broke,

why she prefers to walk
rather than come back home

and not be able to sleep.

Those nightmares that follow us
from one country to another.

I knew she couldn't fight back anymore,
and why she was in this city.

I knew her mind had not yet understood
that things are safe now.

It still insists on telling her: do something!

Even when there is nothing to do.

That strange feeling,
when there is no emergency situation,

for those of us not used to living without it.

When the calm after the storm
takes the form of a void,

the absence of stress becomes
another problem to solve.

All this, I understood the moment
I saw her on table number four.

I still don't know the difference between
the Saône and the Rhône.

You see where I am?

Where?

This is me holding you
after I pushed you the other day.

If that's your way of apologizing, then apology accepted.

But if you look closely,

if you are the person carrying the other one,

then you are carrying yourself.

This is a person holding up his own weight.
They have the same face.

It’s the same person.

Hold me!

Suddenly, in an unfamiliar place,
everything felt familiar.

I understood that our story
started centuries ago.

Centuries of darkness have
infiltrated our thoughts,

our eyes, our hair.

I thought, maybe she was right…

Without diving into darkness,
I won't be able to rest.

I asked myself, how can someone,
who was a stranger just a few hours ago,

become a childhood friend
from dusk till dawn?

Did you like it?

They say that in the dark, damp factories,
the sound of the machines was so loud

that women were not able to talk to each other.

Still, friendships were formed.

The kinds of friendship that could save a soul.

The Caterpillars