Island of Flowers/Fiji Water: Spin The Bottle Analyses
At the beginning of the film, Portuguese words fill the screen, with subtitles underneath that read “THIS IS NOT A FICTION FILM.” Immediately, I am hooked, like a reader on the first page of a book. What will this be about? Off of the little information I am given, I assume it will be about an island of flowers. Shortly after the film begins, however, I realize there is more to it than just an island of flowers. When watching films, we are used to plots, clear narrative structures, opening scenes, climaxes, and resolutions. We are also, as humans, intrigued by the new. What we don’t know and then learn, or what doesn’t remind us of anything else, we want to take part in. Perhaps this could be said of any great artist – yes, they are inspired by others before them, but they have their own style.
Island of Flowers possesses this newness. Before an image even flashes on the screen, we are told that there is a place called the Island of Flowers, and “THERE IS NO GOD.” These seem to be bold statements to make before the film has started. What I enjoy most about the film is the stark contrast in each character and location the audience is introduced to. The director includes people in each scene, adding an element of personification that allows us to put ourselves in these people’s shoes.
No, I am not a tomato farmer in Brazil, but for a minute I imagine what life would be like if I was. I am not a mother grocery shopping and cooking for my family, but for a minute I can imagine what life would be like if I was. I live on earth, and the commonality between each setting and person is earth itself. Beautiful earth, with beautiful tomatoes, and then there is the Island of Flowers. An ironically named place, which would be untouched if it were not for the immense amount of garbage dumped there from all over the world.
Fiji, as a geographical location, shares similar traits with the Island of Flowers. As a result of another country, or even the world, which has its values in a mixed up order, Fiji has lost permission to be its own place. Life for people in Fiji is not what it should be, and people in other countries benefit from Fijian’s misery by having aesthetically pleasing, trendy water bottles available on every street corner. What surprises me most is that no one knows the effects the Fiji water company has had on Fiji. Someone, I can’t remember who, told me a year or two ago, “Fiji has no water because of Fiji water. You shouldn’t drink it.” This announcement was not delivered in a commanding tone. It was actually quite blasé.
The way my mind works, I remembered this phrase each time I bought a bottle of water (and I am a hypocrite because I do drink water out of plastic bottles, which means I am not doing my best concerning the Island of Flowers). Since reading the Fiji Water: Spin The Bottle piece, many people have attempted to purchase Fiji waters in my presence, and none have gotten away with it.
I’m no saint. I don’t think I’m smarter, or am a better person, because I read an article online shown to me by a friend in one of my classes. Just… How is it that we aren’t aware of these things already? We didn’t know about the Island of Flowers, we didn’t know about Fiji water. We benefit from privilege, turn blind eyes. The people in charge are very good at lying, very good indeed. But we don’t stare them in the eyes and watch their reactions as we question them the way we would with an unfaithful lover, we do not seem to be as worried as we should be.
It’s sad. Yes, speak up, raise your voice, hold your values close, practice empathy and open mindedness, listen to those who no one listens to. Is this enough? Is this enough when money, as a whole, seems to be the world’s primary concern? Those with the most money have the most power. Could that change even if millions of people got together with the same point of view and go against it?
Last winter I went to Belize. It is beautiful there. Beautiful is the best word to describe it. Even without heaps of money, the people seem happy, leading simple, happy lives. Lives less focused on social status and more focused on family, friends, the ocean, the day to day.
We took a river tour on a small boat, through the rainforest, looking for crocodiles and different birds. We went into the rainforest, hacking branches to create a trail. We heard the howler monkeys. Loud, powerful screeches descending from the treetops. One American thought they were speakers planted in the trees, as if their existence and sound was only a hoax.
As we headed back we spoke to our guide, Steven, about all the construction in the middle of the ocean between our hotel and the river.
“They are building a Scandinavian cruise line. Soon, there will be helicopter tours, the air will be filled with the sounds of machines made by men. You better come back before it’s like that. Yes, I’ll make more money, there will be one hundred people in a boat instead of three, like with you, now. I’ll make more money. But I would rather it stay how it is, quiet and clean. You better see Belize before it changes.”
The howler monkeys will not be heard over the sounds of the helicopters.
We isolate ourselves from nature by building cities and roads out of concrete, glass, extinguishing every color that grows out of the earth, replicating colors with paint. Clothing dye used to come strictly from plants. Certain countries, like India, are known for their bright clothing because of the surplus of dye plants that was available in those countries. Now, we can extract dye in scientific ways. Accessibility is no longer based off of local resources, but financial ones.
The man who started the Fiji water company, David Gilmore, covered up all of his wrongdoings with pretty pennies from his business suit pockets. A man like Gilmore breaks the law and people would rather hide under tables than stand up and confront him. Powerful people can get away with anything. The powerless are left to clean up messes.
As the women and children on the Island of Flowers wait in line to collect trash which they then consume, the people of Fiji are forced to break open fire hydrants in order to consume water. Food and water are necessities. These people are not asking for private jets, vacation homes, mansions, new couture clothing, or flat screen TV’s. Well… Technically, they aren’t asking for anything, because the microphone that is money is out of their reach. But if they were to ask, it would be for bare necessities.
This is not news. Many of us are aware of the inequalities that have and continue to persist, time and time again, with no concrete resolutions. Concrete buildings without concrete resolutions. Perhaps that is why Island of Flowers refrains from a classical narrative structure, refrains from a resolution. Because in real life, unlike in Hollywood films, there are no resolutions.
In The United States, children from lower class families are told to study hard, obtain scholarships, attend big name colleges, and receive high paying jobs. In many other countries, the upper class is the equivalent of America’s lower class. The lower class of those countries are scarcely encouraged to do anything at all.
Ironic that America is the newest country, which some people use as a reason for its progression as well as it’s failures. Other countries are older. They are built off of tradition, tradition that is engrained in their existences like gum on a shoe.
Does America’s newness give it permission to exploit older countries? We bash tradition.
We do not receive a flyer before our mother becomes pregnant, with a list of questions including, “Where would you like to be born?”, “What income would you like your future family to withhold?”, “What color skin would you like? Eyes? Hair?”… Much of our inherent traits, our nationalities, our appearances, the financial stability of the families… These are all out of our control.
Is that not reason enough to hold back from the exploitation of other innocent people in innocent countries?
How does a man like David Gilmore, with plenty of money already, decide it is alright to strip another country of its own water?
Oh, and it’s okay, because they’re very good people… Haven’t you heard? Those people donated to that environmental association, some charity or another… Yes, they’ve travelled abroad… Yes, they know what’s going on…
When they travelled abroad, were they confined to the walls of their five star hotels? Did they only visit that one market, the “safe” one, to buy some trinkets to bring home… Some nice incense, a Buddha statue to place in their Los Angeles living room?
Not every rich person is exploitative or mean. Not every American is exploitative or mean. Or both. It seems, though, that money has become a protective shield to any wrong doing. A sound protected room with a person inside screaming swear words, screaming slurs.
It’s easy to look away from suffering when the only reminder of it is a homeless person or an SPCA commercial.
Not many Americans decide to vacation in places where reality is real. Families on the upper east side of New York, they love St. Barth’s, Anguilla, Turks and Caicos. They love the climate, the nice hotel they stay in or the house they built, all the other families they know who vacation there too…
Do they love the people in those countries? Do they learn their customs and traditions? Do they look inside themselves before looking outside?
It’s hard to focus on one issue when there are countless issues. And even still, to a certain degree, I don’t even know what I’m talking about. Life is a sum total of experiences, and experiences matter when we understand how we relate to those experiences. All I have are my experiences. It is the same with every other human on earth.
If I was born into another family, in another place, raised with different values, the words on this page would be different. I don’t know what they would say.
Any time I have travelled to a place that would not be labelled a “holiday destination”, I come back to America with a different perspective. It seems obscure to worry about getting into a nightclub when people are born into a cast system, and if you happen to be born into the lowest one, and brush by someone on the street from a higher one, they must go home and shower before they continue on doing what they were doing. Part of this is tradition, and the part that is tradition is not waiting in line for a night club.
It seems obscure to avoid reading when I can afford books, or complain about the weather when I have a coat. Cliché, yes. These issues, as exhausting as they are to hear (and though I may sound like I have put myself on a pedestal…) have not been exhausted enough.
There’s smog in the air, we talk about it, some of us act on it, but there’s some answer we haven’t found yet that we need to find soon.
Where is the answer? If you know, or someone you know knows, speak up. Maybe the richest man in the world knows. Maybe the poorest man in the world knows. It could be anyone, anywhere. It could be all of us.
It seems extreme. It is.
Empathy. I feel like a preacher. Some of those who have been wronged feel in the right, and some of those who have been righted feel in the wrong.
Maybe everything is existential. States of matter.
Barns are painted red because red is the cheapest color of paint, and red is the cheapest color of paint because it’s made from iron, and iron is the last element to fall from a dying star. It is plentiful.
A woman on the street in a big warm coat just walked by, sobbing.
I wonder why she’s sobbing. I can’t know. I don’t. Even the smartest astrologers can’t explain the entire universe.
Here I am, saying what matters, meaning it, too, but why are things the way they are?
This is why I love to read. Anyone from any country should, at the very least, be entitled to food, water, shelter, and books.
We seem to be so devoured by what doesn’t really help us.
Devoured by what doesn’t help us while others are unable to devour food.