The Source Page #4

like in those Mexican TV soaps.

Do you have any idea

what phone bills can be ?

Take my advice,

don't be in a rush for

water and electricity,

you're better off now !

Sami.

I saw the head of the school

at the market.

Parents are complaining about you:

You have a bad influence

on their children.

I'm trying to teach them

to think for themselves.

Don't forget,

it's our only income.

I'm well aware of that.

People in the village are saying

that Leila's put a spell on you.

I love Leila like my own daughter...

may Allah be my witness.

But if you don't want to divorce her,

marry a younger one

to give you children.

That'd bring peace...

the village is divided.

Don't say anything.

Think about it.

If you take another wife,

I'm leaving!

You'll never see me again!

They're saying

you're a witch.

I shouldn't have taught you to read,

I've woken the devil in you.

I'm confused...

do you support me or not ?

I support you,

but it's tearing our world apart.

It's become a complete shambles.

Shambles ?

It was that already.

But only we saw it,

and we said nothing.

You're just like the rest !

"The Love-Strike Village"

Nobody saw anyone.

I'm looking for Karim,

do you know him ?

Tarik!

Take...

What's your name ?

Sofiane Ben Chedid!

Mohamed.

Take Mr Sofiane to Karim's.

'Bye.

If you need something,

call me or my wife.

All the family

is at your disposal.

Thanks

You're doing a report on...?

Insects,

Infinitely small ones...

"The Teeny-Weenies".

Infinitely small...

We should talk to a journalist.

He'll write an article,

then the government will be aware

and do something about our request.

Give it to Sofiane.

He's cute.

He can serenade me any time.

While he tickles your

"infinitely small".

It's war !

You and your "infinitely small".

"Studying insects"...!

He's taking the mickey out of you.

He must be a journalist

called here by the women !

We must be vigilant.

Not a word about the strike !

Mr Sofiane... Sami.

You have to write

in support of our situation:

Too many villages are still

without water and electricity.

This country must modernise.

I'm only interested in insects.

Not politics.

Is the plight of our women,

too big an issue for you ?

You're only interested in

the "infinitely small" ?

Our lives...

aren't small enough

to interest you ?

It's simply not my domain.

Come on !

Sorry about that.

He's snubbing us !

He's playing 'Mr City Intellectual',

like we were halfwits !

he's paying for his room,

and I need the money.

Leila here ?

- Come in.

- No, tell her to come out.

How are you ? Family well ?

Fine. And yours ?

Fine. What do you want with Leila?

To talk to her about our strike,

that I know you're all for,

and to tell her what a wonderful

mother-in-law you are.

He's waiting for you at the well.

Now.

No risk of seeing a man up there.

Try and go alone...

stay away from the other women.

He really is a handsome chap !

Leila!

What are you doing here ?

My mother died.

I've come to see you.

Go away !

I'm married !

Empty ?

I fell.

He's not here to help us.

I'm tired.

Is there a problem ?

No, I'm just tired.

They're not bringing us water.

The journalist

doesn't want to help us,

he's a spineless wimp,

a city snob,

who thinks he's superior.

It'll get violent.

When the men are at the end of their tether,

we should expect the worst.

We'll fight.

One of the effects of drought

is the disappearance of

a wide variety of insects.

Those that survive

are only interested

in finding one thing:

Water.

The diversity of the very small,

is dying out.

With the death of the smallest...

Write to S'lim ?

"I want to see you, love of my life,

"3 months and 6 days

without holding you close.

"I should see you, feel you.

Why don't you come ?

"I came into your village.

I couldn't do more"

Not so fast.

"You pretended not to see me.

Was someone watching you ?

"I want to see you my love.

"Ever so much, S'lim.

"I wait for you in our hiding place,

Every day.

"Esmeralda."

Are you crying ?

No... dust in my eye.

What's it like...

making love ?

Is it bad ?

Is it like an orgasm ?

Is it strong ? Is it beautiful ?

What does it do for you ?

Shush ! You should be ashamed !

Why ?

I just want to know everything !

The Mexican women cry out loudly

when they do it,

but I never hear you !

Isn't Sami good ?

Where are you going ? Answer me !

Pour me some tea.

Sit down.

Don't make war on men,

don't put them down.

My grandfather,

and my father have made war

on the colonists and other tribes

to defend our tribe

and our family.

To defend our water supply too.

While the women

and children were in a safe place.

Many died.

The men travelled far

to make enough to

support the community.

It's never been easy.

They were fighters.

Brave, courageous fighters.

They risked their lives

for their families.

Then I and those of my age

travelled further,

because of drought,

to make a living.

Nobody made us do it.

So, why ? Because it's our tradition,

the cycle of our life.

Today,

because of the drought,

nothing grows,

animals have barely enough to eat,

there's no work.

And more war.

Trying to find work and money

is a war for us men.

You think men go out of their way

to make war ?

Do you ?

You just need to protect your family

and your home

Not make war.

We should just live in peace.

We women aren't afraid of peace.

Leave me...I'm tired.

If the strike continues,

I'll have to dismiss you.

All the parents are accusing you

of bad influence on their children.

Prove you're a man.

- Your wife...

I understand.

I have a degree, Mr Benghazi,

I can take on anything.

Accounting, stock control, sales.

You'll never find an employee

like me.

Look at your hands ?

You've never worked.

And your shoulders are like a woman's.

Sami.

How's things ?

OK...you ?

Thanks be to God.

Mr Benghazi.

I'll leave you.

No, stay, I...

It's OK...we're finished.

What are you doing

with Benghazi?

He's a crook.

We were just talking.

Sami, we're friends.

Maybe not as close

as we once were.

You used to be

my best friend.

I never would've said anything,

but I'll say it now.

There was a time

when I didn't talk to you

because you made me

look like an idiot.

Who'd forget your arrogance.

You were top of the class,

Mr Know-it-all...

'I know the answer'.

You put me down

in front of everybody.

I wanted to be a writer...

did you know that ?

I wanted to be like you,

and do better than you.

But you managed

to put me down so much

that my parents didn't think

I'd amount to anything.

They decided I should quit school.

Just like that.

One morning my father

said a few words

and took my satchel

off my back.

He said:
"You've finished school !"

And that was that.

Not another word.

I've never forgotten those words.

The next day he sold my satchel

and my books at the market.

I feel better now I've told you.

Is the strike over?

What's up ?

Nothing.

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