Color of Friendship, The (2000)

[bunniefuu]

(FUNK MUSIC PLAYING)

Do you see him yet?

-No.

-Didn't he call?

Yep. And he said

he'd be home for dinner.

There he is.

You'd better hurry.

-Where's my necklace?

-What necklace?

You know, the one with the lion's teeth?

Mom made me put it outside.

She said it stunk up the house.

Mom!

Hey, hey, hey. Slow down.

GIRL: Brandy, where's the music?

BRANDY: I got it!

(DRUMS PLAYING)

He's pulling in the driveway.

Here he comes!

-ALL: Hi, Daddy!

-Hey, darling. How are you?

Hey, guys. The traffic was

pretty bad on Georgia Avenue.

So, what's new?

How was your day?

Long. Three subcommittee meetings

and the White House luncheon.

Pass the lemonade, please.

What's that I hear?

They're drums, Daddy.

African tribal drums from Senegal.

No. I thought maybe

I heard someone knocking.

I guess not.

And you have something

on your face. Wipe it off.

Daddy!

"Daddy!"

(CHUCKLES)

Tell me she's not back on that

student exchange kick again.

I told you it wouldn't work.

Please, Daddy.

We're running out of time.

Piper, we've talked about this.

Yeah, I know, but the deadline's tomorrow.

Then it's over.

We'll forever lose our opportunity

to enrich our lives

and forge a kinship and bond

between our black African

brothers and sisters.

Don't look at me.

Those are her words.

And I think you made your point,

so give the Senegal drummers a break.

Give me your bowl.

Please?

Please?

Please, please, please, please?

(CHUCKLES) You're a mess.

Press conference speech?

It will be.

Once I get past,

"Good morning, and thank you for coming."

(DRUMS START PLAYING ON STEREO)

African drums?

Well, the girl's obsessed.

What can I tell you?

Why can't she be obsessed

with something less disruptive,

like chores or homework?

Sometimes we don't get

to choose our obsessions.

Sometimes they choose us.

She really wants it badly.

You only get the short version.

I'm the one home with her all day.

How long would

this exchange student be here?

Four months.

First half of the school year.

And where would they be coming from?

Anywhere on the continent of Africa

would be fine with Piper.

Maybe it would be good

to have an African student in the house.

Sort of shorten the cultural divide

between black Americans

and black Africans.

Am I hearing, "It's fine with me"?

As long as you understand

this kid is your responsibility.

I don't have time to babysit.

Thank you, Daddy.

Thank you so much!

I knew you'd come around.

Man, I wonder what she'll look like.

Or what country she'll be coming from.

How do you know they'll be a "she"?

So you're gonna tell him, right?

Tonight, you'll tell him I can go?

I can't tell your father anything, Mahree.

We'll discuss it and, as always,

he'll decide what's best.

(SCOFFS)

Now I think I'll start with a green salad.

Discussing, telling,

whatever you want to call it,

he listens to you.

If you say you don't mind,

then it's as good as done.

Perhaps. What would you like, Rian?

I don't want vegetables.

She asked you what you wanted,

not what you didn't want, domkop.

There he is!

Dad, over here!

-Hi, Dad.

-Hey, Rian.

He's smiling. That's a good sign.

Hello.

-Hello, Pieter.

-Hi. Hey, Mahree.

Hi, Dad.

-Good news?

-We caught him.

-Who?

-Steven Biko.

The black agitator?

Not anymore.

He's now sitting in jail in Durban.

Who's Steven Biko?

A black troublemaker.

He's always rousing

and stirring up things.

Just like you.

He violated the ban

by traveling outside his area.

Well done.

Now maybe our poor country

can get a little peace.

And what are we having?

I've worked up an appetite.

What's going on?

Going on? Nothing's going on.

Mahree wants to go to America

on some dumb student exchange program,

but she's afraid to ask you

because you might say no,

so she wants Mother to do it for her.

Student exchange program?

When did this come up?

About a week ago,

the school headmaster

sent the paperwork out.

To America?

Yes, Dad. Wouldn't that be exciting?

The United States.

Plus, extra credit will be given to those

who go and attend a foreign school.

What do you think of this?

Mom thinks it's great.

She didn't say it was great.

She said it sounded interesting.

You have one life to live. Don't push it.

Plus, the headmaster said traveling abroad

will make it easier

to get into a university.

Maybe even a full tuition and...

(SIGHS)

You think this is a good idea?

Well, she's never been

out of South Africa before,

and she is a little young.

Yeah. That's what I think.

(SIGHS)

However, it'll only be for a few months,

the cost is manageable,

and it's an opportunity

that may not come by again.

And if she stays with

a responsible family,

I have no problem in letting her go.

If I say yes, can I eat?

Because I'm starving.

(LAUGHS) Thank you!

Thank you, Daddy! Thank you.

Excuse me, boss.

Bloody Kaffir!

(SPEAKING FOREIGN LANGUAGE)

(IN ENGLISH) Let me help you. Come.

(SPEAKING FOREIGN LANGUAGE)

I hope I get to

go someplace exciting, Flora,

like New York or Los Angeles.

Either one of those would be great.

Do they not give you a choice?

Well, they try,

but it depends on

how many families they get

willing to have foreign students

come live with them.

They call them host families.

I think going to America

will be good for you.

Do you? Why?

I don't know, little things I have heard.

Like what?

They think differently over there.

Sometimes it is good to learn

how other people think.

I'm going to America to have fun, Flora,

not to learn anything.

BOY: No kidding! An African student

staying at your house?

-Yeah.

-Not just any old African student,

a South African student.

Like you even know

where South Africa is.

Sure I do. It's south

of North Africa. Duh.

(ALL LAUGHING)

So, can you help us?

-Help you how?

-Well, tell us about Africa.

-Why me?

-Because you're African.

Even I can answer that.

I'm Nigerian.

Nigeria is as far from South Africa

as Washington probably is from London.

Hey, I didn't know that.

See, you're helping us already.

All I can tell you is that

there are serious problems

in South Africa between

the blacks and the whites.

You know about apartheid?

A-part-tide?

Right. Just think of the word "apart."

Like keeping people

apart from each other.

The blacks and the whites.

The blacks aren't happy

because they're treated pretty badly.

I thought you needed my help.

Well, I hear Mom and Dad

talking about it now and then.

Do you know what village

your guest is going to be coming from?

No. No idea.

Well, there are nine tribes

in South Africa,

and they all speak different languages.

Did you hear I'm staying

with a congressman

and his family in Washington, D.C.?

Oh, a congressman.

That's a very important person, yes?

A very important person.

United States representative

from California,

Congressman Ronald V. Dee-Looms.

It's kind of a funny name, Dee-Looms.

"Dee-Looms"?

Yeah. D-E-L-L-U-M-S. Dee-Looms.

Dellums?

No. Dee-Looms.

What do you know

of him and his family?

He has a wife and three kids.

Two boys and a girl my age.

Did you send them a picture?

Are you kidding?

I hate all my pictures.

Besides, the application

didn't ask for one.

RIAN: Hey, look. Look!

Look what I just caught!

Isn't it pretty?

The bird book calls it a weaver bird.

Wanna know why?

Let me guess. Because it weaves?

No fair. You read the book.

-They weave their nest like...

-With twigs.

That's right.

The book didn't say what it eats.

-Give it a worm.

-I tried.

I also gave it grapes,

bread, and jungle oats.

It wouldn't eat none of them.

Isimbeyu.

What's that?

Seeds.

MAHREE: How do you know

so much about this bird?

There were a great many of them

in my village.

Did you have one?

Not in a cage. They were free.

As a little girl, I used to

watch them build their nests.

Giant baskets as tall as a man.

Inside of them,

there were many smaller nests

where they would raise their families.

-Like a village.

-Yes.

And there were many different colors.

Red, and some were black,

and others were yellow.

I would watch them for hours,

think at how they worked together,

helped each other.

Never did I see them fight.

I would wonder why people

could not be more like them.

Because people are not birds, Flora.

The things you say sometimes.

Seeds?

Yes.

I'll try it!

Did you remember to pack

my shampoo and extra toothbrush?

Yes.

And a warm coat?

You know, it's their winter

when it's our summer.

I didn't know that.

Well, your coat is packed,

and extra dresses.

(CHUCKLES)

RIAN: Mahree, look at the flag.

-Where did you get that?

-What?

The flag, donkey!

What are you doing with it?

I found it. What's wrong with it?

It's the flag of

the South African troublemakers.

-That's what's wrong with it.

-FLORA: Give it to me.

Father will thump you good

if he catches you with it.

RIAN: How was I supposed to know?

It was just lying in the street.

-What was lying in the street?

-Nothing.

Mahree, remember what I told you.

Don't go anywhere unescorted.

Don't talk to anyone I don't know.

Which is everybody.

(VOICE SHAKES) And just stay close to

the congressman and his family.

Mom, don't start crying. Not again.

I'll be fine. Really, I will.

Of course, you will.

Because within one week,

she'll be so homesick, she'll be

pleading with us to send for her.

I will not.

You will too.

One week, you'll be back

inside this house, in your bed,

and we'll hear no more talk

about you going to America.

-Remember these words.

-Well, you're wrong.

Say goodbye to your brother.

-Bye.

-Bye.

Goodbye.

Take care.

-Take care.

-I will.

I'll write. Look out for my letters.

Mmm-hmm.

-Have fun in America now.

-I will.

And pay attention.

(CAR ENGINE STARTS)

(SOMBER MUSIC PLAYS)

REPORTER: South Africans say

they treat all people humanely.

But my point is,

black South African babies

die at a rate 13 times higher

than white babies.

-(SIRENS APPROACHING)

-Lack of jobs, inadequate housing,

chronic food shortages

are everyday occurrences...

Got a deadline.

-Good speech, Congressman.

-Yeah. As always.

Thank you.

How come more people didn't show up?

Don't they know this stuff

is really important?

Not important enough.

Well, it was a good speech, anyway.

And I can always say,

I had to shout to be heard.

We've gotta go.

Her plane lands soon.

What's her name... Maria Box?

Mahree Bok, Dad!

Right. Mahree.

We'll stop by the office

on our way back from the airport,

so you can meet her.

All right. Drive safe.

Mahree!

Mahree.

(CAR ENGINE STARTS)

WOMAN: (ON PA)

Ladies and gentlemen, flight number 745,

direct service from Johannesburg

has now arrived at Gate 17-A.

There they are!

You know, it sure would be easier

if we knew what she looked like.

I know, honey.

There she is! There she is.

Mahree! Over here, honey!

-Give her the flowers.

-Okay.

Guess not.

Okay.

Maybe she missed the flight.

Come on.

Excuse me. We were expecting

a passenger on this flight.

-And their name?

-Mahree Bok.

I'm Mahree Bok.

Oh, no.

That can't be her.

Well, how many Mahree Boks

could there be on one airplane?

But she's white.

ROSCOE: Uh-huh.

It looks that way. Come on.

Hi, Mahree.

Hello.

PIPER: Mahree Bok? The exchange student?

Yes.

The exchange student

from Dundee, South Africa?

Yes. I was supposed to be met by

the Congressman Dee-Looms and his family.

Dellums. I'm Roscoe,

and this is my daughter, Piper.

Where's the congressman?

At work.

At the US Capitol?

Yes. You'll meet him soon.

We'll stop by on our way to the house.

Good.

I have two bags.

I'll point them out to you.

Come on.

MAN: Roscoe, how are you?

I'm fine, Ted. How're you doing, Jason?

Ron's been telling us about

the new addition to your family.

Yeah. We're all pretty excited about that.

-Could you excuse us for a moment?

-Sure.

-Good to see you.

-Thank you. Yeah.

-Is she here?

-Yes, she is...

Well, send her in.

She doesn't have to wait in the hall.

Wait a minute, honey.

There's something you need to know.

MAN: Piper, is that you,

sprouting up like a weed?

Please tell me that's not her.

I thought I was going to

meet the congressman.

Yes. This is my husband, Ron.

Congressman Ron Dellums.

And, sweetheart,

this is our new house guest,

Mahree Bok.

(LAUGHS) You're kidding.

This is a joke, right?

Right?

You're the family?

Yes.

And you're the congressman?

Welcome to America.

I never knew silence could be so loud.

How could this happen?

Assumptions, well,

they'll get you every time.

We assumed "African" meant black African.

She assumed "congressman"

meant white politician.

We both assumed wrong.

Did you see how she acted

when she found out who we were?

I don't think who we are is the problem.

Look, what she is and what we are

has nothing to do with it.

Once we get her home

and we get a chance to know her,

she gets a chance to know us,

it'll work out fine. You just watch.

(DRUMS PLAY ON STEREO)

-How much longer?

-They should be on their way.

I hope the music is right.

It's Zulu!

This is great.

I need another Zulu kazoo.

That's not a Zulu kazoo.

-Zulu kazoo to you too.

-(CHUCKLES)

Here's their car! Get ready!

Where are we? Why am I here?

This is where we live.

You live here?

Help me with her bags.

(DRUMS CONTINUE PLAYING)

Welcome! Hudunga!

Where is she?

Everyone, I'd like for you

to meet Mahree.

That's Billy, Erik...

Come on. Where is she, really?

That's her.

I thought we ordered a real African.

Come on out, sweetheart.

We didn't mean to startle you.

ERIK: We were just,

you know, welcoming you.

BRANDY:

Yeah, we didn't mean to scare you.

(DOOR CLICKS)

Poor thing has to be starved.

I'm just glad she's holed up

in Piper's room instead of ours.

How long do you think

she can last in there?

I read you can live weeks without food,

but days without water.

Unless you're a camel. (LAUGHS)

Why don't you two just grow up?

That's not a bad idea.

She's the one who's treating us

like we're diseased or something.

Mahree's just upset.

That makes two of us.

Well, I think a little sensitivity and

maturity is what we need right now.

A white South African?

(BOTH CHUCKLING)

Yes. I'd like to place a collect call

to the Bok family

in Dundee, South Africa.

It's an emergency.

Hello?

-What's an international operator?

-Oh, it's your sister!

Hello? Yes. We'll accept the charges.

-Mahree?

-Is that her calling already?

Yes.

Hi, Mom.

-Hello, darling. How are you?

-Don't tell me

she's homesick already

and wants to leave.

How long did I give her?

A week. You said she'd be crying

to come home within a week.

PIETER: And it's only been two days.

Stop teasing her. You don't know

that's why she's calling.

Let me talk to her.

Is that my lonely little flower?

Hi, Dad.

Listen, there are only

two flights out a week.

Do you think you can

hang on another couple of days?

Mahree?

Who said anything

about coming home?

I just called to tell you guys

I'm having the time of my life.

Really?

Yes. It's been great.

And the family is wonderful.

I've gotta go.

Somebody needs to use the phone.

I'll write. Love you. Bye.

(SIGHS)

-What's wrong?

-Nothing.

She says she's having

the time of her life.

You've still got five more days, Father.

Piper's staying in the guest room

for the night.

And then?

Then we'll see

what happens in the morning.

-See what?

-See if Mahree comes around.

Roscoe, this is

a white South African girl.

She's been dropped into a house of blacks.

What's she gonna come around to?

What if I can persuade her to stay?

Sweetheart, listen to me.

I have been fighting bigotry

my whole life,

both here and overseas.

It goes against everything I'm about

to have a r*cist, white South African

living in my house.

She's just a child, Ron.

Yes, she's a child

who obviously doesn't want to stay here.

Roscoe, the girl locked herself

in a room.

-Ha! Beat that, baby!

-Be quiet.

Hey, Billy. Any sign of her?

Nope. I thought I heard

the bathroom sink running this morning,

but it could have been my imagination.

(SIGHS) Well, I picked her up

something to eat on the way home.

You want to give it a try?

Piper?

If she won't come out,

we ought to let her starve.

Mahree, it's me, Piper.

Mom bought you something to eat.

Looks like some fries

and a chocolate shake.

I've locked myself out of my room

enough times to learn how to get back in.

You do drink chocolate, don't you?

Or maybe you only like vanilla.

(SCOFFS)

Mahree, I've placed a phone call

to the exchange program coordinator.

Hopefully, they can find

another host family for you,

but if not,

they will be sending you home. Okay?

Are all South Africans weird?

Or is it just you?

PIETER: One week, you'll be back

inside this house, in your bed,

and we'll hear no more talk

about you going to America.

(TELEPHONE RINGING)

Hello?

Hi, sweetheart. It's me.

I'm still in the middle

of all this paperwork,

but I should make it for dinner.

You need anything?

No. I'm okay, sweetheart.

Is she still there?

Yes, Ron, she's still here,

but she will be leaving soon.

All right. I'll see you in a little while.

All righty, bye-bye.

Piper, are you feeling okay?

I've always wondered

what it'd be like to have a sister.

Oh, honey, I am so sorry

the way this thing worked out.

Yeah. Me too.

Piper!

What's her problem?

We went through a lot of trouble

to make things easy for her.

Her problem is, she's human,

just like the rest of us.

Well, she's not like us.

She's not like me.

No wonder Dad can't stand South Africans.

You have never heard

your father say that!

It is the South African

system of government

that he has a problem with,

not the people affected by it.

What's the difference?

The difference is,

whites as well as blacks can be victims.

Remember, she's just 14.

So? I'm only 13, and I have

better sense than to act like that.

ROSCOE: You do? Remember

your reaction at the airport?

Well, I got over it.

Well, given time, maybe she would too.

She's the one who wants to leave.

No one's throwing her out.

Look, it's not the end of the world.

We can try this again next year.

We've already gotten over

the biggest hurdle, right?

Getting your father to go along with it.

Well, I don't think I want to do it again.

Well, we'll see.

(MAHREE CLEARS THROAT)

Mahree, is something wrong?

I'd like to stay.

Of course you would, honey,

and I can imagine you being disappointed.

No, no...

I'd like to stay here.

With you.

If that's okay.

Well, of course it's okay.

(KNOCKING AT DOOR)

It's open.

Well, what do you know? It is.

I'm sorry.

Yeah? Well, you should be.

So you're staying?

Yes. But only if you want me to.

Well, I always...

We always wanted you to.

I saw the gift.

Well, you didn't open it.

Oh! I almost forgot.

All I knew about you was that

you were around my age.

I hope you like it.

Okay, let's open it together.

(BOTH CHUCKLE)

Okay, one, two, three.

Does this mean we think alike?

Well, I guess, but it also means

neither of us have much money.

So, I see you like music.

I love music.

And you have a great collection.

Rian would give anything to see this.

Rian?

My kid brother.

He's crazy about this group.

KC and the Sunshine Band?

Well, they're okay.

-He would flip to see this.

-See what?

That most of them are Bantu.

Where I come from,

everyone thinks they're white.

Bantu?

Well, since you're staying,

I'm gonna help you move.

Move?

Yeah. Down the hallway to the guest room.

The one you're supposed to be in.

Don't take it personally.

I just want my room back.

Here. Let me get that.

We are so disappointed

that things didn't work out.

And I hope you don't let this experience

sour you on our country.

Dad.

What?

Where are you going

with Mahree's suitcases?

The car.

No. She's staying.

She's just moving to the guest room.

Uh-huh...

(DOOR OPENS)

-She's staying.

-Who, Mahree?

Yep. I wonder why she changed her mind.

Maybe her family doesn't want her back.

Maybe they've been

waiting years to get rid of her.

-Now they've got their chance.

-That's stupid.

If we could send Piper

to the other side of the world,

wouldn't we do it?

In a minute.

Roscoe, tell me

she's just here for the night.

You want me to lie to you?

-What happened?

-I don't know, Ron.

She just said she wanted to stay.

-Wait. When I left...

-What was I supposed to say, Ron?

"No, I'm sorry, but we don't allow

white South Africans in our house?"

-Would that have been so terrible?

-Yes!

No. I think terrible is

how she's treated us.

Would you keep your voice down?

She might hear you.

It's about time somebody listened to me.

-What's that?

-It's her application.

I had the exchange office send it over.

Maybe it'll give us a clue

to help us understand her better.

You want a clue?

Nationality, South African. Race, white.

-End of mystery.

-(SCOFFS)

Oh...

She's got one brother, about Erik's age.

Her mother's a housewife,

and her father's a policeman.

You're kidding.

(SCOFFS)

-Roscoe...

-Oh, come on, Ron!

Roscoe, her father's a South African cop.

That's like being a Jew and

inviting the Gestapo over for laughs.

You're overreacting.

And I think I know why.

I think you're a little scared.

Of what?

Of maybe getting a little close to her.

Of maybe finding out that apartheid

is a little more complicated

than we like to think.

Apartheid is complicated.

There is nothing complicated

about racism, Roscoe.

It's wrong.

You're right. It is wrong.

But if we have an opportunity

to correct it, shouldn't we?

Don't we have that

obligation to our children?

Our children aren't r*cist.

Yes, but that's just

because we made an effort

to teach them not to be.

Ron, what kind of message

would we be giving them

if we sent this little girl away

after she's asked to stay?

Is that what you

want to teach them?

PIPER: Teach us what?

ROSCOE: What is it, Piper?

Mahree needs some towels.

How did we end up talking about me?

-Hey. Good morning.

-Good morning, honey.

Save me some banana.

Banana? What banana?

-Good morning.

-Good morning, sweetheart.

I need new shoes for school.

That's it? Just shoes?

And maybe some pants,

skirts, and blouses.

Because I was ready

to ask you for ID,

to find out who was

masquerading as my daughter.

Maybe we'll go to the mall today.

Yes!

Good morning.

Good morning.

Please, sit.

PIPER: We're going to the mall today.

You want to come?

Sure.

You must be hungry.

Yes. Do you have any orange juice?

Pass her the orange juice.

Thank you.

I would also like some rusks,

breakfast sausage,

scrambled eggs, and maybe

some brinjal, if you have any.

We'll be at the playground.

Tell me when you're ready to leave.

If you don't have sausage,

bacon will be fine.

Is something wrong?

Nothing we can't fix.

Do you have a maid at home, Mahree?

A maid?

A servant. House girl?

We have Flora.

Oh, okay.

For the next few months, Mahree,

you will be considered part of the family.

That's the only way I know

how to make this work.

I will treat you no different

than my own children.

That includes eating

what and when the family eats.

So, even if I knew

what rusks and brinjal were,

this morning, we're having

good old-fashioned Sugar Hoops.

MAN: Morning.

WOMAN: Good morning, Piper.

-Good morning.

-Morning.

Is everyone in this neighborhood

in the government?

No. Dr. Sherman, he's a pediatrician.

Mr. and Mrs. Crawford,

they're college professors.

And Billy's dad...

Well, you know Billy,

the little goofball with the kazoo.

-Works at the Pentagon.

-WOMAN: Hi!

-How you doing?

-I'm fine.

(UPBEAT MUSIC PLAYING)

Is this still Washington?

Uh-huh.

It looks kind of like our townships.

I imagine it does.

Sure a lot different from where you live.

Oh, America isn't perfect, Mahree.

We still have our problems

to work out, as well.

(KNOCKING)

(GASPS)

That's okay, honey.

He just wants to wash the windshield.

Is that his job, window-washer?

Well, it is today.

And does his pass say

"window-washer"?

What pass?

She means identity or movement pass.

Blacks in South Africa

have to carry ID cards

that state their occupation

and where they're allowed

to travel to work.

Allowed to travel?

Yeah. To go from one city to another.

-No way.

-Mmm-hmm.

What's it for?

To help the police keep track of them.

Keep track of who?

-The blacks.

-Why?

Why? It's for their own good.

And do they like having to

carry around these passes?

Of course. Why wouldn't they?

It keeps them safe and out of trouble.

-Thank you.

-MAN: Thank you.

MAHREE: Are all shopping malls

in America like this?

Some are larger, some smaller,

but mostly the same.

Lots of stores and lots of walking.

But like this?

People just shopping together?

Going into stores? Blacks and whites?

That's allowed?

It's against the law for

a store owner to stop somebody

from coming into their store

just because of their race.

I mean, not that they'd want to.

They're in business to make money.

And if you've got money,

they want your business.

That is right.

Let's go upstairs.

(FUNK MUSIC PLAYING)

No. (CHUCKLES)

(ALL LAUGHING)

(PEOPLE SINGING) Well, here's a gift

To show our love

And read this card

We're so proud of

Today we're celebrating you

I think you looked jazzed

in those platform shoes.

My mother would scream

if she saw me in those things.

I think after ten minutes,

your feet would scream first.

(GIGGLING)

(GRUNTS)

Bloody Kaffir!

Don't hit him.

Sir, sir, really, I'm sorry. Really.

Hey, it's not your fault.

-Can I get you something?

-Yeah.

One of these chocolate sundaes.

Pretty good.

Yeah. All right.

All right.

(CHUCKLES)

(MEN SINGING) Well, here's a gift

To show our love

And read this card

We're so proud of

Today we're celebrating you

What? What?

Happy birthday

To you

I didn't know it was your birthday.

Congratulations!

It's not.

Then why did they...

-Piper!

-(LAUGHING)

May I? Loco-nut's my favorite.

-This is great.

-Oh, my God.

We've got 15 nations lined up so far

for the Pan-African festival.

We're waiting to hear from

Morocco, Egypt, and Tanzania.

How are we coming with the permits?

-Fire, police, sanitation, all in.

-All right.

(INTERCOM BUZZES)

WOMAN: You've got a call, Mr. Dellums.

-Take a message, please.

-It's the South African embassy.

Put it through.

Hello?

WOMAN: Ron Dellums?

This is he. Who is this?

Genevieve Hofmeyer of

the South African embassy.

What can I do for you, Miss Hofmeyer?

Mrs. And I'm calling to confirm

that you're hosting

a South African student

by the name of Mahree Bok?

My family is, yes.

Why? Is that against

one of your laws, Mrs. Hofmeyer?

-No, Mr. Dellums...

-Congressman.

Congressman.

We just like to keep track

of our nationals.

Especially the children.

And I thought

that's what parents were for.

Thank you for your time, Congressman.

While I have you on the phone,

maybe you can give me some information

about a Steven Biko

you're hosting in one of your jails.

I'll forward your request

to the ambassador, Congressman.

Good afternoon.

Can you believe that?

They actually had the nerve

to call to confirm

that she was staying with us.

Wonder how they found out.

Who knows?

She probably had to apply for

an exit visa to leave her country.

Maybe they put a tail

on all their citizens,

like the Russian KGB.

You think so?

I'm joking, Ron.

They're capable of it, you know.

My, aren't we worked up?

And all this over a little girl

that you didn't even want in your house.

It's the principle of the thing.

I don't like being told who can

or cannot stay in my own home.

(FUNKY MUSIC PLAYING)

I like them, but are they

first-day-of-school shoes?

Or... What do you think?

They're nice.

I know they're nice,

but are they first-day-of-school nice,

or second-day, they're okay,

don't-mind-if-they-get-scuffed-

up-that-way shoes?

(CHUCKLES)

I don't know. I don't have

these kinds of problems back home.

You don't wear shoes in Dundee?

Well, sure we do, but they're all alike.

All students wear uniforms.

No way! Like Catholic schools?

Like all the schools.

That's just the way it is.

All the way up to standard ten

when you matric.

Okay, are we talking English here,

or South Africanese?

Standard ten is your 12th grade.

And to matriculate means to graduate.

Okay.

So, I don't have to wear a uniform?

Well, not unless my school

changed the dress code over the summer.

Your school? I'm going to your school?

Yeah. Where did you think you were going?

Not to a Bantu school.

What?

What?

Bantu. You called the school "Bantu."

Does that mean "n*gg*r"?

No, no. In Afrikaans,

"Bantu" means "n*gro" or "black."

"Kaffir" means "n*gg*r."

Which I'd never say.

You'd be Bantu in my country.

Maybe even colored. Never Kaffir.

At least not to me.

Kaffir, Bantu, colored...

They all mean "black people"?

Well, not colored, technically.

How many different words

do they have for whites?

Just... White.

Okay.

And they call traffic lights "robots."

And the trunk of a car a "boot."

Pretty weird, huh?

Mmm-hmm.

Plus, they've got all these different

classifications for people.

You know, like whites,

or Asians, coloreds...

We'd be Bantu.

Or did she say I was a Kaffir?

Mahree called you a Kaffir?

She called you a Kaffir?

Maybe I'm getting it mixed up.

That's it! The embassy can have her back.

-No. Wait! I think I got it wrong.

-Ron!

She said Bantu, Daddy, not Kaffir.

Kaffir's the bad one.

Bantu just means "black."

I know what they mean.

Kaffir's what she said

she'd never call me.

Are you sure?

Yeah, I'm sure. I messed up.

Sorry.

It's okay. Really.

Good night.

Good night.

(SIGHS)

(MAHREE GASPS)

I'm sorry.

No, no. It's okay, you can read.

I thought I heard something out here

and just came to check.

Go on. Sit.

What are you reading?

Oh, Roots. Good book.

Important book here in the US.

It helped Americans,

white Americans see the horror of sl*very.

I don't suppose you were taught anything

in South Africa about American sl*very?

No.

Figures.

Well, you picked a great book.

Probably the best book in the house.

And if you don't have

a chance to finish it,

you feel free to take it home with you.

Thank you.

Don't mention it.

Well, I've got an early day.

Good night.

Good night.

Mr. Dellums...

(SIGHS)

I'm sorry.

For what?

For making you think

I called Piper a Kaffir.

Well, I didn't think...

You heard me?

But it's okay.

Maybe I was supposed to hear it.

I don't think you're a bad person, Mahree.

I just think you've been taught

some bad things.

I'm going to bed.

And so should you.

School starts tomorrow.

And falling asleep in class

on the first day of school

is frowned on here in America.

I know. I've done it.

(CHUCKLES)

-Good night.

-Good night.

(SCHOOL BELL RINGS)

So, what do you see

when you get up in the morning

and look out your bedroom window?

Uh... I see grass, some trees.

No, I mean what kind of

animals do you see?

Giraffes? Lions? Tigers? What?

I see cows and sheep.

Some dogs and cats. Lots of birds.

Sheep? Dogs?

I thought you lived in Africa.

I do. But you've probably seen as many

lions and elephants as I have.

Yeah, but only at the circus.

Want to know where I saw

my first and last lion?

-Where?

-The Johannesburg zoo.

ALL: You're kidding!

I'm not. We have game reserves,

sort of like big parks

where you can go and see them,

but I've never been to one.

Well, what's the fun

in growing up in Africa

if you can't get chased by a rhino?

Well, here's where you guys get off.

Children, to the elementary school.

Junior high for the adults.

Run along now.

You don't want to be late.

Yes, yes.

(BOTH CHUCKLING)

(SCHOOL BELL RINGS)

MAHREE: Excuse me?

I'm the new exchange student.

That's your line.

Exchange students and transfers.

Welcome to Wilson.

Well, I guess I'll see you at lunch.

Bye.

You're supposed to say you're sorry.

She is sorry.

-I didn't hear it.

-Then take off the helmet.

Oops, my mistake.

You're not wearing one.

That's your head.

Don't let those dumb

football players scare you.

They're all talk. Just like my brothers.

See you later.

Hey. Line's moving.

So, how was school?

Every year you ask the same thing.

Every year the answer's the same.

The first day of school's always

-boring!

-Boring!

With a capital "B."

Well, I got a couple of decent classes.

How was your day, Mahree?

She has homework already.

-Too bad.

-What is it?

A book report.

What's the book?

It's called Cry, the Beloved Country,

by Alan Paton.

I think we have that book.

It's about South Africa, right?

I don't know.

I'm almost sure it is.

Well, if we do have it,

it will save you a trip to the library.

Though you probably already read it.

Maybe.

This book was required reading

at my high school.

Ooh, Paton.

He was pretty famous over here.

-Thank you.

-You're welcome.

PIPER: Hey.

Hi.

Just reading.

The one for the book report?

Yeah. I hadn't read it.

Oh...

To be honest,

I've never even heard of it before.

You're kidding?

A book about your own country,

written by one of your

most famous authors?

Well, he might be famous here,

but not in South Africa.

It's probably banned.

-Banned?

-Yeah.

There's certain books, movies, people,

even TV shows that

we're not allowed to see.

Who, the kids?

No. Everyone.

Well, who's stopping you?

The government.

Why?

To protect us.

From what?

I don't know. That's just the way it is.

Weird.

Hey, Freaky Friday is playing

at the movies this weekend.

You wanna go?

Movies?

Oh! Yeah. I keep forgetting.

See, we call movies "bioscopes"

and "cinemas" in South Africa.

"Bioscopes"? Okay,

that's really, really weird.

Well, sure. I'd love to come.

Great.

I'm glad you stayed.

I'm glad I stayed too.

(DISCO MUSIC PLAYING)

(THUNDER RUMBLING)

Go, Mom.

Maybe I can teach you.

Tennis? I don't know...

Oh, come on. It'll be fun.

Well, as long as I don't have to

wear those little dolly skirts.

If I have to wear one,

you have to wear one.

Hey, I wonder who that is?

Hi.

What's going on?

Mahree, Piper, these are the Hofmeyers.

They're from the South African embassy.

They'd like to speak with Mahree.

In private. If that's okay.

-How did they treat you?

-Who?

The family, child. The Dellums.

Fine. They're treating me fine.

What's going on?

You're leaving.

What?

MR. HOFMAYER: Gather your things.

But I don't want to go.

You are a minor, young lady.

And as such, you have no authority

to make that decision.

Do my parents know about this?

We will notify them

when we get to the embassy.

Pack your things.

You won't be coming back.

What's going on?

I've got to go.

Please understand that what we're doing

is for the safety of the child.

What safety?

We have no more control

over events in our country

than you have over events in yours.

Just what are you talking about?

We appreciate your cooperation.

(SOBBING)

Mom!

No. It's all right, Piper.

It's okay, honey.

I'm calling Dad.

He's been in emergency meetings

all morning.

How can they just take her like that?

(CHANTING) Stop apartheid now!

Stop apartheid now!

Stop apartheid now!

Stop apartheid now!

You k*lled Biko!

What's going on?

-What's happening?

-It's all right. Don't look at them.

Stop apartheid now!

Why are they doing this?

(SHUSHES)

Come with me.

Amanda, this is Mahree Bok.

Her parents must be called

and arrangements made

to send her home immediately.

Mahree, this is Amanda, my secretary.

She'll look after you.

Is there anything I can get you, Mahree?

No. But you could tell me what's going on.

The fool has just up and k*lled himself.

-Who?

-Biko, the t*rror1st.

He's k*lled himself, and

the Americans have gone daft over it.

They've been out there all day.

Why would he k*ll himself?

Who knows how they think?

Maybe he fashioned himself a martyr?

The fact is, he's dead,

and the world is carrying on

as though we're responsible.

That's why we thought

we'd best get you out of that house.

There's no telling how they would react.

Who's "they"?

Those people you were staying with.

What people? You mean the Dellums?

Well, if not them, then maybe

some of their neighbors.

Is that why you made me leave?

You and about a half dozen

other minors here on student visas.

I should think you'd be glad

to get away from that.

Get away from what?

(SIGHS) It's okay.

You'll understand when you get older.

I understand now. This is stupid.

Some guy kills himself

halfway around the world

and you think I'm in danger?

You'll understand when you get older.

You'll be staying here

until we can contact your folks

and get you on a plane home.

It's official.

Amnesty International just confirmed

that Biko didn't k*ll himself.

He died from injuries from

being beaten by the police.

Is it documented?

By South African news organizations.

Let's see their government

try to wiggle their way out of this one.

Wire services are reporting demonstrations

at South African embassies

all over the world.

What about the US press?

They still playing "see no evil"?

Not anymore.

REPORTER: Steven Biko was a popular

and charismatic activist

for human rights for the disenfranchised

black majority in South Africa.

His suspicious death has

sparked mass demonstrations

on college campuses

in New York, California, Georgia,

New Jersey, and here,

at the nation's capitol.

It took this

to finally get their attention.

And now that we have it,

we need to run with it.

Your daughter's on the line.

Can you tell her I'll call her back?

She's been calling all day.

She sounds upset.

Line four.

Hey, sweets,

it's a little crazy here right now.

Can we talk when I get home?

She's gone, Daddy. They took her.

What... Hold on.

They came and just took her away.

Who took who away?

The people from the embassy.

They made Mahree leave with them.

Okay. Sweetheart, calm down.

Yeah. Let me talk with your mother.

What's up?

Nothing.

I just dropped off some stuff

for the Pan-African festival.

So, where's your friend,

the South African?

Lately, you two have been

like joined at the hip, huh?

She's gone.

What's so funny?

Just wondering what took her so long.

So long to do what?

Leave. My brother and I had a bet

on how long she would stay over here.

Neither of us figured

she would last this long.

Well, you and your brother are wrong.

Mahree didn't leave on her own.

-She didn't?

-No. She didn't.

You sure?

Look, Daniel, I don't feel like

talking right now, okay?

Fine.

South Africa may have a lot of problems,

but Mahree was my friend.

Your friend, huh?

Yeah, my friend.

You guys talked a lot, right?

A lot.

In all your talking,

did she ever get around

to inviting you to come stay with her?

It never came up.

That seem natural to you?

Two new friends

from different parts of the world?

She came to stay with you.

It just makes sense that

she'd ask you to come stay with her.

Just because it never came up

doesn't mean she wouldn't have asked.

You know who Steven Biko is?

The black South African...

I know who he is.

Then I guess you know he's dead.

k*lled. By their police.

k*lled for trying to

make things better for blacks.

I wonder what your friend

thinks about that?

REPORTER:

Alive, Steve Biko was an important figure

to a relatively small number

of politically active

black and white South Africans.

Dead, he is an international hero.

And his funeral attracted enormous crowds.

It's the circumstances

of his death and captivity

that keep the name of Biko

in the international headlines.

Among the first arrivals at his funeral

were members

of the Biko family themselves.

His wife has consistently denied

that her husband was ever

on a hunger strike

or could possibly have k*lled himself.

During the morning, a crowd

gathered outside the courthouse

giving the black power salute,

shouting, "What have they done?"

And, "Power is ours."

In world news...

Mahree, I found your folder.

I'm about to call your folks.

You want to talk to them?

Sure.

Amanda, could you bring

my schedule book?

Yeah. Here, you call them.

Tell them you'll be on

the 6:00 flight in the morning.

Dial zero. Ask for the overseas operator.

She'll connect you.

Hello?

(DIAL TONE)

AMANDA: Tell them you'll be on

the 6:00 flight in the morning.

Dial zero. Ask for the overseas operator.

She'll connect you.

WOMAN: Operator.

Overseas operator, please.

I'll connect you.

WOMAN 2: Overseas operator.

South Africa.

Number?

Oh, three, one...

Yes.

I'll be back.

Mr. Dellums?

Don't worry.

It's gonna be okay.

(SIGHS)

(SAD SOUL MUSIC PLAYS ON STEREO)

(DOOR OPENS)

Ta-da. Just like a bad dime,

I'm not that easy to get rid of.

Or is that a penny?

Gosh! What's with the lights

and the music?

Did I miss a funeral?

Come on, we need some noise.

Let's boogie! I'm back!

What's the matter?

What happened?

Why'd they change their mind?

You don't know?

Your dad came to the embassy.

My dad?

Unbelievable. How'd you do it?

The ambassador is a practical man.

I simply reminded him that with Biko

and the current situation in his country,

South Africa has a serious image problem.

Did he really want to make it worse

by authorizing the kidnapping

of a 13-year-old girl

from her American hosts?

How do you say

"public relations nightmare" in Afrikaans?

Don't know, but he understood

the English version well enough.

(LAUGHING)

That embassy felt like a prison.

And outside, it was like a w*r zone.

Police, demonstrators,

phones ringing off the hook.

I was so glad to get out of there.

Can I come visit you?

Visit me?

What are you talking about? I'm here.

No. No, I mean when you go back home.

You mean to South Africa?

Well, that's where you live, isn't it?

Can I come stay with you for a few weeks?

Or months? You know, student exchange?

Yeah, sure.

(SIGHING)

I still don't know what

all that craziness was about.

-Steven Biko.

-Yeah, Biko. Who cares?

Just some crazy t*rror1st

who k*lled himself.

Anyone who knows

right from wrong would care.

And Biko didn't k*ll himself.

The police k*lled him.

Who told you that?

The whole world knows it.

Just turn on the news.

The South African police beat him

and tried to hide it when he died. Pigs!

The police are not pigs!

My father is not a pig!

Yeah? Then why don't you

ask him how Biko died?

I don't have to ask him.

This Biko was a common criminal.

You Americans would call him a thug.

Well, whatever you want to call him,

he was a man fighting for justice.

Just like my father.

And, you know, if I was Biko's daughter...

You don't know what you're talking about.

You don't know what it's like

being outnumbered by...

By what? Black people?

Kaffirs?

Do you have

any black friends at home, Mahree?

Yes! Yes, as a matter of fact, I do.

I have Flora.

Flora is my friend, my best friend.

Flora is your maid!

If you stopped paying her,

do you think she'd stick around?

Or maybe you don't even pay her.

Maybe she's your sl*ve.

You've got it all wrong.

And don't say that about Flora.

Who has it all wrong,

me and the rest of the world, Mahree?

Or you and your r*cist

South African people?

Whether you want to admit it or not,

you know I'm right.

Why else do you think your own government

would hide books and movies

and stupid TV shows from its own people?

What are they so afraid of?

And why were they

so afraid of you staying here?

If you didn't want me here,

all you had to do was say so.

(INDISTINCT CHATTER ON TV)

(DOOR CLOSES)

Girls.

(MAHREE SOBBING)

I didn't go down to that embassy

to bring you back

for you two to start fighting.

What happened?

Piper wouldn't be able

to visit me in South Africa.

And I would give anything

to change that, but I can't.

I can't.

You can't help

what your government does, Mahree.

It's not my government

that wouldn't allow it.

You talking about

your friends and neighbors?

Well, their attitude about blacks

is still the fault of your government.

Everyone was raised the same,

as were their parents before them.

It's a nasty cycle.

It has to be stopped.

Here in America we had to

learn the exact same lesson.

And now it's South Africa's time.

Starting, maybe, with you.

I told Piper that when I was

in that embassy I felt like a prisoner.

Locked up and ignored.

No one was listening to me.

It's never a good feeling to

have no control over your life.

No.

Have you ever heard

of a weaver bird, Mr. Dellums?

I was never very fond of zoology.

(CHUCKLES)

Well, it's a small,

very pretty bird in my country.

I was told a story about

this bird once, by a friend.

A very good friend.

And she told me

how it lives in this huge nest,

filled with all these different families.

And they're all different colors.

Some are black, some are red,

some are yellow,

and they all help each other,

and they never fight.

-Hi, Mr. and Mrs. Dellums.

-Hi, darling.

-One for you.

-Thank you.

One for you.

And one for you.

Thank you.

They're freedom flags

for black South Africans.

They're banned back home.

Have mine.

Thank you.

Well, come on,

or we're going to be late.

Franklin Delano Roosevelt,

one of America's greatest presidents,

said more than 30 years ago

that he looked forward to a world

founded on four essential human freedoms,

the freedom of speech,

the freedom to worship God

in your own way,

the freedom from want and need,

and finally,

to be free from fear.

These freedoms should be universal,

but there are places in the world

where they are just dreams

for the millions of those

who cry for them.

I have a friend,

a new friend,

from South Africa.

And this friend recently

told me a story

about a unique bird

found in her country.

And what is remarkable about

this bird is not that it nests,

for all birds nest.

But that this particular bird

nests in a community of families

all unrelated to each other

and all of different colors.

This community of different

colored, unrelated birds

live together with one common goal,

to care for each other.

We are a world of people,

not races, not ethnic groups,

not census descriptions

on pieces of paper,

but living, breathing human beings.

And if there's one thing that

human beings have in common,

it's the desperate need to be free.

-We miss you already, honey.

-I'll miss you too.

You're a tremendous little girl.

Best to you.

Thank you.

ROSCOE: All right.

You're gonna miss your plane.

Okay, go on.

Bye.

-Bye.

-Bye.

-Bye!

-Bye.

-You okay?

-Yeah.

All righty.

All right, darling, may I ask you...

(WEAVER BIRD CHIRPING)

(INSTRUMENTAL MUSIC PLAYING)