• Monkeys make mockery of monk's video

    By Ed Flanagan, NBC News

    BEIJING – They say working with animals on screen can be maddeningly unpredictable, even with Zen-like patience. 

    So there could be no better person to test that theory than a Buddhist monk, right? 

    Yen Shen, a monk who serves as a director of the Cangzhou Buddhist Association in China’s Hebei province was at Mount Emei – a popular tourist site and home to a well-known Buddhist temple – in western Sichuan shooting a little video about the beauty of the region.

    With lush forest and fog draped valleys behind him, Yen was speaking poetically about the beauty of the region and the need to take time to connect with nature. “As the years pass, let us bless our friends, let us bless everything,” he waxes on poetically in the video, “when the year’s pass let us bless spring and the autumn.”

    That’s when the monkey business starts. (Click to watch the video above). 

    Just 10 seconds into his monologue, what looks like a Tibetan macaque next to him starts grabbing Yen’s robes and playing with them. Showing incredible TV professional poise though, Yen continues talking about Buddhist spirituality without skipping a beat.

    Then 1:30 into the video, two macaques run up and jump onto Yen, turning him into a human jungle gym. Yen appears momentarily frozen in panic, but recovers and then continues talking; ignoring the growing giggles and chatter of onlookers.

    A third monkey joins in on the fun at 1:58, before someone hands one of the macaques what appears to be a cookie and pulls Yen out of the way.

    Further attempts to continue the video are derailed as one monkey who will not be denied his 15 minutes of fame, perches itself next to Yen and starts clutching his robe, only letting go long enough to devour more biscuits handed to him just off screen by a helper.

    As biscuit after biscuit is handed over to the ravenous monkey, Yen simply looks at him with seeming amusement, all while passersby yell advice on how to deal with the monkeys and urge him to look back up at the camera and continue.

    The video has racked up almost 1 million hits since it was posted on Sina, the Chinese web site, Wednesday. Online commentators mostly express admiration for Yen’s ability to keep talking despite the distraction. Strangely though, many more commentators seemed interested in discussing the monk’s “strange” accent as much as the rambunctious macaques.

    Regardless, a marvelous big screen debut by both man and monkeys. 


  • Violence in Sichuan's Tibetan community...again

    Adrienne Mong/File

    Prayer flags en route to Aba in Sichuan Province.

    By Adrienne Mong

    For weeks, reports have been circulating of a growing crackdown on Tibetan areas in the southwestern province of Sichuan.

    In counties of Aba Prefecture, a remote region on the Tibetan Plateau--at best, a full day’s drive from the provincial capital of Chendgu--police and other security officials are said to be detaining monks (and killing two residents in the process) from and around Kirti Monastery after a young monk set himself on fire last month to protest Beijing’s Tibet policies.  Earlier this week, activists released footage of the self-immolated monk and widespread security.

    It’s the same region that saw major unrest just over three years ago, when Tibetan monks tried to protest peacefully against China’s religious restrictions.  The protests escalated into violent demonstrations that targeted ethnic Chinese and inflamed tensions throughout ethnic Tibetan communities in Chinese provinces outside Tibet—including Aba.

    The Tibetan government-in-exile in India has expressed concern about the extent of the current crackdown, saying it could become “genocide.”  The U.S. government, which said it’s monitoring the situation closely, has urged the Chinese to respect religious freedoms.

    In response, official Chinese media have quoted local officials accusing Tibetan monks of “lewd” behavior and, as Beijing often does, have blamed the current unrest on the Dalai Lama.  An editorial earlier this month in the state-run Global Times also challenges Washington over religious sensitivity:

    “Each country handles religious friction very carefully, trying to avoid expanded social influence, especially when this can spill over into political events. U.S. activists and U.S. military troops overseas have desecrated the Koran many times, the impact of which has been suppressed by the U.S.”

    As in March 2008, the foreign media have not been able to confirm independently the crackdown reports. 

    And as it was back then, authorities are now banning foreigners from traveling into parts of Aba as well as all of Ganzi Prefecture--which unlike Tibet itself are normally open to non-Chinese.

    Click here for our report from March 2008, when NBC News first tried to enter the area to verify reports of clashes between Tibetan monks and Chinese security.  Beijing’s strategy seems virtually unchanged.

    Adrienne Mong/File

    The Tibetan Plateau in Sichuan Province.

  • "Film them all, film them all, so many, so many!"

    By Adrienne Mong/NBC News

    "Burma VJ" writer/director Anders Østergaard takes questions from the audience.

    It seemed somehow fitting that news that Myanmar’s opposition leader and Nobel Peace Prizewinner, Aung San Suu Kyi, had been freed from 15 years of house arrest came to us during a screening of “Burma VJ” at Nordox 2010, the annual Nordic Documentary Film Festival in Beijing.

    The movie is a moving and powerful account of a team of Burmese “video journalists” covering the startling and tragic events of September 2007.

    Armed with tiny video cameras, these VJs documented the rise and fall of days-long protests in Yangon led by monks railing against the military junta and demanding Suu Kyi’s release. Running the highest risks, the journalists filmed everything commando-style (secretly, but sometimes openly) and smuggled the footage out by Internet and couriers so that it could be re-broadcast back into Myanmar.

    Watching “Burma VJ” sometimes brought a chill down one’s spine. After the initial – and moving – images of hundreds of saffron-robed monks walking quietly through the city streets with their alms bowls turned upside down in a defiant gesture of protest (a man turns to the camera and shouts, “Film them all, film them all, so many, so many,” is he a supporter or a spy?), the footage then documents the violent conclusion: military troops moving in to contain the demonstrations.

    It was hard not to be reminded of similar-looking pictures from 1989, when hundreds of thousands of students and workers had descended on Tiananmen Square. And then again when thousands of People’s Liberation Army troops were trucked in to end the protests decisively and brutally on the night of June 3.

    The parallel was not lost on the audience, an even mix of Chinese and westerners. Following the documentary, its director and writer, Anders Østergaard, fielded a number of insistent questions from curious Chinese who wanted to know whether he thought democracy was possible in China; what he thought of the imprisonment of that other Nobel laureate, Liu Xiaobo; whether he believed there was a global trend towards democracy; or what kind of country the Burmese VJs wanted if they were “not satisfied with the military government.”

    Perhaps the most telling question, however, was one that recognized nothing has changed in Myanmar despite the documentary’s compelling message and international distribution, buoyed by a clutch of awards and an Oscar nomination for Best Documentary this past year. The military junta still has a firm grip on power. The VJs are no longer active, having been arrested or driven into exile. And, until tonight, Suu Kyi was still under house arrest.

    As the film’s narrator, Joshua (the VJs’ team leader), put it before the protests began, “I feel like the world has forgotten us.”