Since premiering at the Dublin Jameson International Film Festival, Promise and Unrest (dir. Alan Grossman, Áine O'Brien) has received numerous positive reviews and several opportunities to screen at international film festivals. The Cambridge Film Festival calls it "a gut-wrenchingly powerful film." Luke McManus of RTÉ Radio 1 praises its character development and its visual appeal. Yet no review I read admired the film for bringing attention to global migrant labor and its consequences.
Promise and Unrest documents five years in the life of Noemi Barredo, a Pilipina migrant who works as an elderly caregiver in Dublin, Ireland. Remaining at home are her two children, Noy-Noy and Gracelle (fondly called Chinggay by her family), who are taken care of by her sister, Neriza.
This growing phenomenon of transnational women has alarmed many scholars and activists; about half of the total population of migrant workers are women. In 2004, sociologists Barbara Ehrenreich and Arlie Russell Hochschild's Global Woman: Nannies, Maids, and Sex Workers in the New Economy argue that because First World women are entering the workforce in increasing numbers but are still expected to take up the bulk of the household's domestic duties, Third World women are being hired as nannies, maids, and elderly caregivers to pick up the slack. But what of these domestic workers' own homes? Ehrenreich and Hochschild point out that these workers often do not return home for years and that their own children are often cared for by aging parents or by other relatives. Some nannies admitted to feeling closer to their clients' children than their own.
Sociologist Rhacel Parrenas' Servants of Globalization details the devaluation of domestic work, women, and Pilipina/o labor as seen in their low wage, despite how physically and emotionally grueling migrant labor is.
The film brings attention to these issues, albeit subtly. It includes multiple moments where the viewer can see (and feel) the emotional disconnect and heartbreak that this family often faces. Noemi leaves to work abroad for the first time when Chinggay is only 9 months old. When Chinngay is 6, her mother returns home for a visit, only to find that Chinggay doesn't recognize her.
The dialogue between Noemi and her roommate, another elderly caregiver named Elvie, reveals the physical and emotional toll that their thankless work takes on them. Unlike in a nursing home where several nurses attend to a group of patients, Noemi and Elvie often work 24 hours a day as the sole caregiver of a patient.
Despite this, their work is devalued and often taken for granted. At one point, the Irish government proposes changes to work permits that would put many migrant laborers out of work. I congratulate Promise and Unrest for not victimizing Noemi and her family, but rather showing their agency. Noemi joins other Pilipina/o workers in protests against these work permit changes and attends meetings, speaking out against these changes.
Films about overseas Pilipina/o workers are nothing new. Anak (dir. Rory B. Quintos), a film about a Pilipina migrant worker (played by Vilma Santos) whose children grow to resent her, was released ten years ago. The Sarah Balabagan Story (dir. Joel Lamangan), based on the true story of a Pilipina domestic worker (played by Vina Morales) in United Arab Emirates who kills her employer for allegedly attempting to rape her, was released back in 1997.
Promise and Unrest is not a dry documentary, but an emotional rendering of the phenomenon of transnational women not unlike the aforementioned dramas. As a Pinay, this documentary really hits home and may even bring a tear to your eye.
As I watched this film, I thought of my great-uncle who worked for 20 years as a truck driver in Saudi Arabia and never had a chance to visit to the Philippines to see his family before passing away. I thought of my auntie who works as a domestic helper in Hong Kong, leaving behind a one-year-old son in the Philippines. I thought of my mother's Pilipina friends in Okinawa who were conned by Japanese employers who claimed they were hiring them to work as cultural dancers in Japan, only to be forced to work as strippers and prostitutes. I thought about the time I studied abroad in Rome and met Pilipinas/os living there, who always asked me upon meeting me, "Are you a D.H.?" Being a domestic helper has become so commonplace that it was abbreviated, and it assumed that I knew what the abbreviation stood for.
As of December 2007, there are 8.7 million to 11 million overseas Pilipinas/os worldwide, equivalent of about 11% of the total population in the Philippines. Given these statistics, this film is sure to hit home for many in the Pilipina/o diaspora.
For all of you in Southern California, Promise and Unrest will be shown at this year's San Diego Asian Film Festival on Monday, October 25th at 5:30p. It is sponsored by AF3IRM San Diego (formerly known as GABNet).
For more information on the film, visit its official website.
SOURCE: Wikipedia: Overseas Filipino
