The Wooden Camera Page #3

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Not anymore.

Hello, Harold.

They're gonna | put up your 20 million.

You're home early, Nunu.

So full of crap!

Hi.

I have been riding | all around the city

looking for you.

Hi, I'm Estelle.

So, did you like the book?

Ah, the secret book!

You don't speak English, | do you?

I speak English.

My name is Sipho.

Madiba's one of | my great friends.

He's a little bit shy, though.

But he's cool.

He doesn't look that shy.

Second thoughts--

You're right.

So, do you guys live | in Cape Town?

Nah.

I live all over-- everywhere.

But my friends live | in Khayelitsha.

Oh, we pass by it sometimes, | on the highway.

But we can only see | the rooftops.

- I can take you there, if you want. | - Shut up.

My music teacher-- | Mr. Shawn--

he's always there.

Do you know him-- | Mr. Shawn?

I have a lesson with him now. | Wanna come?

I'll go with you.

- Madiba doesn't know the city. | - Says who?

I know the city.

Come, let's go.

Nice.

Hello, Monique. | Did you practice last night--

- Your flute? | - Yes, I did.

- Really? | - Really.

Good, good.

- Ah, Estelle. | - Hello.

Ah, Mr. Filmmaker.

Is it real?

Can I see it?

Sometime, maybe?

Where is your cello?

My mom said | that I could ride over.

Well, then,

you'll just have to use mine.

Go in.

Come on.

I'm coming. Hello.

So...now.

- Try to concentrate-- | - Yes.

on the intimate contact | between you and the instrument,

as a single unit.

- Understand? | - Okay.

Okay, I'm listening.

And--

Let the music take you.

Very good.

Getting there.

Wow, she's good.

Ya, she is.

You know,

Mr. Shawn called me | a filmmaker.

What do you think?

I don't know.

Well, then,

maybe you are one.

Yeah.

Maybe one day | my pictures will hang

on his wall, next to | those other great people.

Yeah, maybe one day.

Maybe.

Thank you, Johanna.

Does she know it's ready?

I called her twice. | She won't open the door.

She's getting her | revenge on me.

Place is a f***ing | squatter camp.

I suppose you know | about all this?

We all have our little secrets.

Like father, like daughter.

Where the hell is she?

Hi, dad.

Where you been?

To my music lesson.

Oh, so you went | to your music lesson?

Yes.

I suppose your mother | took you, huh?

No, she was resting.

So I took my bike.

You took your bike.

Listen,

what's all that crap | on your walls?

It's just stuff, Dad.

And those books?

Now, c'mon, where | do you get those books from?

Who gave them to you?

I took all my horse books | to book exchange.

I felt I was growing | out of them.

Dinner smells nice.

I'm going to wash up.

Ma?

What?

Did my father | come home last night?

Louise, stop asking | silly questions.

Wake up and do | your work, okay?

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