Rebuilding Hope, a documentary film about the “Lost Boys” of Sudan is showing as part of the Seattle’s True Independent Film Festival (STIFF) at 7 p.m. on June 6 at the Northwest Film Forum and at 4 p.m. on June 9 at the Jewelbox Theater at the Rendezvous. Director Jen Marlowe will attend and hold a Q&A session after both screenings. I spoke with Marlowe about the film last fall. Here’s an edited version of that conversation.

I last ran into local filmmaker Jen Marlowe back in 2005, at a screening of her almost-completed Darfur Diaries documentary (now also a Darfur Diaries book). Calling Marlowe a filmmaker shorts her CV a bit, as she’s also an activist, playwright, and author. You could add traveler, as she’s been to Darfur, southern Sudan, Afghanistan, Israel, and Palestine just in the last few years.

If you ask her about which role she prefers, as I did, she’ll tell you that she’s primarily interested in activism, and operates in various media as best suits the subject. In fact, we passed up on Tully’s as a site for our interview because she wanted to find a local, indie coffee shop. (Hello, Café Allegro!)

Her newest film, Rebuilding Hope, came about because of her experiences interviewing refugees in Darfur. While gathering interviews for Diaries, the documentary team asked the villagers what they wanted help with most, and the answer was education, so after the film came out, they began sending money back to Darfur to help fund schools and teachers.

While pondering a return trip to Darfur to survey the effects of U.S. advocacy work, she found her attention drawn to the province’s neighbor. “I realized how inextricably connected the situation in Darfur is to the situation in south Sudan,” Marlowe said. About that time she ran into the journalist David Morse, who was planning a trip to the area with three ex-refugees who’d fled their village as children.

The three were Chris Koor Garang, Garang Mayuol, and Gabriel Bol Deng, none of whom was older than ten when they fled in the late ’80s. Growing up in refugee camps in Ethiopia and Kenya–like thousands of other boys caught in the civil war, nicknamed “The Lost Boys”–they were resettled in the U.S. in 2001. But 20 years later, they wanted to return home. Marlowe decided to go along.

Jen Marlowe

“It’s three different levels of discovery, I’d say,” explained Marlowe. “There’s the personal discovery of what happened to their families and what happened to their villages; there’s the investigation of what the situation is now is south Sudan–there was a peace agreement signed, but in 2007 it was very fragile and it’s even more precarious now; and the third question was, for these three young men, what could they do?”

The answer to that last question was to train staff for a health clinic in Akon, drill wells for drinking water in Lang, and build a school in Ariang. (All of the film’s proceeds will go to aid these efforts.) Chris Koor Garang is a licensed practical nurse and is studying to become an RN; Garang Mayuol is studying business management and is directing the drinking water project; and Gabriel Bol Deng has a Master’s in education. The work is underway–earlier this year drilling began on the first well, bricks were made for the school building, and training on health care began.

In the U.S., the prevailing mythology is that you can’t go home again, so I asked Marlowe how unusual this project was, among the Lost Boys population. “The pull to go back is very strong,” she said of the refugees she’d met. “What makes these three young men unique is their ability to do something. There are so many obstacles they’ve faced, just being able to carve out a life for themselves here in the U.S.” While it’s common for people to send money back home, implementing these kinds of community-wide projects is a step beyond.

In May 2007, Marlowe accompanied Morse and the trio of ex-refugees on their journey back to Sudan. The three did not know if their homes and families had survived the civil war, or if so, what life was like in south Sudan after the Comprehensive Peace Agreement.

“There were incredible moments,” Marlowe recounted, “when they first arrived back in their villages.” News of their return had preceded them: “The villages greeted them with this ceremony, as if it was a long-lost son returning from the dead.” Which was very close to the case. For two of the three, there had been no contact at all prior to their return. “The whole village embraced them–it wasn’t just a private reunion between parents and child.”

“It’s not just a movie about Sudan,” Marlowe added. “It’s not just a movie about refugees coming home. It’s about identity and family, and a central question all of us confront: ‘What is my responsibility in the world? What can I do with where I am and what I have?'”

I asked Marlowe about her unlikely role as a go-between of sorts between Seattle and Sudan. “Before I went to Darfur in 2004, I never had any intention that this would become such a huge issue in my life. There was never any indication earlier in my life that Sudan or Africa in general was going to be an area that I would be this deeply engaged in. But one thing I never want to become involved in is ‘hit-and-run’ activism. I’ve now been to south Sudan three times, and I’ve been going to Israel and Palestine for ten years. Once I take something on, it’s going to be a sustained commitment.”

That said, Sudan is just one chapter in Marlowe’s activist-media history. Her book The Hour of Sunlight, coming out in paperback this month, is a collaboration with Sami Al Jundi, who spent ten years in an Israeli prison before emerging as a non-violent peace activist. She’s also working on a play based on her experiences living in Jerusalem for five years (here’s her reporting on a recent visit), doing peace and justice work, and centers around the death of a 17-year-old colleague, who was killed by Israeli soldiers during a demonstration.

“It explores what it means to be a Palestinian inside Israel, which is in many ways different from being a Palestinian in the West Bank or Gaza.” Her play is similar to a documentary, Marlowe said, in that she didn’t create any of the dialogue between the young man and his sister–it’s all based on her own interviews with the family, emails he left behind, and transcripts from the Israeli inquiry into the incident.

Closer to home, she’s been working on a short film on Seattle’s most famous traveling homeless encampment, Nickelsville. “Where storytelling can be most powerful is if it challenges all of us to examine the reality around us,” Marlowe said, summing up the common thread in her work.

“Almost everything I do is about listening to personal stories, or testimony. Sometimes people describe my work as ‘giving voice to the voiceless,’ but I want to be clear that’s not what I’m doing. I don’t give anyone a voice–no matter how marginalized, people always have a voice. I just try to amplify it, and maybe create a space for people to hear.”

• You can rent Darfur Diaries at SunBreak advertiser Scarecrow Video (5030 Roosevelt Way NE, 206-524-8554). For more on Darfur and Sudan, Scarecrow suggests Darfur Now (2007), The Lost Boys of Sudan (2003), and God Grew Tired Of Us (2005).