What the Lost Boys of Sudan Found in America

In the car, Bernstein continues trying to make Alepho understand. Finally, he concedes the remark may have been a compliment. Shortly afterward, they pull into the unpaved parking lot of the Hotel Corona Plaza, where he will be staying. Alepho's fourth-floor room has two queen beds and a panoramic view of the beach. It's a palace compared to his San Diego apartment, and it will be his alone for the next five months.

Benjamin explodes into the room in a neon yellow body shirt, black pants, steel-framed mirrored sunglasses, and a blue scarf tied over his head. "How ya doin', buddy?" he crows. They embrace. Benjamin takes off his shades. "These are my movie star glasses. Try them on."

Alepho does, grinning. He pulls the glasses up, rests them on his forehead and smiles broadly as Benjamin tells them about working on the movie. They've been taking a replica 19th century ship out to sea every day to practice raising and lowering the sails and climbing the rigging. Then he casually mentions he met Russell Crowe.

"What's he like?" Bernstein asks excitedly.

Benjamin shrugs. "He's OK."

Suddenly, a carnal moan reverberates from the adjoining room, followed by a strange animal cry. A young man with a wild mane of tangled red hair and a beard bounds through the door wearing a T-shirt emblazoned HMS Enterprise. "That was me," he cackles. Several other male actors pile into the room, which soon takes on the aura of a frat party.

"You want to go down to the bar and play pool?" someone asks Benjamin.

"Yeah!" Benjamin grins.

The bar is a long rectangular room with a tile floor and large glass doors that open onto a pool deck, where the sunbathers include two young ladies in thong bikinis. Alepho, ever shy, still wears the sunglasses. He borrows Bernstein's video camera and begins recording the scene. The thonged women saunter in from the deck. They smile and wave at Benjamin and call out, "Hi, how are you?"

They enter Alepho's viewfinder. "Wow!" He sidles up to Bernstein and whispers, "Are they crazy?"

The two women move on to dance to music pulsating through the bar. "I've never seen that before," Benjamin says. "Ladies who stand naked in front of you. I don't really like it. It's not my culture. I like nice girls who wear maybe a T-shirt and shorts." He can't take his eyes off of them.

Someone produces a football. Benjamin and a few others move out to the deck and start tossing it around. The air is redolent of chlorine, suntan oil and tequila. The music kicks into a heavy percussion. Benjamin dances, knees bending, body bobbing.

Alepho begins to relax. He hands the camera to Bernstein then steps out to the deck. His knees begin to bend to the beat. He decides to join in tossing the football, which he has never played. The ball comes his way. He lunges, but it falls to the concrete. He chases it but his sunglasses fall off. They're hopelessly bent, so he sets them aside.

The ball comes to him again. He catches it and rifles it back.