Inside a Women’s Prison in Afghanistan

Our work in the Herat prison began with a performance called “Backbiters”. Now we’ve begun ongoing workshops. This post from Anna delves into the prison itself and why these women are here in the first place.

The Prison

The women’s prison is in a different compound from last time we were here. Their prior location was adjacent to the men’s prison and was needed for overflow of male prisoners. (The male prison is overcrowded with more than 3,000 inmates! The women total around 140.) It’s a good thing the women moved, as there had reportedly been problems with sexual abuse by the male guards, and now the women have their own separate location with only female guards.  The new compound also looks less like a prison. Instead of being stuck within a concrete enclosure with bars on the windows and heavy metal doors, the women can move freely between the buildings and the surrounding open space of the courtyard. Laundry hangs to dry between a few trees. The women sleep in communal dorm rooms with bunk beds, colorful blankets, and television. The women do not wear uniforms as is common in American prisons; they wear personal clothing as well as jewelry and make-up. This already makes for a more humane experience. Wearing uniforms dehumanizes individuals. From what I understand, the women can spend the day as they wish, and have available various activities supported by different NGO’s – tailoring, rugmaking, hairdressing, literacy classes, and an agricultural program where they learn to plant vegetables.

We met with the director of the women’s prison, an affable but authoritarian woman in her fifties. She told us she does not want the prison to look like a prison but instead like a dormitory with supportive activities for the women. She greatly welcomed our program.

This sounds very promising, and the conditions for the women don't seem so bad. Still, it is a prison and the women do not have their freedom. They are constrained within walls and they do not have control over their own lives. Of course, for some this may not be very different than their prior circumstances: many women in Afghanistan are not allowed to leave the house and all their activities are controlled and restricted by their husband, father, or brothers. Quite often they are beaten and abused. For some, prison must be preferable to what they endured outside it. Even so, to be in prison carries stigma, knowing you have been shamed and shunned by your community and family, stamped as a criminal and punished by society. Before you were controlled by your family, now you are controlled by the state. Your life is not your own. 

The Women

Given these difficult circumstances and with little hope for the future, many of the women have become depressed, self-harming and suicidal. One day we arrived for workshop and a woman came up to us and showed us her wrist, which had two deep burn marks. She had burned herself with a cigarette. I asked, why did you do that? She said, I was so full of angry feelings! She had wanted to see the doctor and the guard wouldn’t let her. She couldn't lash out at the guard so she lashed out at herself. Our fellow workshop leader, one of the young women from Simorgh Theatre, said she felt sick when she saw the burns and she couldn’t understand how this woman could do that to herself. But in the face of such utter lack of control and power over one’s life, this is sometimes the only way a person knows to cope and manage intense feelings and distress. This is why we are doing the workshops, to give these women an outlet in which they can express their feelings – and find more constructive and creative coping mechanisms. 

It is no wonder these women are depressed and frustrated when one learns the reasons they are  in prison. Many if not most are in prison for adultery--that is, they had sex outside marriage. This is a crime in Afghanistan. A girl falls in love with a boy; they have relations; now they are both in prison. Some women run away from home. This is not a crime per se, but it is assumed that they engaged in illicit relations. It is almost impossible for a woman to prove her innocence. Upon arrest, a woman has to submit to a virginity test, an extremely violating procedure that proves nothing. And certainly not if you happen to be a married woman. In many instances, the women have engaged in sex, but whether they were truly willing is questionable. It comes down to this: if a woman wants to leave her home, she needs the help of a man. The price for this is sex.

Why does an Afghan woman feel compelled to leave her home? Usually it's because of forced marriage and abuse. Many of the women spoke of the problem of marrying too young. As I was repeatedly told, a daughter is a toy to her father and a slave to her husband. But it does happen that she runs away for love.  A 17-year old girl in the prison ran off from home with a boy she loved, but since they now agreed to marry, they will both be released. This is one story that has a happy ending, but other girls are not so lucky. The boy no longer wants them, and now they are stuck in prison. After that, where can she go? Often the family will not accept her as she has brought "dishonor" upon them and may even threaten to kill her.

Even in the case of rape, a woman will be sent to prison for adultery. Because no one believes her. It is enough to be accused of infidelity by your husband to get locked up. Many women and girls seemed to be in prison based simply on someone’s accusation. In one case, a woman was raped by her husband’s brother, but the husband accused her of having an affair. The brother fled to Iran. The woman was sent to prison. She was pregnant but the husband said it wasn't his child and divorced her. She was released after eight months. The usual sentence for adultery is 1.5-3 years.

Some of the women are in prison for murder. They killed their husbands. No doubt for many it was a desperate act. They were married off young and abused by the husband and his whole family. But in some cases, the woman loved someone else and together they conspired to kill the husband and run away. The desperation is there but the justification is sometimes questionable.

It was challenging to learn the real reasons why the women were in prison, because, we were told, the women will often make up stories until they feel safe in speaking the truth or if they think it might benefit them in some way. But I also felt it was difficult to get accurate information from those we spoke with in prison management; they seemed too ready to dismiss the women’s circumstances. But after further discussion, they acknowledged the challenge that exists for a woman to be able to prove her innocence and how often she is in a compromised situation. The system is set up to fail these women. No matter the crime or reason, the real problem is that they have very little chance to defend themselves or escape their circumstances.

The prison psychologist shared a few particular cases with us:

·         One woman killed her husband with the help of her 14-year old son, because the father was a drug addict who tried to rape their 9-year old daughter. Now both the mother and her son are in prison. The mother was sentenced to 16 years.

·         A young woman had been beaten by her father so severely in her childhood she didn’t walk until she was six years old. As she got older her father wanted to marry her off, but she refused. She put gasoline on her father and burned him. She is sentenced to 18 years.

·         The psychologist spoke to us also about kidnapping and how entire families are swept up in the crime. A father and a brother may have conspired to kidnap someone for money. The police then raid their house and arrest everyone: the mother, the daughters, the sister-in-law, the grandmother, and everyone goes to prison. There are two young women in prison now for this crime. One was jailed at age 14 and sentenced to five years.

Here are additional stories from the women we worked with:

·         “A” has been in prison two months now. She killed her father because he was forcing the mother to have “temporary marriages” with other men (that is, sex for money). Finally the daughter couldn’t take it any longer. She took her brother’s gun and shot her father. Then she went to the police and said: “I have killed my father and I am happy I did it!” She is ashamed that he was her father, and she is proud she killed him so her mother doesn’t have to be “married” to another man again. "A" has a one month old baby with her in prison. I don’t know how long she has to stay there.

·         B is a feisty and outgoing young woman of 17 years old. She had an affair with a neighborhood boy. A couple of months later she got married, but her husband discovered she was not a virgin. So she said she had been raped. Her husband wanted to kill the other boy. But the neighbor called the national army for help and said the husband had a gun and also that he and B had stolen money. The national army came and beat up the husband so he ended up in the hospital. B had an altercation with the neighbor's daughter and cut her with a knife. Everybody was arrested, including the neighbor's daughter because she knew about the illicit relation and had not reported it, and was therefore accessory to the crime. The husband has now been released as well as the neighbor's daughter, but B and the neighbor boy were just sentenced to six months in prison for adultery. A complicated situation! B has a lot of anxiety and nervous problems. But she is very enthusiastic about the workshops and fully engaged. She’s our star participant. She even stayed up one night until one a.m. teaching the others in her room all the exercises she had learned!

·         C is in her early twenties and also very excited about our workshops and a main participant. She has been in prison for 7 months and has a 10 month old daughter. Her situation is a bit unclear. She had problems with her husband, and apparently he accused her of stealing and got her put in prison. The husband has now divorced her. She is about to be released and says her family supports her. But the first day we met she said to me that she wanted to find a family to take care of her daughter and give her an education, because if the daughter was left with her father he would marry her off early as he did her. She is so inspired by the workshops that she wants to continue doing theater when she gets out.

·         D is 27 years old. She was married at 15, but the husband became addicted to opium. He would abuse her and her child. She says her father and mother-in-law encouraged their son to beat her. They accused her of having sex with other men. She is now in prison for one year. She is worried about her 11-year old daughter who is with the in-laws; they don’t let her go to school and they beat her. The daughter comes to visit the mother every two weeks and says she’d rather stay with her in prison.

·         E is in her late forties and has a young child with disabilities. She has been active in all the programs the prison offers.  E has been in the prison 10 months and is sentenced to 16 years for killing her daughter’s husband. But she says she didn’t do it. I did not get to find out further and verify her story. Perhaps she did do it, or perhaps someone else did and she got the blame. Perhaps her daughter did it and she took the blame instead. There are several situations like this where the man died and the wife gets blamed for his death. There is little a woman can do to defend herself.

·         F is 22 and recently arrived in prison with her newborn son. She got there when her baby was 10 days old. Her husband’s second wife had died suddenly, and now she and her husband were accused of killing her by the wife’s brothers. She is in prison pending investigation and autopsy, and is hoping to be cleared.

·         Then we have G who is 19 and was working as a police officer in Kabul. One day her brother called and said, “Congratulations! Your father has found a husband for you.” But she did not want to get married, she wanted to go to the university and continue her work. The family summoned her back to Herat. She met her prospective fiancé, but did not like him – so she shot him. Just like that. Apparently, her father and brother often visit her in prison so it seems they have a good relationship. Why did she not simply ask them to please not make her marry? She said she doesn’t know, she just got so angry. She didn’t think the family would listen to her. She has now been sentenced to hanging. And yet she always seems to be in a good mood when we see her!

The women are very happy when we come but this does not mean they aren’t suffering. And sometimes they are just too depressed to participate. But we have to keep showing up for them -- the workshops are ongoing so that they will have this support available for a long term.

The Children

As mentioned, the women have their children with them in prison. Children stay with their mothers until the age of 5, when they are placed in a child support center run by a non-profit. We visited and will be doing workshops there as well. It’s a good place and the children genuinely seem well-cared for. This is really encouraging to see. They get to visit their mothers every two weeks or so. The smaller kids who are with the mothers in the prison get sent to a kindergarten every day, where government employees’ children go. This is also a new development and did not exist four years ago when we last visited, as far as I know. It’s really good that the children can be with their mothers, but it is important that they are not stuck inside the prison all the time and can socialize with other kids. There are about 75 children living with their mothers in the prison. One girl was seven years old, but otherwise mostly toddlers and babies. We had several crawling around us as we did our workshop. The women are help each other take care of the babies, so the mothers can participate. 

Stay posted for further updates about the juvenile center and our other performances!

Starting Anew in Myanmar: Update 2

Joanna Sherman's update from Myanmar on blending the East and West on stage, Burmese culture "opening up," and the future of theatre in the country.

Finally -- greetings from Myanmar!  All is going very well.  We have been having some fascinating discussions with Thila Min about Buddhism, life, theatre, making sense of the recent violence here, Myanmar cultural history, and... the play.  All endlessly interesting. 

Basically, we have been exploring how Burmese performance styles and US/European styles can blend in style, character, setting, music, dance, and structure of the play. We are watching DVDs of famous zat pwe performers and performances, looking mostly at structure: for example, they always begin with the Nat pwe, a dance to certain spirits to get on their good side. Otherwise these spirits seemed to me to be a bit shady or hedonistic (tricksters?) who could play some nasty pranks during the performance.  So perhaps we might start with such a dance -- what fun!  At the same time, the costumes and altar to these spirits are, as Thila says, very "bling bling", which fits right into Volpone's love of "bling".  The altar to the spirits could very easily become Volpone's altar to his gold, and the play does open with he and Mosca's worshiping their stash. 

We have had further discussions on where the show will travel, what kind of venues, and who would our audiences be??  These are huge questions since modern theatre is really unknown!  Just like Afghanistan... for slightly different reasons.  In one, the government forbade it on religious grounds, and the other, the government forbade it on political grounds. As things loosen up, the Thukhuma Khayeethe folks seem to think it is time to take modern theatre public. But still, who will our audiences be?  The National Theatre here in Yangon still stands idle except for rentals for big events. But even the concerts lose money.  The zat pwe is very cheap and everyone knows exactly what to expect.  Could we do some scenes in the pwe?  Thila says not.  People go the pwe to have a night out of entertainment, but actual attention to what's on stage drifts in and out depending on personal taste, who's awake and who's sleeping, what's to eat, who you're with, etc.  It's a night-long picnic. Everyone knows the stories so no need to actually pay attention.  A serious tale (however comical) would not command attention with the pwe crowd. 

So we are thinking that perhaps cinemas might offer a venue, or maybe schools... we are starting anew here. There is no knowledge of modern theatre. If we succeed, we are opening a new door.  It is quite like what we were doing in Afghanistan with Exile Theatre -- first people who saw our work were aghast at what they saw in our abstract surreal storytelling... then slowly they all tried to mimic it.  (At least in Afghanistan they had a tradition in the Stanislavsky style from the Russians two decades before).  Here we hope Thukhuma Khayeethe can lead the way. I expect it will have a tough start, and that's why we are trying to cagily introduce some mix of East and West to ease in some new ideas.

We still have a lot more decisions to make about language, costume, character, staging, music, etc. but we are off to a good start.  We made a great start in our prior rehearsal process, and now (especially since things are truly looking like they are opening up... even just over the course of one year) we can really plan to take our show public!  Not just hidden away at Gitameit or the American Center or Alliance Francais. 

We have a hiatus now in our work on the play during the Water Festival.  It officially starts today and we will report!

Kandahar Theatre Update 3: Another Job Well Done

Michael writes from Jalalabad on the work with Kandahar Theatre.

After the ten day training and rehearsal period here in Jalalabad with Maiwand Theatre Company both the men and the women have done their first productions, and now are heading back to Kandahar to arrange four more performances each.

Despite losing a day over the recent anti-film protests (not here, as far as I can tell) we accomplished a lot. Having the Kandahar team here 24-7 meant we could have more time with them, and they were motivated enough to train and rehearse on their own some evenings and early mornings. For the men's group, we decided to use a script written by our Nangahar Theatre collaborator, Zhwandoon; and for the women we used the script we developed last year with the Nangahar women's team. The men's show promoted the civil and religious laws that favor the rights of women (forced marriage not allowed, no violence), and the women's show called for unity among women and an end to the "backbiting".

This was a good opportunity to revisit past work. Both shows were previously produced by other teams, and the directors of the previous versions were on hand to help remount the new adaptations. Thus they got to see how we adapt and direct based on the strengths (or, in some cases, the lack thereof) of different actors for the same material. We also could delve a little deeper in acting technique without having to create new material.

The men performed yesterday at the Lincoln Learning Center to 75 appreciative high school and college age students, while the women performed early today at a women's training center (I forgot to get the stats from Joanna, sorry).  Both shows went very well, in our humble opinions.

There are a great many new insights and stories associated with the process, and I'll try to get them down in future updates, but here is one from rehearsing the guy's show. Though the basic story line has serious intent, one actor played the clownish nephew, and he was pretty good in the part. The central object in this tale is a government published book on the laws of the rights of women. At one point the nephew is holding the book up by his face as the teacher points out this and that law. His uncle comes up and slaps him on the back, and he closes the book on his nose. Funny comedy bit (if they get the timing right, which is about 65% of the time). Well, in our last rehearsal before the performance, one of the actors points out that the book also has Koranic laws written in it as well (NOW he tells me) and some members of the audience might not think it so funny. Well, I tell them, you guys gotta be the judge on this; if you think it's a problem then we don't have to do the bit, BUT (deep breath here), if the point of the show is to see how much the audience really knows about what is written in the law, this will give you an indication of what they know. I bet most of them never heard of this book, much less know what's in it, that's what you are trying to tell them. So maybe do the bit, and see if indeed you get a reaction. Well, they understood my point, but the consensus was maybe they shouldn't do it.

Of course, come show time and the actors clearly forgot the entire conversation, because they did the bit anyway, and nobody stormed the stage. It didn't get much of a laugh either, despite the timing being pretty good. I think more than anything else the whole concept of live theatre is still new to live audiences, and they don't quite know how to react until the end, when they applauded enthusiastically.

We'll be here in Jalalabad until Friday with some follow-up with our local teams, and then head back to Kabul to check in with the teams there.

Despite whatever is going on around the world, it's still a pretty big world, and it's been safe and sound in our neck of the woods. Still, we'll keep our eyes open and ears close to the ground, and follow the advice of our friends.

Much love,

Intern Spotlight: Heddy Lahmann

Program Associate Heddy Lahmann is a California native and a graduate of San Diego State and the University of Connecticut.  

All Roads Lead to Bond Street

Heddy strikes a pose.

I was 11 when I got my first theatre bug. As a shy kid in a new school forced to take a drama class, my first “solo” assignment filled me with terror. Much to my surprise, however, my classmates gave me a resounding round of applause when I finished my performance and suddenly I was receiving recognition and even praise from peers that were waaaaay cooler than I. That happenstance drama course gave me a confidence I'd never experienced before, and ultimately changed the course of my life.

I pursued my education in theatre with a fervor that took me through college and graduate school and ultimately brought me here to New York City. And while that little 11 year old narcissist within is still alive and well, my outlook on the application of theatre and performance in my own life and the lives of others has changed in the years since middle school.

As a grad student, a teacher of mine spoke about his experience working with an organization whose focus was international humanitarian outreach through theatre. I'd never head of such a thing! Something stirred inside and I had to get to know more. I wound up traveling as a performer with Clowns Without Borders to Haiti following the 2010 earthquake and performing in tent camps, schools, and hospitals. It was that trip that solidified for me that theatre could be used in more dynamic ways than I had ever imagined, and this was work that I wanted to pursue.

Go Heddy!

I stumbled on Bond Street Theatre's website via idealist.org and knew I had to be a part of what they were doing somehow. In March I met with Joanna and one week later I found myself in the loft space of BST, working alongside superheroes. One week after that, and they had me traipsing around the office on stilts! (These particular superheroes have no qualms about sharing their superpowers.) The folks at BST continue to blow my mind with their unwavering generosity of spirit, passion, dedication and drive to bring theatre to the most remote and sometimes dangerous of places-- boldly going where no one has gone before as pioneers for change. A day "at the office" may consist of watching/editing videos from the latest journey to Haiti or Afghanistan, booking the Stilt Band at a new venues, aiding in the preparation of grants and final reports, watching and learning the Young Audience Program DVDs, or a trip to the illustrious basement to gather another collection of treasures to take to Materials for the Arts. There's a lot of pieces to the puzzle of what it takes to run such a uniquely small and yet global operation. I am a happy little sponge during my hours here, taking as much knowledge, skill and swagger as I can possibly absorb.

Most recently, preparations have been underway for another Bond Street journey to Afghanistan, this one specifically to bring theatre by Afghan women (trained by BST) to Afghan women in the prison system.  The empowerment I felt as a timid adolescent that sparked my own love of theatre, that's what BST takes to the most seemingly impossible of locations to the most seemingly impossible of populations. On my own theatrical journey, I aspire to have the bravery, gusto, and even a jot of the kind of impact that Bond Street has had on the world. It's an epic and marvelous adventure to be learning about this invaluable work and the special folks who do it.

Singing On The Stilts....

Things I Learned in Guatemala

Ilanna reflects on her first trip with Bond Street Theatre to Guatemala.

When I first learned I’d be going on our project to Guatemala to work with girls at an orphanage, images flashed through my mind: pessimistic and frail children, theater as the Answer to All Their Problems, and strolling through the countryside en route to our performances. Thankfully (for the first two), I was dead wrong. The girls we met at the orphanage are strong, resilient, and optimistic. They are opinionated and determined, smart and hopeful. And they’re not looking for us to answer their problems—they were looking to us for friendship, fun, leadership training, and teambuilding. And with those as my redefined mission, I got to breathe a sigh of relief. “ohhh--my job is to try to make life richer and teach people how to be proactive, not to Provide the Answer.” And the gusto the girls showed in the following three weeks trying goofy things, helping each other, letting themselves get silly, learning dances and attempting it in homemade masks, creating both poignant and ridiculous tableaux, and then discussing everything—all this proved our work had achieved its purpose. 

Ilanna and Christina performing Se Necesita Soñyar.  
Thanks to John Kirkmire.

I think some of my favorite moments occurred mid-performance of our clown play, Se Necesita Soñar. In the show, I wanted to go to the ocean with the cricket and Christina didn’t want to go.  We led our respective sides of the audience chanting “si si si!” or “no no no!”. Each performance, right before that part, I’d look out at my half of the sea of eager eyes, and know they were with me. I’d make a hand gesture meaning “you too, this time!” and a chorus of voices would join with my chant. 

Where were the shy, unfocused children I had been warned of? These kids were anything but. Kids are kids everywhere—they latch onto a presence that gives them attention and run with it.  After some of the performances, we would take our bow and leave to the chant of “Otra! Otra!” (“More! More!”). I was afraid it would be like pulling teeth to get these kids to participate; in fact the challenge was in getting them to remain passive audience members. Some of these kids had never seen theater or been given the opportunity to be silly in a group before. I think we did this show, about a cricket following its ridiculous dream to go to the ocean, for those kids. I like to think they went home that night, where they may or may not have food to eat, running water, or literate parents, smiling and dreaming about their own desires, just a little bit more prepared to deal with the challenges of the next day. 

Squished in the back of a truck indeed!

Oh--and we didn’t leisurely stroll to these shows, as I had for some reason assumed. We happily made our way squished into tiny tuk-tuks and the backs of pick-up trucks, bumping along to bring smiles and laughter to environs alarmingly bleak but wholeheartedly deserving. 

Things I Learned in Guatemala:

1. You can never listen to Shakira’s “Waka Waka” song too many times. Especially while doing a free style movement warm up!

2. The city of Antigua is beautiful, old, and colorful. It is taken over by students at Spanish schools and gringo NGO workers. Imagine “Epcot Guatemala”. But you don’t have to look far to find the other side of this facade. A 10 minute drive out of the city’s picturesque cobblestoned streets brings you to small farms that have “se vende tortillas” signs, lots of electric barbed wire, and roads in various stages of development. I’m glad that the show we’re touring will bring us out of this little paradise and into areas with more turmoil and less access to foreign checkbooks.

3. Teaching in Spanish is difficult, but gets exponentially easier everyday. We use many of the same words (body parts, theater lessons, simple commands) everyday, and now they are beginning to be second nature. It’s amazing how much I can get across by saying a few Spanish phrases and then using my body and facial expressions to convey the rest of the thought. It has also delightfully surprised me how patient the girls are with our Italian- and Creole-peppered Spanish (complete with competing accents).

Ilanna in the world's most beautiful McDonalds.

4. Antigua has been said to have the most beautiful McDonalds in the world, and this morning as I was sipping a frozen latte staring at a volcano topped in clouds peaking up behind the ruins of an old church, which was situated on the other side of a be-fountained courtyard, I couldn’t help but agree.

5. Water bottles make very good puppet cricket bodies, especially when covered with old green corduroy fabric.

6. Even though it is not my personal belief system, I cannot doubt the good that God, Jesus, and the church has done for many of the people I’ve met here. The girls at the orphanage, who’ve all been taken away from their families because of sexual abuse, get so much hope from religion. Who am I to say that’s not valid? Where do I get the authority to think “those are just stories” or “you determine you own destiny”? If that’s what people want to believe, then okay, their beliefs make it real for them. And that’s enough.

Lions, Tigers, Clowns, and a Cricket: Guatemala Update

From May 20-June 16, Bond Street Theatre artists Christina, Ilanna, and Olivia were in Guatemala to work with girls in Oasis Orphanage, thanks to Ida's Hjelpefond and the Davis Projects for Peace.  Olivia writes from the field in San Lucas and Antigua.

Hello all!
I made it to Guatemala- and am already entranced by the country.  Guatemala is wonderful, and the work is wonderful too.

The masks.

First thing when I arrived, the 17 girls who participated in the first two weeks of workshops with Ilanna and Christina performed what they had learned for all the Oasis staff and residents. Thee 5 youngest ones are not continuing to devise the final show due to scheduling. so they all put together a presentation of what they had been learning - Commedia stands, Dead or Alive, silly handshakes, and a dance with animal masks made with balloons and papier mache. The ladies made lions, tigers, a lizard, an elephant, and a cow.  They danced to "Send Me On My Way," which caused all the girls to shout out, "MATILDA!" It was a lot of fun, and certainly a community affair!

Ilanna, Christina, and Marlita (the cricket puppet).

After the girls' performance, Ilanna and Christina performed the Spanish language show they devised in Guatemala.  It is the story of a cricket, Marlita, who finds the clowns to ask them to bring her to the sea and fulfill her life-long dream.  When they make it to the sea, there is a dangerous storm that threatens to destroy the cricket's home town!  She and the clowns must rush back to her pueblo to warn the community about the incoming storm- and they make it just in time.  It is loosely based on a Mayan folktale about a singing cricket, and Ilanna and Christina have turned it into a fun, interactive, and very funny show appropriate for all ages.  The Oasis ladies loved it.

The problem tree.

Then we got right to work with the12 older girls. We made a problem tree to examine the issues in the community, and I simply could not believe how wise these young ladies are. Most are actually not orphans, but have been removed from their biological homes due to sexual abuse.  Instead of delving into self destructive behavior they have found an incredible positivity.

They identified "la falta de amor"'- lack of love- as the main problem in the community. They noted how the roots of the problem and its manifestations are cyclical, and it is so easy to get trapped in that cycle from an early age. The way out from such abuse and oppression must begin with the individual, and then move outward to the family and to the world. These girls blow my mind.

We gave them a little homework: come up with a 1 or 2 minute piece about lack of love. We see their work on Wednesday, and start to turn it into a show. I know they will bring in great material to mine for the final piece.

One more quick fun fact- we are staying at a home stay called La Familia in Antigua, which has a bunch of rooms. The current La Familia residents include: the Guatemalan couple who owns and runs it, their youngest son, 2 Norwegians (Ida, our project partner, and a social worker named Turid), 3 BST actor-educators, and 3 Seminary students from Virginia. We are certainly a motley bunch!

More soon,
Olivia

Haiti Photos

Here are photos from our work with the women of Favilek: workshops, rehearsals and performances!  And just sharing a great experience!

Click on the following link:

PHOTOS - BST and FAVILEK 2012

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The girls perform at the Women's Shelter

Report by Anna: 
The very first performance that our girls' troupe undertakes (outside of the try-out for family and friends) is a show at a women’s shelter in Herat. The shelter is run by Voice of Women, an organization based in Herat led by Soraya Pakzad who has worked tirelessly since Taliban time to fight for women’s rights, and who started Afghanistan's first shelter in 2003.

There are about 40 women and girls at the shelter ranging in age from 15 to 25, and mostly under 20. They are escaping abusive marriages, and in most cases forced marriages. Some were about to be married off and ran away beforehand. They are lucky to have ended up here in the shelter, and not in jail or worse. If they are caught by the police they risk getting raped and put in prison, and if sent back home they may be killed.

Parwana, who works at VOW and is coordinating our visit, talks to me about the situation the women are in and decries the inhumanity of it all. She exclaims, “they feel…!,” and searching for the words she utters something about “not human!” I think she is saying the girls feel they are not treated as humans, but then I realize she is talking about the husbands, that they are not human the way they act. And she tells me about one girl who came to the center. The husband had cut off her fingers and slashed her face across the cheek from mouth to ear. What kind of man would do such a thing? And why? (Beyond its senseless cruelty, it even seems senseless out of practicality -- now the husband has to look at her disfigured face, and how is she going to be able to do his cooking and laundry with her fingers cut off? How does that serve him? But he doesn't think about this, he doesn't think at all.) Both are true – the girls are not treated as human beings and the men are not acting as humans. What we think of as human – humane – humanity… separating us from the beasts.

Unfortunately, this girl’s situation is all too common. Beatings and barrages of mental abuse are an everyday occurrence for young wives in Afghanistan, perpetrated by the husband and any or all of his relatives. Across Afghanistan, girls are forced into marriage and essentially condemned to life as a household slave. Often the girl is young and the man much older. It is not uncommon for a 12-year old to be married off to a 60-year old man! Many of these girls are driven to such despair that they set themselves on fire and burn themselves to death. It is difficult to fathom. In the Herat area there have been 100 such self-immolations in the past year. That’s two girls every week setting themselves on fire.

I look at the women, at the younger girls, and wonder about each one’s circumstances. But I don’t want to ask as it’s such a sensitive matter and I respect their privacy. And it's time to start the show.

The women laugh a lot, and they applaud at the end of each scene! The play is not necessarily meant to be that funny (although we have definitely incorporated some comic bits)... After all, we’re dealing with a serious subject matter that we want to earnestly bring awareness to: the abuse that mothers-in-law so often perpetuate, and how it destroys families. If women treat each other horribly, how can they make men treat them any better? We want to make sure people take it to heart and are moved to make a change. In this case, however, the laughter is good and it doesn’t mean they aren’t taking the play seriously or its message. Presented and received as a comedy, it is easier to take in the play and what it addresses. These women have lived through this, they don’t need to see it presented to them in a heavy and serious way. This is how comedy can be cathartic, getting to laugh about something that is painful. The women gain some vindication in seeing their reality acknowledged.

But this is not enough. In the Q&A afterward, one woman speaks up to tell us that we must show this play to the men, to the families, out in the community -- "they are the ones who need to see it, not us in here, we already know!" She is adamant and angry – and we assure her that this is indeed our intent. As we leave, the woman thanks us for our visit and asks us when we will come again. They rarely have any visitors, and hardly ever leave the shelter. But this confinement is a blessing compared to the hell they were living before.

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The play's the thing!

Report by Anna -- finally adding some further posts about our performances, end of April and beginning May in Afghanistan!

*     *     *

The girls’ show is about a mother-in-law who abuses her daughter-in-law with constant put-downs and beatings. This is actually a big problem in Afghanistan. It is a pattern that gets repeated time and again. Often a young girl is married off to an older man who abuses her along with his grown sons and all other relatives around. Or a girl gets married to a boy -- both of them too young – with the boy trying to establish his manhood and beating his wife at the behest of his mother. A man might get a young wife just to be a slave to his mother. The mother was herself a young bride once who was mistreated by her mother-in-law. And so she perpetuates a behavior that has become ingrained. It is difficult to understand why women would stand against other women rather than stand together in this patriarchally oppressive society, or why a mother would discard her daughter, but it has to do with economics for one thing. A daughter brings no economic benefit, since women do not work, so she has no value (but to be a household slave).

In our story, the mother in law suffers from the bad memories of her own life as a young bride terribly abused, all the while lashing out at her young daughter-in-law, purposely getting her in trouble with her son, the husband, and beating her. One day, a friend comes to visit, catching her in the act of mistreating her daughter-in-law, and the friend berates her for it, telling the mother-in-law of her own misery having done the same. The friend’s daughter-in-law set herself on fire and killed herself as a result of all the abuse (this is a common occurrence in Afghanistan, I’m aghast to say!), now her son left her and she is all alone. The friend reminds the mother-in-law that she once was a young bride too. Slowly the mother-in-law realizes she is doing the very same that was done to her, and after some struggle, she decides she must and can make a change. In the end there is a reconciliation with the daughter-in-law. They realize standing strong together and supporting each other is a better way of living, and as a result, the son/husband also has a transformation.

To develop the show, we start our young actors off with a simple scenario and let them improvise around it, playing with character and action. They make our job easy as directors, because they are so creative! Of course, they have a lot to learn yet about theatrical presentation and how to make strong, physical choices on stage, but they are impressively adept already. Such clever dialogue, improvised on the spot! And funny little character quirks. In less than two weeks, we have a half-hour play fully developed and ready to go – and it’s amazing how much our work and our actors have grown. Madiya and Hasti who play the two narrators have become a knock-out clown duo. They bring the audience along the journey and provide some comic relief. And they’re really funny! Marzia has really found solid strength in her portrayal of a man. And Rohela is truly an amazing actor – intensely expressive as the mother-in-law, showing both nasty cruelty and vulnerability. Her transformation in the moment of reconciliation with the daughter-in-law is full of so many emotions. It is a very touching scene. (I just can’t believe this young actor is only thirteen years old!)

I am amazed at the talent, skill and dedication of these young performers, most of whom are only 12, 13, 14 years old! There are two girls who are 17 and 19, and then the boys are 16-21. During the course of our work, I forget how young they are, because they are so good, so dedicated and so professional! And they are tackling serious subject matters of family conflict and domestic violence, acting out beatings and abuse. But they are wise beyond their years and fully aware of the problems of their society. And, sad to say, many of the wives for whom this is a reality are only 14 years old (or younger)! Innocence of childhood is shattered early in this country.

I hope Rohela can continue doing theater, and the other girls, too. But the risk is that in a few years they will be married (off) and that will be the end of it. To encourage their families and the community to accept theater as something good, indeed, to show that it is something that can bring income to the family, we are paying the girls (and boys, too) a fee for participating in the workshops and for their work as performers. See, theater brings economic as well as social benefit to the community!

For the first performance, we invite the performer's families and friends as well as all the workshop students. We present the girls' and boys' shows and then we have a certificate ceremony for everyone involved in the workshops. It is great to see the smiles on the parents' faces!

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Creating the Productions in Herat

From Michael:

All is still well as we are finishing up on week three here in Herat. Our adopted parents are still providing us with excellent meals and room to sleep, and our health and morale are good. There has been a slight yet tolerable increase in the fly population, although there is a lovely breeze that has kept them at bay. Unfortunately, it has also brought the dust, much to the chagrin of our laptops.

We have been working on two new productions, which actually start performances next week. Yikes! Well, no, not really “yikes”; it’s all going well with the art, too.

The task has been is to create a show promoting peaceful solutions to violence and oppression – after all, one of our sponsors is the United States Institute for Peace. We have a choice of topics, from the heavy (domestic violence; racial / tribal discrimination) to the light-yet-also-significant: support of democracy, literacy, health and hygiene. There is no easy choice; even a seemingly “no brainer” can be more than it seems.

Take for example: in our last project, in Myanmar, we (along with our local partners) decided to do a show about hand washing—always an important message, especially in tropical climates where germs multiply and spread fast. Okay, so we create this fun show telling kids to wash their hands and head into the schools and monasteries. Well, at one school, post-show, one of the older kids commented: “Thanks for the show; it was good, but we all KNOW we are supposed to wash our hands. They’ve been telling us that for years. The problem is the water doesn’t come out of the pipes and nobody gives us soap!” Oh. So our message should have been directed to the authorities: “Hey! Fix the pipes and give them soap!”

Aside from trying to troubleshoot show topics, there is also the troubleshooting that goes into the staging. Here in Afghanistan, you have probably heard that the gender issues are complex. It is a pretty conservative society, and even though there are many progressive and liberal Afghans, the line of tradition has been drawn deeply in the dry, rocky soil.

In general, the actors and actresses we are working with have no problem working together (without physical contact, that is); sharing dialogue on stage is fine with them. But they know it won’t fly with most religious or government authorities who give or withhold permission to perform. In fact, Simorgh Theatre (our partners here in Herat) face constant opposition from the local conservative forces. But there is one high ranking and respected Mullah firmly on their side. Actually, he was originally a naysayer, until he witnessed one of their performances at a girl’s high school, and he saw the social benefits of issue-related theatre. He even told us in conversation that he would like to see theatre performances brought into the Mosque! Religious stories, of course; think early church morality plays. But for here that’s pretty damn progressive.

Still, in order to maximize our performance possibilities we decided to create two separate shows: one for men by the actors, and one for women by the actresses. Both shows deal with types of domestic violence that are statistically all too prevalent: husbands and fathers abusing wives and children, and mothers-in-law abusing daughters-in-law. (Married women traditionally live with the husband’s family).

The hand-washing show presented a topic fairly easy to communicate physically, without much dialogue. But domestic violence is complex, and we are relying on the playwriting expertise of the Simorgh directors Monireh and Hakim to create the dialogue with input from the performers. Since we Americans are not appearing in the show (taking co-directorship roles) the local language can flow freely.

But here’s a hitch: how can you present family issues when you can’t have male and female actors working together on the same stage?* Hmmmm. To an extent, women can get away with impersonating men, but on the flip side we’ve seen the male actors at the Kabul University theatre department try to impersonate women, and it was a painful, absurd mockery. They couldn’t get away with it even when they were supposed to be funny, and there is nothing funny about our topic. How do we do it?


TO BE CONTINUED!

*Well, in fact we could probably get away with having male actors in performances for women, but we don’t want to condone the double standard.

Haiti Update

On February 16, BST ensemble members Anna Zastrow, Christina Pinnell, and Joshua Wynter got on a plane to Port-au-Prince.  They are kicking off our Haiti project, working with two women's groups KOFAVIV and FAVILEK to use theatre to address the sexual violence in the tent camps.  Support this project here.

Here's what Anna has to say!

Here we are in Haiti, all's well so far. Internet connection not so great.

Friday we had a meeting with Favilek main members about workshops, which went really well and everyone's very excited about working with us. We set up a schedule to do workshops next week (Mon-Fri); one group in the morning and one in the afternoon. After that we will see how to proceed for the following week. The plan at this point is to first do general physical theater workshops, and then proceed to work on their show.

Today we presented our show to Favilek, as a first showing with them as our first audience. It went great, they appeared to really enjoy the show. We had great fun together. At the end, they got up and danced with us! One of the older ladies greeted us with kisses when she arrived, and kissed us as we left. This was sweet and lovely.

Morlon has joined us and yesterday we had a full day of rehearsal.  He's very expressive and creative. And silly!

Saturday we walked through the neighborhood and further on to find a market where we could buy a bucket. We walked all over. It was no problem. Especially with Morlon with us. We had had (or at least I had) the impression that it wasn't really ok to walk down the street, and we really needed a driver. But this was fine. We walked past several camp communities, and past the presidential building that was in ruins.

Tonight there was pre-carnival festivities. We wanted to go out and find another restaurant down the street as opposed to eating at the hotel restaurant. But all the street lights were out, and it was dark, and it really wasn't a good idea to be walking around out there at that point. Which revealed itself to be true, because when we stepped out for a moment, I was confronted by a very aggressive and hostile man. I didn't understand what he was saying, but politely greeted him with a "bon soir" which apparently aggravated him further.

Morlon then made sure to inform us that this man was not a real Haitian man: he was perhaps born in Haiti, but he was not Haitian, because Haitians are very friendly and generous people.

We are doing the workshops at a space a bit farther away, but we can take a taxi, or walk even (we walked all the way back from the space to the hotel, when we checked it out the other day). So we are not using or paying for a driver and car every day. Some days we will need to, though.  (On the other hand, the accommodations are more expensive.)

We are still looking to set up more performances and workshops, and I am in contact with Sinema Anba Zetwal and Solidarite but haven't gotten to meet with them yet. We have not met with Kofaviv yet. We have a full-day workshop planned with Li Li Li on March 2.

That's all for now.

;o]

Anna

Myanmar in May! Part II

Here is the continuation of our experiences in Myanmar in May:

It’s time to get this show on the road! May 15 we embark on a tour to the Mon and Karen States east of Yangon. We are going to perform for children in the monastic schools.


Monasteries run schools for poor children of the neighborhood who cannot afford regular public school (which charges tuition) and for children taken in by the monasteries because they have no parents or their parents are too poor to care for them. Sometimes these kids come from far away remote places and, therefore, live permanently at the monasteries, even those who still have parents. Many parents are away working at the border to Thailand where there is a lot of trade, and the children were living with relatives until they came to the monastery. So, essentially, these children are orphaned. They are “economic orphans” as some have termed it.

* * *

When we first arrived in Myanmar, we were told that our initial plan of doing a tour around Mon and Karen States was not going to be possible due to security concerns with the increasingly sensitive political situation. Just in the past month, the situation has gotten worse with several bombings in Yangon as well as Mon State. The upcoming elections have created a lot of tension.

We are eager to bring our work to as many places as we can, and our Burmese friends were gung-ho to go as well. They know the local authorities well in the particular areas where they had planned for us to travel to and are not worried about getting permissions. (In Myanmar, foreigners, and locals as well, are not able to go just anywhere; you need to receive permission from the authorities, and especially if you wish to do such a thing as perform! Officially, public assembly of more than five persons is prohibited.) The embassy tells us to wait and see until after May 6, which is the deadline for all opposition parties to register for the elections and which might trigger unrest. In the meantime, plan on doing a local tour around the Yangon area. In actuality, what appears to have been a concern is the U.S. State Department visit coinciding with our being here, which could possibly cause friction. But everything goes smoothly and things are calm, so in the end we are informed it is fine to resume our original plan. Yey!

* * *

Off we go in our hired van, all seven of us plus a driver. We leave early in the morning on the 15th and drive all day until finally we arrive in the late afternoon – at the beach! Wow. Nice. Our first stop is the small beach town of Setse (southern Mon State). The plan is to do a show in the early morning in the midst of the market. How fun! Unfortunately, the permission initially given is revoked and we are informed we must leave the area. Because our performance in Setse was nixed, it is deemed prudent to forego performing in the bigger town next door as well, Mawlamyine, because it’s the same regional authority presiding over both, and while we’re at it, it’s best to skip going to Kayin (Karen) state altogether, because of the checkpoint we have go through. Things look a little tense. So it is decided that we will head straight back up to Kyaiktho (pronounced ‘Chai-toe’) and see if we can still do some shows there. I sure hope so!

But first we take a dip in the ocean! Mmmm… it’s warm like bath water! After hot and dusty days in Yangon, and a long drive, it sure is refreshing to be by the sea. And how nice to wake up on the morning of May 16 in a quaint little seaside hotel (ok, a run-down rickety shack) right on the beach on what just happens to be my birthday! Good timing!

* * *

Upon arrival to Kyaiktho after about a four-hour drive, we luckily get the green light to perform. We make our way up a little red dirt road to a small monastery compound. Stories of Buddha on giant placards line part of the way. A monk blows a whistle and after a minute children emerge from all directions, amass and trot off to the performing area, which is on a small hillside under a giant tree. We perform for about 200 children or so and they are a great audience, curious and excited.

After the show, we chat with the Sayadaw (meaning senior monk, or abbot, in Burmese), and Joanna asks him what issues we ought to address in our show, what do the children need to learn? Going to the toilet, says the Sayadaw. Many of the children come from the jungle and just go in the bushes, they need to learn to use the toilet. Unfortunately, I remark to myself, the toilets they have, at least the one I used, are so filthy it would be more hygienic to just go in the bushes! The toilets need to be kept clean if they are to advance good hygiene.

On this note, at another monastery, the Sayadaw affirms the importance of teaching the children to wash their hands but informs us that the children often have no soap to use (and sometimes barely water). Well, not much use preaching hygiene if the elements to facilitate it aren’t provided. So, we are teaching the lesson of the importance of washing one’s hands to the kids, but we apparently also need to teach the lesson (to the adults) of obtaining soap and water! Is soap really that expensive that they cannot afford a few bars? Well, some of the people in these areas can barely afford rice, so I guess in the end they have to make a choice whether to eat or to wash. In the future, perhaps we had better bring soap with us and hand out to the kids as part of the show! But that soap will, of course, only last so long -- I wonder what an effective long-term solution could be for this hygiene dilemma. Something to think about. Any ideas?

Our second day (May 17) we drive to Kayin (Karen) state, after all. The monastery phoned and insisted we come. Apparently, the Sayadaw there is greatly respected and exerts a certain degree of authority. So we are able to perform without a problem. We had a little adventure getting through the checkpoint, which I will not elaborate upon here, except to say we made it safely through, not to worry! The monastery here is a huge compound containing several large school buildings. One of them has a mural on the wall with the Kayin national flag and an inscription in the Kayin language behind a small free-standing blackboard. Many students who come here only speak Kayin (as opposed to Burmese).

The Kayins are an ethnic group that has been embroiled in a fight for autonomy for over sixty years. Sporadic fighting continues and the ongoing insurgency has resulted in thousands of refugees and many orphaned children. Outside of the one main city, Hpa-an, where we are, there is very little infrastructure and limited educational opportunities. Thus, many children are sent to a monastery, such as this one, in order to receive schooling.

We visit another monastery (back in Mon state), very small and very much poorer, and upon arrival I notice a little girl standing in the doorway. I approach to say hello. The other couple of kids around us are curious and spontaneous and playful, as kids are, reacting to my goofiness as can be expected. She is very serious, and her expression does not change. She remains in the doorway, not moving, not reacting. I wonder what has happened to her that she is so sad? During the performance, I keep an eye on her, sitting in the front row, to see what effect the show might have on her, to see if she’ll laugh. Her face lights up in a smile for a moment. I am informed that she is newly arrived from a remote area of Kayin state. Many of the children here come from a mountainous jungle region, which is extremely difficult to access. In order to make their way here, the children have to walk for many hours just to get to the nearest road for transportation. Therefore, the children do not go back during school holiday, they stay here at the school year-round. These are the children we perform for today. (It happens to be summer in Myanmar, so school is out and many children have gone home – most to help their parents work in the rice fields or sell goods). This particular child’s mother had recently died and her father remarried a woman who apparently did not treat her kindly. They left to work at the border, as is quite common, leaving her behind. Finally, she was sent here. She does not speak Burmese, only Kayin. So sad to see her so sad! And I wish we could have stayed longer to play a little more. I hope that our visit lit a little bit of light inside her heart.

While in Kayin state we go to a second monastery as well, a smaller branch of the main one. This one is out in the countryside and we drive for quite a long time. I didn’t realize this when I jumped up in the back of the pick-up truck! It’s a long, bumpy ride in the hot sun. As we drive, I suddenly hear music playing and we come upon a group of kids in the middle of the road who surround our vehicle asking for donations. In return, we get a cold drink. Just what I needed! At the school, we perform inside with all the kids seated on the floor, dressed in sailor-style white and blue school uniforms. By the time we start the show, the room is packed. There are probably four hundred children and adults in attendance. As part of an improvised pre-show, I say hello to the kids and decide to demonstrate my newly acquired expertise in Burmese (How are you, my name is Anna, nice to meet you, etc.) But all I get back are blank stares. It turns out, they don’t speak Burmese! So much for that. Luckily, at lunch I had picked up a few Kayin phrases which I had written down in my little notebook. "Asso lassan!" (Hello! in Kayin, spelled phonetically). This goes over much better. How are you, I continue. Applause! Now we’re talking!

I have so many stories, but this will have to do for now. More may follow later.


All in all we perform at seven monasteries in Mon and Kayin states, one in Bago on the way back to Yangon, and four times in the Yangon area, for a total of almost 3,000 children.

* * *