Overcoming Differences in Kabul

Heddy, our evaluator for the Creativity in Action project, reports from Kabul, where she was inspired by the activities she witnessed and the people she met.  

I'm back in Afghanistan, but just for a very short and productive stay! Driving through the roads of Kabul to get to the BST facility was a jarring awakening. Because I arrived in the afternoon, the city was bustling. The traffic was nuts! A snapshot of the million things I saw as we drove to the office/house: random people and random bicycles fearlessly walking between cars, students holding hands and laughing as they walk home from school, young mothers and fathers with their children, an old man coaching a young man as he prepared a meal on the side of the road, a young boy tossing water out of the doorway of a bakery, and the most heartbreaking--these young street children. They tap on the windows and beg for money, some of them carry these smoking cans that are some kind of incense blessing, I think. 

Overcoming ethnic differences

When I got to the BST facility in Kabul, the house was full of young people. There were 30 youth from 2 different provinces, Badakhshan and Wardak. These two provinces are very different ethnically, linguistically, and culturally. One of the main goals of this project is to bring young people together from different parts of the country, especially from different ethnic groups that have traditionally mistrusted one another. The young people kept saying how happy they were to have met the youth from the other province. Saying things like, 'I used to think that Pashtuns were bad people--now I see they are just like me--they are my friends.' It was inspiring to hear such hopeful words in a place that can feel so hopeless at times.

During the workshop, word came that the Taliban was making gains in Badakhshan. All the parents of the youth from there were urging their kids not to come back right away. All of the youth from Badakhshan made arrangements temporarily to stay with relatives in and around Kabul. But there were a couple boys who didn't have any relatives to stay with. One of the boys from Wardak contacted his family in Kabul and arranged for the boys to stay with them. This may not sound like a big deal--but it IS! The boy from Wardak was saying that he wanted to take what he had learned from the workshop - that people from Badakhshan are good people - and share it with his family. He wanted to change the way that Pashtuns and Tajiks thought about each other, and he would start with his family. He said he knew he would be friends with some of the boys he's met from Badakhshan for the rest of his life.

Connecting with the girls 

I stayed on the third floor with the girls, a couple of whom spoke English, which was fabulous for me since my Dari, while improved, is pretty lousy. They were still impressed that I managed to squeak out a few phrases, bless them. They were very enamored with my hair and my eyes, and I was enamored with how easily they drew me into their fold. The first night was a lot like summer camp, I hung out in their room and we giggled and exchanged basic information...first and foremost, was I married and did I have children? And then of course, why not? (not so different than the US really).

One of the girls told another of the girls (who then repeated it to me), "Heddy is such a good woman. Why she is not a Muslim?" This hit me so hard. This is the question right?! All the struggles we have at home and around the world about who believes the right thing. I was so happy to play a part in sparking this question. The girl who told me this said "I don't think it's about religion. I think we have to start first with humanity." I think I actually felt my heart swell.

The program in action

Seeing the workshops with the two groups was awesome. The workshops are all led by Afghan theatre artists, so lots of theatre and improv/role-playing type activities, but the ultimate goal is to come up with a community improvement project that the youth want to implement back in their hometowns. Once they come up with a plan, they have to write an official proposal and create a budget, and they are then given a small stipend to get their project started. The young women from Badakhshan came up with a plan to create a women's gym, because there really aren't any opportunities for women to participate in any physical activities, sports, or exercise. (I gave them a couple Pilates lessons to add to their regimen.) Some other projects have included things like an education program for street children, city clean-up initiatives, and a domestic violence support group.

Things quieted down a lot after the youth left. I then switched gears to the administrative side of my dissertation research, surveys and such, not as interesting. I've been able to see a bit more of the outside world on this trip. I went with the youth on their field trip day - the national museum, the gutted Darul Aman palace, and Babur Gardens (which date back to the 1500s!). Yesterday we visited a shop inside of a guest house that typically houses people visiting with the big NGO's like World Food Program, UNICEF, etc. We had to go through three security doors and when we finally got through it was like a military compound. There were foreigners lying on the grass and playing basketball. And there was a Japanese restaurant (the tempura was not bad)... it was surreal to say the least. One big bonus of shopping there (in addition to the tempura) was that we didn't have to do all the bargaining and haggling, which always stresses me out. I'm sure we paid more for that convenience though.

The man on the left has been the groundskeeper at the Darul Aman palace since it was built in 1920!

It's been a whirlwind and a great trip. The food is still fabulous, ('teka' kebab is my fav) and the Afghan people I've had the opportunity to meet are incredibly warm and kind. And all very tired of living in a country so broken by war.

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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!

Theatre for Social Change Successes and Challenges from Kakamega, Kenya

Our Fall 2014 intern, Jessy Hodder, is spending the semester in Kakamega, Kenya where she is conducting physical theatre workshops with various groups, from sex workers to street boys. She has been testing out our new theatre for Social Development manual. Here, she describes some of the challenges and successes of a recent training session with sex workers.

I had a very positive meeting this morning with Kakamega's sex workers.  

The first thing that I should note is that, like many places around the world, things are far more challenging than you expect them to be.  Things don't start on time, and the people are not used to open, unstructured spaces.  It took the women some time to get comfortable in a space without desks and chairs.  Having a translator also presented some real challenges.  I was never sure if what I was explaining was being fully understood by all participants.  Things can so easily get lost in translation.  I think that it may be helpful to include notes concerning these kinds of logistics (tips or tricks to help facilitators overcome such difficulties) within the manual. 

Below is a list of the activities that I facilitated and some of the observations that I made.

Spy:  Secret Friends & Enemies

At the beginning of this exercise, the women protested profusely.  They hated the idea that they had to select an "enemy" in the group.  I tried to explain that it was just for the sake of the activity, but they wouldn't have it.  So we changed it to person A and person B:  "Keep person A between you and person B."  I thought this was interesting.  It definitely reinforces the sense of community that is so ingrained here, and indeed the sisterhood of those who suffer on the streets.

Also, the fact that Kenyan women are such touchy-feely people posed a problem.  When I said "go," the women ran to the person that they had chosen as their "friend" (person A) and just stood there hugging them and laughing.  They had completely forgotten about the "enemy" (person B).  They were so loving and supportive that they got caught up in cuddles and disregarded the activity itself.  Because of this, we may want to suggest that, in certain cultural contexts, participants can never touch their friend OR enemy, ensuring that some kind of physical activity takes place.

Calling Over the Mountain 

I explained the importance of our names, especially in contexts where we feel treated like objects.  The women had absolutely no difficulty shouting their names.  They were very loud, and they loved it!  

I added a little something extra to this activity which I thought worked well.  I asked them to imagine that they were standing on a stage in front of the world.  I asked what they would want to say if they were given a single sentence.  They were all eager to share.  Some of them declared their strength or beauty, others testified to their faith or beliefs, and others shouted funny exclamations.  The voices of these women are not often heard, and they loved being able to speak loudly and with conviction. 

Making Group Shapes and Scenes . . . with a Time Limit!

Participants worked in groups of five.  I focused on items that they are very familiar with - the jiko (outdoor stove), nyumbani (house), matatu (bus), and a sofa set.  They really enjoyed using their bodies to represent these items, and they worked well in their teams.  However, because of the stigma against trousers here, the women struggled a little bit with moving around in their long skirts.  I know that this is a challenge in many different areas of the world, but it was definitely something that affected their movement.

A Commercial - Selling Something New

This activity was particularly interesting to me.  I will begin by saying that Kenyans are wonderful public speakers - they have little or no fear of addressing a group.  In fact, they love doing it whenever they get the chance. 

I had tried very hard to explain the word "invention" - an object that doesn't yet exist that would make one's life easier or better.  However, either the word got botched in translation, or the culture is such that they don't think in terms of new objects and gadgets.  Technology is not nearly as prominent here as it is in other places.  Their mindsets are also extremely practical, and they are desperate to make any money that they can to support their children, particularly in terms of school fees.  

When they presented their inventions to the group, almost all of the "inventions" were in the form of possible businesses (basket making, embroidery, selling maize, etc.) that they could set up in the community.  While this was not expected, it attests to their deep desire to become self-sufficient.  We spoke for a while about where they might get the capital to start one of these businesses.  This, of course, is one of their greatest challenges, but we are looking for ways of helping them.

Image Theatre or "Photographs" 

In groups of five, the participants were asked to think of a time when they experienced sadness.  Some of the groups became emotional when telling their stories, and it was great to see the groups counselling and loving one another.  Each story was presented either as an image or as a scene.  The audience was then asked to advise the woman on how to fix or change the situation.  I did not feel that they were ready for foruming the scenes this time around, so they just spoke from their seats.

The stories included:

- A woman was thrown out of her house by her husband.

- The living space of one woman had been thrashed by her landlord.

- One of their children took her school fees and blew it on alcohol and other frivolous items in town.

Unfortunately, we had to stop this activity short.  Two men had entered the room on business, and the women were uncomfortable sharing with them in earshot. 

I concluded the workshop with a self-defense lesson and discussion (30 minutes).  At this point, their bodies were warm and more able to move.  We spoke about precautions that they can take when they are walking along the road at night, and how they might defend themselves if attacked from the front, from the side, and from the back.  They seemed to really appreciate this kind of training.

We sang a good African tune and shared lunch together.  It was a successful session! 

Social Theater in Sudan

In November ensemble member Anna Zastrow spent two weeks working with American Voices on a social theater project. Here is her story.

I am back in New York after an amazing two weeks teaching theater in Sudan. It was an intense, beautiful and profound experience.  I worked with a group of young men and women burning to express themselves creatively within a challenging political and cultural environment.

Quick country background: Sudan is a country in north-east Africa that recently split into Sudan and South Sudan.  Sudan (the North) has been ruled by one regime since 1989, which instituted Sharia law, and has been branded by the U.S. as a sponsor of terrorist organizations.  The country has suffered financial sanctions for over 15 years.  This September the government cut subsidies, prices rose sharply, and the people took to the streets in protest, which regime forces quickly quelled, reportedly resulting in 200 deaths.  It is a somewhat precarious time for Sudan…

Enter our cultural diplomacy program.  For this project I joined American Voices and its YES Academy (Youth Excellence on Stage), a cultural exchange program focused on countries emerging from conflict and isolation.  (Bond Street Theatre and American Voices know each other well, and indeed BST has often referred artists to AV.)  The YES Academy Sudan program was sponsored by the US Embassy and the Sudanese Ministry of Culture.  The program offers training in American cultural forms such as jazz, rap, hip hop and musical theater.  This time they included a social theater component: I was brought on to teach physical theater to university students and children and create a performance piece on a social issue relevant to them.  We had 10 days to hone their skills and to create and publicly perform a theater piece.

This was the first high-profile artistic exchange between the U.S. and Sudan in many years, or perhaps ever – and we were watched closely by the Sudanese government.  They sent a government “minder” to keep an eye on us. His name was Obay. I am not kidding. And he was from the Office of Central Thought.  (You can’t make this stuff up.) In the end, Obay turned out to be an ally who greatly advocated for our program (not everyone in the government was keen on this project).

A representative from the Ministry of Culture also came by to see how things were going.  He seemed genuinely concerned about how the rest of the world views Sudan, and committed that this artistic exchange will have a real influence on improving Sudan’s image and relationship with the U.S.  I’m glad that he values the arts and its potential power! He asked me to tell everyone that everything you heard about Sudan isn’t true.  (They are not terrorists.)   So if you see Obama, be sure to let him know.

For myself, what I value is not the political impact, but the human connection.

I worked with a group of wonderful people and we had a truly beautiful exchange.  Indeed, everyone I met in Khartoum was friendly, hospitable and good-humored. One of the things that touched me about Sudan was how keen the people are to connect with Americans and for us to have a positive view of their country.  I was met with a huge smile and the immediate question: “How do you like Sudan?” and “Why don’t you stay longer?”

The students in my theater group were primarily drama students from the University of Sudan. I was really impressed with them – so talented, expressive and 100% gung-ho. It is so satisfying to teach students who are hungry to learn and who appreciate everything you give them – and who give you all the more in return. Over the course of 10 intensive days, we created a really strong bond.  All the more so because of the sensitive subject matter of our work and the controversy this created.  

We were faced with a challenge:  how create a show in which they can speak out on what matters most to them – social justice, economic opportunity, spiritual fulfillment, freedom to express – without criticizing the government?  I was tasked with doing social theater but under no circumstances to criticize the regime!  But bringing up any social issue can be viewed as criticism.  We cloaked our message in comedy and mime.  But it was still obvious and possibly too obvious.  Concerns were raised by some of our producers about what was safe to say. Despite warnings, the students were adamant to proceed with what they had created.

This was challenging to navigate. I was not sure how serious the situation was going to get. For them or for me. I half-expected an Argo-like escape to the airport at the last minute. On dress rehearsal night rumors floated of possible protests and government-placed fire trucks at the ready to hose us down at any moment. Would we even be able to do the show?

Then, on the day of our actual performance, the whole event was shut down. The imam of the main mosque denounced the event and that’s no small matter in Sudan. After much negotiation between our producers and government representatives, the show was back on again. But all the hold-ups delayed everything and we started late. Our students waited and waited for their turn to present.  Finally they got to go on -- everything was going great -- the audience loved it, they whistled, clapped and laughed in recognition of what was presented -- and then we had to cut their performance short! The authorities mandated the show end at a certain time. I had to physically get up there on stage and stop them. 

The students were devastated. After working so hard for 10 days, after all the build-up and anticipation, they were finally getting to perform and have their say – and then to have the rug pulled from under them!  They were so upset they at first refused to leave the stage and were near ready to riot.  And I was immediately whisked away to the airport for my flight.  I had no chance to talk about what happened or say good bye.  The whole thing was heart-wrenching. I took solace in the few shared hugs that spontaneously erupted as I left – intense and heartfelt -- which affirmed for me that even in the face of this terrible breakdown our bond was not broken. It is hard to explain the mix of emotions of the deeply meaningful exchange that had taken place between us, now cut short.

I have since been in communication with them. They are in good spirits and ready to perform the piece again elsewhere.  They sent me the following message: “We are artists and we are strong; we have a message to tell the world and you have shown us how to give it out. . . We will never be able to thank you for the knowledge and time you gave us.” 

This was truly one of the most rewarding experiences I’ve had teaching and traveling abroad, and trying to make a difference in the world.  It’s been a privilege to experience Sudan and its people, and to get to work with these beautiful and talented individuals.  I hope to be able to come back soon again.  And next time I will stay longer.

To see photos, click here:  YES Sudan - Highlights

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!

Why We Can't "Fix It"

Joanna received this note from an NYU student following her Power of Performance: Theatre in War Zones talk at Gallatin on February 11.

Dear Joanna,

I attended your talk at NYU Gallatin a few weeks ago, and meant to write to you the same night, but it turns out I needed a bit more time to process my thoughts.

For some background, I am an NYU Abu Dhabi student, originally from Vermont. I am a theater major who is still trying to figure out my direction, though I have dabbled in playwrighting, directing, lighting, and stage management. I love theater, and I love creating, but I am really passionate about how theater can be used as a tool for communication, healing, and understanding, both at home and abroad.

I have traveled to Nepal, Oman, the United Arab Emirates, and, most notably for me, India. I visited those places for various reasons – primarily tourism and volunteering.

Although that isn't quite the right word. Because it wasn't volunteering in the sense of “oh, lets go into a place and 'fix it,'” – not, “lets go somewhere and bring our superior knowledge, and implement our ways.”  Instead, it was, “I want to go somewhere, and collaborate, and learn, and assist where I can and be quiet and observe when I can’t.” We ended up working on a one-room health center for the town, located right next to one of the main preschools, because the nurse had been working out of the back of her home – something she knew wasn't good for her family or her patients.

I feel like I learned much more than I gave on that trip, and it gave me a lens with which to view travel and work abroad. Coming into your talk, I was honestly a bit worried – worried this would be another case of people who thought they knew best, trying to go into a place and “fix it.”

Instead, what you spoke about was a group of collaborators who understood what it was like to travel, to be inspired, and to create. I respected how you spoke about your experiences so much, and left inspired and thankful that there are groups who treat theater and travel in such a human way.

What struck me first was when you questioned the use of the word empowerment – because you are absolutely right – the people you work with already have power, and you are just providing tools and a safe space to speak and create. You also spoke about working with artists, about using theater for education, and for healing. How theater can get ideas across when words fail us, as they so often do.

Then you talked about building a relationship – not just going in and leaving. That is what haunts me about my trip to India – I promised I would return, and have not yet filled that promise, although my high school has brought other groups back, which is comforting.

I respected this discussion so much, and I left motivated – and I thank you for that.

Thank you again for the work that you do – it is much after my own heart.

-Brook
NYU Abu Dhabi Class of 2015

Theatre of Ideas

Our wonderful Design and Management Intern Chris DeFilipp of Bennington College sums up his BST internship experience.

When I joined Bond Street at the start of January, I never expected to have accomplished and learned so much in the six weeks I’d be interning here. But here I am, five and a half weeks later, with only three days left before I leave Bond Street and New York City to head back to Bennington College for my spring term, and I have to say, I’m really going to miss this place. I can safely say that Bond Street will be an experience I’ll never forget--nor would I want to.

Last night, Joanna spoke at NYU Gallatin on the Power of Performance: Theatre in War Zones, and I had the opportunity to sit in on her lecture. It acted as a sort of closure for my internship, as many of Joanna’s stories were summarized and contextualized that evening. Stories I’d been told weeks prior were used to emphasize her points, and the whole talk wrapped up my internship perfectly. Her talk discussed the history and process of Bond Street, focusing particularly on the importance of physical and intellectual communication, with the physical communication of theatre allowing intellectual communication, the transfer of ideas between the performer and the audience, to be possible across many different barriers.

One of the many things that stuck with me was Joanna’s tale of the traumatized children in the refugee camps. They did not speak or understand English, so Joanna communicated with them through activities such as “follow-the-leader”. Through solely physical communication, the children were able to participate in activities, and those who were traumatized had the chance to come out of their shells--and eventually did so, at their own pace. Her story made me think about how physicality can manifest itself in theatre as a way to communicate ideas, and to involve an audience--both intentional and unintentional--in the experience. I realized how theatre from all regions can still have an impact no matter the audience--it’s not the language that we’re communicating in, but the way in which we’re physically communicating, the way we’re acting it out, designing the space and the world, that makes theatre a language of its own.

However, I think Joanna ultimately spoke to a much larger point, a point that encompasses this physicality of theatre and goes beyond it: that ideas can be communicated through the physical means of theatre. There may be a verbal or musical aspect, and the tone may vary from tragedy to comedy to anything in between, but for the most part, the main goal of theatre is to communicate and address, through a physical staging of a script or other dramatic material, certain ideas and opinions. For Bond Street, these ideas are typically issues that the groups they work with want to address, but for me these ideas are of science, mythology, literature, art, and of fields of thought that the audience may not be aware of. I feel that any story, even a love story, murder-mystery, or drama, can offer an audience more if it offers some sort of intellectual nugget of information they may not have known or thought about before. This is one of the things working with Bond Street has helped me to fully realize: that using theatre to communicate ideas is, in fact, very effective, and can help to offer more than just entertainment or knowledge to an audience.  It can offer a new way of thinking about the world around us.

Bhopal: Play Review

Our intrepid intern Henry Moorhead reviews the US production of Bhopal, and outlines his hopes for audiences around the globe.

On the 18^th of November in New Brunswick NJ, Epic Actors’ Workshop and Bond Street Theatre merged to create a play on the effect of this catastrophic disaster of Bhopal.  The play tells the story of December 3^rd 1984, when a pesticide plant exploded in Bhopal, India, leaking over 40 tons of methyl isocyanine gas and killing over 2,000 people instantly and many more as the toxins reached the human bodies.  Years later children were born deformed or physically impaired due to the direct impact of this tragic disaster.  Today the effects are still felt, and Bhopal demonstrates the level of impact one incident can have on the entire world. 

The play opens as the police in Bhopal try to convince Dr. Sonya Labonté (played by Anna Zastrow) to leave the slums of Bhopal and go back to her native Canada.  The relationship that Dr. Labonté develops with her patients (women in the slums of Bhopal) is so authentic, it shows the reality of what it was like during the disaster.  Ms. Zastrow lights up the stage with her captivating presence as she tends to the women who have suffered. 

The chorus (who play the woman of Bhopal) represents the essence of the world in Bhopal. The physical and vocal choices they make pull the audience in closer and allow the piece to build.  They demonstrate the core of the play, as they are the ones who are affected the most.   

Jaganlal Bhandari, Chief Minister of State in Bhopal (played by Sajal Mukherjee), dives deep into his character as a misguided and corrupt driven man and creates conflict with his stubborn views. 

Throughout the play the themes, dialog, and interactions exemplify how difficult it is for first world counties like the United States and third world countries like India to work together. Given the laws, culture, and methods of operating are so different; it takes immense effort and perseverance to make an impact individually.  Dr. Labonté epitomizes this on many levels.  As the play deals with such heart wrenching and severe issues, the moments of comic relief heighten the essence of the play.  For example, Pescale Suavé (played by Shai Lendra Khurana) retorts, “There are so many laws, it is impossible not to break a few.”  The audience chuckles and it gives them a chance to relax. 

After premiering in New Jersey in the United States, Bond Street takes Bhopal across the globe to tour in Nepal and India.  I hope the audience comes away how essential it is to make sure the necessary precautions are set in order to prevent future environmental catastrophes from happening.  Bhopal is a prime example of a play that continues Bond Street’s mission of “Creating Peace Through Theatre.”

Hopefully, a Chorus Line: The 'Bhopal' Tour

Ilanna left today with the ensemble to tour 'Bhopal' to three festivals in India and Nepal.  She is the Chorus Leader and choreographer, and writes about her thoughts, concerns, and excitement about introducing new Chorus members during the tour!

Birsa, one of my fellow chorus members in Bhopal (and the only other chorus member to be embarking on our upcoming India and Nepal tour), asked it most succinctly when he looked at me after our show at the South Asian Theater Festival, a bit bewildered, and asked, “How are we going to train new chorus members in a couple hours what took us two months to learn?”

Ilanna rehearses with the rest of the cast in New Jersey.

Feeling optimistic (and hoping to appear so to appease his worried glance), I casually replied, “Don’t worry! It took us a month and three weeks to figure out what we were doing, and only about a week to internalize it and make it look flawless!” This statement is more true than false, but I wouldn’t go so far as to say it’s 100% truthful. 

I am concerned about how we will transpose the images that we spent weeks creating to a new stage, with a new group of chorus members, but I’m not losing sleep over it. Birsa and I know the play and the chorus’s parts so well now. Much of the trickiness comes from timing -- when’s the exact moment the chorus enters (in the light? or at the whistle sound cue?), when do we take a step as a group (are we following the leader? or waiting for the word “no”?), how many seconds do we count before we break our held poses (I know this one... it’s 8). 

Between the two of us, I think we will be able to direct traffic well. What we don't have quite enough time to perfectly teach, the chorus will pick up by our example.  Joanna, the director, has the chorus doing a series of repetitive movements throughout the play that are simple to teach and easy to learn.  The beauty and impact for the audience comes from the simplicity, timing, and group mentality of our actions. I feel confident that once we teach our new chorus members the actions, they will effortlessly find their places onstage, and find their own ways to influence how we tell this story.

Above all, I am so excited to be interacting with new actors in each location we will be touring to. How exciting to get to meet local actors at each festival, who jump in and become part of a bigger story! I am looking forward to meeting our newest collaborators, who will add to our story and enrich our experience. 

How Do You Get to Jalalabad?

All still well in Kabul.  Most of our time is spent in the hotel these days, writing reports and working on the Training Manual, but we've had at least one important meeting each day; at the Embassy, the US Institute for Peace, the Theatre Department at the University...

We'll be doing some follow-up training with the Kabul theatre artists, and lots more meetings before heading back on the 5th.  In the mean time, should any of you be wondering what the heck we actually DO with these actors, I decided to detail one of the exercises to give you a backstage look.

How do you get to Jalalabad?

This is based on a little remembered Abbot and Costello routine from one of their old TV shows.  Kudo's to John Towsen for calling my attention to it about 15 years ago (and a shout out to our peeps currently playing in the NY Clown Theatre Festival):

Costello is on the street waiting for Abbott to return.  A women approaches him and asks:
(the dialogue is to the best of my memory)

Woman:  Excuse me, can you tell me how to get to the public library?

Costello:  I'm sorry, I don't know where the public library is.

Woman: Oh, well, if you go down Main Street and make a left at the corner go to the end of the street and make a right and...

Costello (confused): What a minute, wait a minute... I didn't ask you, you asked me.

Woman: I asked you what?

Costello: How do you get to the public library?

Woman: That's what I'm telling you! Go down Main Street and make a left at the corner go to the end of the street and make a right and....

Costello:  Wait a minute, Lady! I don't care about the public library!

Woman:  (Angry) Then what are wasting my time for? Who do you think you are bothering poor innocent young women on the street, you fat little potato!  I should call the police!  You are nothing but a masher!  (she smacks him with her purse and storms away).

Costello:  (completely bewildered) I'm a mashed potato!?!

Abbott: (walking up) Who was she?  What did she ask you?

Costello:  How do you get to the public library?

Abbott: Oh, well if you go down Main Street and make a left at the corner...

Costello runs off screaming.

It's a completely absurd bit, and one of the reasons we decided to do it was to get the actors to play "outside-the-box".   Also, it's vaudeville!  It's my roots.

Joanna and I would do the routine in English, with our translator translating line by line.  Since there aren't many public libraries around, we use "Jalalabad" instead.  Also, we dropped the masher / mashed
potato joke, as the pun never worked in translation (and they don't have mashed potatoes here).

Even with the awkward English/Dari or English/Pashto presentation, the actors understood the comedy immediately and always laughed.

For a simple, silly little bit it was a challenge for them to duplicate it.  They, of course, would do it in their own language.  Because the structure is so tight, we always knew what they were saying, or supposed to be saying.  But it would take about 15 - 20 minutes for them to get the structure correct: who entered when, who was asking what and who got angry at which time, and who stormed off when.

We would rotate everyone through the different parts, focusing on the subtle comic timings:  "Costello's" confusion, then annoyance, then really confused post-assault, then the build to completely losing it as "Abbott" starts to give him directions again.  The Stranger (does not have to be a woman) is absurdly matter-of-fact until they get to yell at Costello about how wonderful Jalalabad is: "what do you mean you don't care about Jalalabad! My mother lives in Jalalabad!..." etc.  A chance for the actor to improvise.

Some caught on faster than others.  A few never caught on at all, causing as much confusion and laughter as the routine itself.  Thing is, they all LOVE this exercise.  As far as I can tell from all the years of watching Afghan theatre, while they do comedy, they don't do absurdity, and maybe that newness has appeal.

They loved the bit so much they wanted to keep doing it, and we had to come up with "as if" variations:  same dialogue, but  doing it as if the characters are spies, or martial artists, or singing opera, or suddenly in love, etc.

Even months later, when I would see one of the actors again, they might catch my eye just the right way and say, in halting English (which they might not actually speak):  "Michael, how you get Jalalabad?" and we would launch into the routine in half English, half Dari, clearly playing the parts in the language of theatre.

A Picture is Worth 1,000 Words

An update from Michael on the road from Jalalabad to Kabul.

             On our otherwise uneventful drive back to Kabul from Jalalabad we were stopped by the police at the Kabul city checkpoint.  We had passed a number of checkpoints on the way, but this was the only one that stopped us.   We had to pull over.  A portly, unfriendly looking policeman opened the van door and stared at me in a menacing way, or perhaps it was just his "I-Mean-Business" look which can be similar to a "Menacing Look" but should have important subtle differences if you are a well trained actor which I doubted he was.   I stared back in my "slightly-bored-can-I-help-you?" look but, being a trained actor, I colored it with just a hint of submission as that tends to move things along positively with these brutes.

            He barked to our guide, AZ, that he wanted to see our passports, which we happily supplied.  Then he started asking to look through our bags.   "There, that bag, and that bag! What is there?"  "It's fruit! You can see it is fruit!" AZ barked back.  I didn't understand what he was saying exactly, but clearly there was no love and respect.  When confronted by busy-body authority, many Afghans turn belligerent.  I never understood why, as it usually leads to more delays and chest-thumping.

            Now the policeman wants to look at our pile of luggage stacked in the back of the van.  Knowing that our workshop bag is topmost (excellent!) I have Joanna hand me the little portfolio we have containing photos of our work, for just such an occasion.  AZ later told me that on our way to the back of the van the policeman was asking him, "Why are you working with these Americans?  They make films that disrespect our religion!  Are you helping them make films?!"   AZ  said, "No! They are not making films, they are good people, what's wrong with you?"

            I'm not sure what he expected to find when he opened the first duffel bag; maybe he thought it would be film equipment, porn magazines, and fuel to burn the Holy Book, or maybe just a cache of weapons.  He sure wasn't expecting what he did find, which was three pair of stilts and juggling equipment.  His look of menace became one of confusion.  I helpfully showed him the pictures of us on our stilts in costumes, with the crowds of happy children, and our workshops with the Afghan actors.  "See?!" AZ was saying, "They are our teachers! They are good people, they are helping us!" ("You stupid cow", he added -- not with words but with inflection.  AZ is a trained actor, after all).

            There was more talk between them, and the cop softened, as they usually do after seeing the portfolio and the pictures of happy children.  He actually shook my hand and casually embraced AZ.   I don't think he was totally convinced of our innocence, but he let us go without further delay.

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,