Week Five: Jaipur

Our fifth and final week in India was for discussion and reflection about the entire Arts Exchange program. It was bittersweet, philosophical and concise.

After a one-night stopover in Delhi (Reena saw her family finally!) we got on a bus and took a 7-hour trip to Jaipur. It was such a long ride and the bus was jam-packed with both people and mosquitos, Reena’s mother sweetened the experience with some tasty desert she’d sent along with her daughter.

On Subhash’s recommendation we stayed at the Anuraag Villa Hotel in the Bani Park section of Jaipur. I can’t recommend it enough to anyone who is going to Jaipur. The rooms were cool and clean and the ceilings tall, painted with the same floral design as the Taj Mahal. It was a beautiful place and perfect for our closing evaluation retreat.

For our meetings, we sat out in the backyard to eat and talk about what we had learned.

For example, Joanna asked, what can we do to insure that this program continues? If it continues, what will it look like? What worked and what could we make even better?

We envisioned taking our “model” program on a tour of the three countries – to Afghanistan, to the US, and back to India. We wrote down the nuts and bolts of our workshop approach, including descriptions of 38 favorite exercises out of the many theater games we shared with each other. We also considered what sort of performance we would like to create next time and how a new show would be possible if we wrote it before the Exchange began, and how could it best reflect current affairs in each country rather than addressing a generic problem.

The sessions yielded 26 pages of notes and a deeper understanding of what it is the three companies have created together.

Aside from these intensely focused discussions, we spent time enjoying each other’s company knowing the end was near. This included tooling around Jaipur and taking one final outstanding trip together to see the Taj Mahal. Yep. It is beautiful.

It was a great surprise in the last days to meet a new extraordinary friend: Rajesh Chauhan, an associate of Ali and Shafiq at the BBC. He was quite simply the Idealest Host Ever. He helped us get our equipment to the airport, getting Ali’s flight back home, and sat and talked with us just cause he is a true believer in hospitality and making visitors welcome. The most touching thing he did was that once he heard about our Lucknow mission to go dancing, he devised a grand plan to take us out before we returned to New York.

Part one of the plan was to treat us to an amazing dinner – our last in India.
Part two was to visit a disco on the way to the airport so we could part ways dancing! Unfortunately, the timing didn’t work out and we ended up having to drop Ali, Jamil, and Rajesh off at the disco and speed directly on to the airport. But the gesture was unforgettable. On the way there, Ali and I sang through the one of our favorite songs once more. It translated, “Where ever I went, you were with me, my love.”

As we left I smiled knowing that sentiment will remain true for all of us on this Arts Exchange. Wherever we go, we will be in each other’s hearts.

We have succeeded in all aspects of what the Arts Exchange set out to do – we have built intense international bonds, exchanged a wealth of artistic practices, proven that theatre crosses boundaries of language and culture with grace and ease, and used our craft to bring laughter and self-expression to thousands of people across India. And we helped to stimulate the minds and imaginations of some of India’s most impoverished populations!

As a very unlikely three-country team, I think we inspired people most through our easy rapport and mutual enjoyment of each other… despite differences in language, religion, world-view, gender, and nationality. Our work together for a greater good – making the world a little happier – allowed us to breathe as one, and be a true team.

Our deepest thanks to all our creative team members in this venture:
Afghans: Jamil Royesh, Shafiq Hakimi, Ahmad Ali Fakri, Zia Murad;
US: Joanna Sherman, Michael McGuigan, Jenny Romaine, Sarah Peters, Meghan Frank;
Indians: Subhash Rawat, Lokesh Jain, Reena Mishra, Shashanta and Bhaswati Mukhopadhyay.
And to our very own State Department (via the Bureau of Educational and Cultural Affairs) to believe that theatre is a valuable means to cross-cultural understanding.

Week 4: Kashmir (click here for photos)

Reena took her very first airplane trip with all of us to a place she’s only seen in movies Kashmir! She woke up a half hour before the alarm clock - at 4 in the morning – because she was so excited. It was exciting for us to watch her as the plane climbed into the sky.

Here’s a brief synopsis of our travel day:

Load 12 bags into the car
Unload 12 bags out of the car onto carts
Load 12 bags onto x-ray machine
Unload 12 bags off the x-ray machine onto carts
Load the 12 bags at the ticket counter
Unload the 12 bags in Delhi onto a cart
Load 12 bags
Unload 12 bags
Load
Unload
Load
Unload into… THE UNIVERSAL HOTEL!

Joanna said that on every tour she’s been on, no matter how long, there’s a tough spot for the group just past the middle. Then everyone realizes their time together is running out and any troubles seem to be not such a big deal. The journey to the state of Jammu and Kashmir as counted as that time for us, and it wasn’t too bad.

This week I could say we have certainly become friends. My proof is the story of “Green, Blue, Push!”

We had a ridiculous laugh moment together in the Srinagar airport when Ali was telling us about his colored contacts, and Reena plowed the luggage buggy into his ankle. (Reena was pushing a luggage buggy, yes, for the first time in her life.) Then she laughed about it maniacally “Green, blue, Push! Ha ha ha ha ha.” All the way into the town of Anantnag – “Green, blue,

Push! Ha ha ha ha ha.” She was like a demonic little sister, with Ali the resigned big brother.

So the Universal Hotel was not what any of us were expecting. We all stood with our arms crossed, breathing in the exhaust fumes from the repair garage that was in the lobby of the Universal Hotel, contemplating how the lack of lights and hot water would be through the cold Anantnag night, and wondering how it could be that this was the only hotel available in whole city. This was when Reena tried to get a laugh, by repeating “Green, Blue Push! Ha ha ha hah…” And everyone just looked at her. Not even a peep of laughter. Perfect awkwardness. What a grumpy moment! I thought, this is it for sure. The rough spot. Yep, this is it.

We bucked up. And the hotel was fine. Hot water worked in enough rooms, the blankets were warm, and we ate dinner laughing once again at “Green, blue, Push! Ha ha ha!”
Next day we did a demo performance, if you will, for the principal of the Government Degree College for Women, some of the college’s students, some students from a near-by elementary school and our hosts, Mr. Nabi and Mr. Shabir. They all had a truly enthusiastic reaction to our show. After, the teacher from the Froebel Elementary School gave a particularly inspiring speech about theater’s power to bring peace because it requires teamwork, and here we had people from such diverse countries working together! (I feel equally impressed by this fact every day.)

But then, how do I describe “The explosion of Mr. Nabi?” I must begin by saying I wasn’t actually in the room when it happened. And in retrospect, everything ended up being totally fine. But I think it’s important to describe this moment of misunderstanding – a potential whenever several cultures come together, even for peaceful reasons.

Essentially Mr. Nabi wanted us to do another show at the college in order to interest the students in our workshop, but Joanna tried to explain we prefer to do shows for an audience that includes both adults and young children (as opposed to just a group of adults). There were a lot of raised voices from our hosts, and back and forth attempts at explanation on the topic until Mr. Nabi stormed out of the room in offense, leaving Joanna and Subhash in the room wondering what to do next. I believe Subhash worked as the peace-maker/interpreter with Joanna as the calmer/explainer when Mr. Nabi eventually came back into the room - we agreed to do the college show, they agreed to bring over more children, and it ended up being a great success in sharing with these young women a show designed to target both children and adults together.

So I thought oh, that was it. That was the “challenging” moment. It wasn’t too bad.
We got a tip from a friend of Mr. Shabir: Go to Pahalgam. It is a beautiful town up in the mountains with many hotels. So we went! Like explorers, packed the car and headed to the mountains.
We followed the road along the rushing Lidder river, up and up into the cold, snow-capped mountains. In Pahalgam we were greeted by a crowd of running young men whose job it was to get newly arrived tourists into their hotels.

This was when I had my own personal breakdown. Our desire to get on the road, beat the sunset and find a new hotel meant that we didn’t get a chance to eat beyond the early morning meal, and I was unprepared with any packable snack. The result? As we carried our 12 bags into the Paradise Hotel at around 9 pm I cried. Like a baby. Hungry, tired, worn out by all the debate, I broke. I felt totally embarrassed. And in this moment, Joanna came to my side and let me know it was ok and told me she was glad I had been a trooper. Ali also said, with tears juuust peaking out of his eyes, “Sarah you can’t cry. You have too many friends, and you are older. If you cry, what will I do?” This, and a plate of navratan korma, calmed me down.

And that was it. I can look back now and say, that was my most personally challenging moment. And – not so bad!

Into the week of workshops - one at the Froebel School, and one at the Women’s College. It took an hour to come down from the mountain every day, which was a beautiful background for our daily workshop planning sessions.

Our workshops this week gave the college women a new format in which to express themselves, and we hope that both the teachers at the elementary school and the college students will consider theater an educational tool they can use in the future.

Our final performance of this week, and the final performance of the tour, was very special. We heard rumors of a town that had seen a terrible massacre in the year 2000 and thought this might be a healing place to do our show. It turned out that in fact Mr. Nabi was from this area. So he took the steps to arrange a performance. By sheer chance we performed on the anniversary, March 20, of the massacre of 3 Sikh men by militants in the area. People often refer to Kashmir as “heaven on earth” because of its beautiful natural resources. But it in this village after the show that Dr. Mohammad Amin Malik, the head of the political science department at the College for Women, explained that in fact Kashmir is heaven on earth because people with such diverse beliefs have lived in peace – for much longer then the recent conflicts. The people we met in Kashmir want this to be why their state is known around the world.

Other Bits: Many people pointed out that Ali and Jamil could easily be mistaken for Kashmiris.

The dogs of night – defending their dog territory, playing their dog games to stay warm, and then sleeping the day away.

Reena always says “No ‘thanks,’ no ‘sorry’ between friends.” The result of this viewpoint is that when I say thank you, she says, “Oooh no, no, no!” or “It’s NO problem!” One morning she said to me, “Thank you, Ooh, sorry! OOOH!! NO ‘THANKS’ NO ‘SORRY’ BETWEEN FRIENDS!” Ha!

Every day the pashmina sales men met us at the car before we left.
I think of men in matching coats with beautiful faces when I think of Kashmir.Another first for Reena: snow! – the Delhi girl froze the week away and counted down the days until she’d be back in her warm home.

We left Anantnag on Friday - Eid! - which meant we drove through four parades on our way down the mountain. We even became a part of one of the parades, as the chanting, celebrating men jumped up on our slow-moving jeep. 

Week Three: Lucknow (click here for photos)

Before our week’s work of artistic ambassadorship began, Ali and I wanted to go dancing! The Sunday night air was filled with the sound of parties that we wished we were at. Instead we took a bicycle rickshaw to the only disco in Lucknow. Ali says in Kabul, everyone is indoors by 7 pm because of the situation there. So he was super-enjoying the 10 o’clock adventure where the disco was cheese and we were mice in a Hindi maze. One bicycle rickshaw, 1 auto rickshaw, and several dead ends later, we were on the top floor of a mall – coulda been New Jersey! – including walking through the door that said “members and couples only” into an overpriced and completely empty club. No matter. We danced like superstars in a music video. Despite his lack of nightlife, Ali is a fantastic dancer.

New week, new set of workshops, this time for girls age 7 to 14 at the Prerna School, a school for the poorest girls (the daughters of rickshaw drivers, beggars, ragpickers and the like) created five years ago by Urvashi Sahni, a woman whose capacity to inspire is reflected in the eyes of both her students and the teachers who work for her.

The Prerna school is housed within a private school for middle-class families called the Study Hall Foundation. The girls who attend Prerna pay a nominal fee because their education is subsidized by the families of the wealthier students: they give a bit more than the cost of their own child’s education to support Prerna. These young girls were an inspiration, many taking education into their own young hands and putting themselves into the school without any support from their families.

As for performances, we did four shows this week – one for the Prerna Foundation girls, a show for disabled children at SPARC, a performance in a Lucknow slum called Balu Adda, and another rural village performance in a place called Mishrapur. The most memorable was the performance in Balu Adda.

Not far at all from the Prerna Foundation, we turned into a vast landscape of dwellings constructed from tarps, hay, and pieces of plastic built amidst mounds of garbage and plastic bottles. How do people live here? How will they like our play? I wondered. What will it mean to them? There was a huge crowd. Somewhere around 450 people. As the show began, looks of curiosity became smiles and laughs, for the kids and adults alike. And when it was all done, I had a group of small-sized followers looking for more fun. One little girl in particular developed a new version of tag I guess you’d call “punch the pillow butt and run.” She’d laugh which would make me laugh and then the other kids would laugh. Amazement all around.

This was the dirtiest of all places I’ve ever been, and we rolled in and did a show and rolled out. This show is memorable to me for what we are able to do and what we are unable to do, both made visible in the extreme conditions of these people’s lives. What is it that we do? We give an hour of intrigue and laughter. Laughter! It improves the immune system, stimulates neural connection, and instigates smiles (the glue of humanity). But to see that, without fresh water and basic hygiene, simple cuts fester and easily treatable conditions worsen, made us all aware of our limits.

The unofficial theme of this week was the state of women in India, which kept coming up from many different people. If I ever identified myself as post-feminist, in India I have been quite clearly asked to question my assumptions about women’s level of equality. “Indian food is designed to torture the woman,” said one of the reporters who came to interview us. She spoke of how she is ready to change careers and location now that her daughter is going to college so she can have a life that doesn’t include tending a pot of food that cooks for hours. She was being funny about it – but it is true in the US I have food that can be made pretty quickly. What a simple luxury.

And then there was the night Urvashi gave accounts of 15 year-olds being married off to men in their 50s. It is more like buying a servant, and not what I have been raised to think of as marriage. The last day at Prerna, she invited the first graduating class to tell us about their opinions and experiences. The girls stood there and said they didn’t know anyone who has a happy marriage. “Many women are single women living on their own despite being married!” said Urvashi.

My friend and co-worker Reena later that night said, “my father hopes to get a lot of money for my sister and I. I don’t like marriage. I focus on what I can control, which is my profession.” She has a passion to work with disabled children and a hope for a good marriage, but not any control over whom she will marry. I imagined the unpleasant pressure of having to command a high price.

I made friends with the assistant manager of the hotel where we stayed and even she brought up the topic, saying for many, if a women doesn't do all the housework, the marriage is over.

Despite these realities, because of them, women here have astounding determination. The Prerna girls work 5+ jobs to support their families, AND put themselves into the school. The young women who have been there all five years said their parents definitely treat them differently as a result. Now that they have received education, the parents don’t dismiss their daughter’s comments and opinions as easily. They listen a bit more. This girl has been to school, she knows a bit more than before!

And my favorite moment all week was when one of the older Prerna students bravely (it seemed brave to me) asked Jamil if he makes his wife and sisters cover their face in Afghanistan. He said it is their choice whether they do or not. Then Urvashi asked why is it that Muslim men can marry 4 wives, but women can’t have 4 husbands. He didn’t know and the girls swapped exasperated looks. As we left Jamil told Urvashi he would like to come back to Prerna Foundation and when he does, he said, “I will have an answer.” Because those young women will definitely be asking!

Other Bits: Over the course of two weeks of driving to workshops, we have developed “Ali’s favorite jump” and “Sarah’s favorite left turn;” Our driver, Raju, gamely would speed up the car to fly over “Ali’s favorite jump;” Ali has a secret sign for beer! (taboo in Afghanistan… but available). We haven’t met them yet, but Mr. Nabi and Mr. Shabir (our Kashmir hosts) have become a daily presence in our lives with the planning for next week’s trip. We made a visit to Waris Alisha, a memorial to a Sufi profit who symbolizes, says our friend Adyog, peace between religions. In this temple, both Muslims and Hindus – anyone – is welcome to pray; I can’t say precisely why but we all felt a deep bond with the young women of Dewa. We had a certificate presentation ceremony with singing and snacks that was emotional for everyone. I will miss them very much.

Week One: Delhi (click here for photos)

I will begin by introducing myself. My name is Sarah Peters and I am finishing my graduate degree from Dell’Arte International School of Physical Theater in California. I came to New York to intern with Bond Street because like many, many people, I was impressed and inspired by their work in social humanitarian theater.

This is both my first tour with Bond Street and my first visit to India, so as you can imagine, my excitement level is pretty much through the roof.

This final installment of the International Arts Exchange (the culmination of this three-year project) began in the city of Delhi. This is where we would both rehearse our show and teach theater workshops.
The team includes me along with Artistic Director Joanna Sherman and Managing Director Michael McGuigan from Bond Street of the US. Then there is Jamil Royesh, Shafiq Hakimi, and Ahmad Ali Fakhr (he goes by Ali!) from Exile Theater in Kabul, Afghanistan. And finally, there is Reena Mishra and Founding Artistic Director Subash Rawat and from Purvabhyas Theater of Delhi, India.

We have all come together to collaborate artistically, to train teachers and other trainers in “social theatre” techniques, and to provide theatre-based programs to disadvantaged children and youth, as Joanna says, to “encourage self-expression, creative thinking, and teamwork.”
I am particularly proud to be a part of this international collaboration because it is funded by the Bureau of Educational and Cultural Affairs of the US Department of State. Art exchange has the greatest potential of bringing people together. Art is an act of love and it is with great joy that people share music, theater and educational practices. This funding of a creative exchange is an important counterbalance to more violent actions my government is taking elsewhere. So my job here is to perform and teach, but always with an eye toward building friendship and understanding between our three countries – US, Afghanistan, and India.

We leapt right into it with rehearsals and workshops. We did three days of workshops for a group that included young women from Janki Devi Memorial College and young men from Jamia Millia Islamia University. Our host at Janki Devi, Deepali Bhanot was very enthusiastic about what we taught the students, which ranged from physical expression to stilt-walking to image-based theater techniques. The students were even more enthusiastic with their enjoyment and appreciation. We also did four days of training with young girls at an amazing organization called Project HOPE which aids children and families in the Nizamuddin neighborhood– a very poor Muslim community in Delhi.

As explained by Director Selvi Roy, many of the girls in this program are not allowed by their families to attend school outside the neighborhood, so HOPE has created education within the neighborhood. The program began as only a few hours of study a day which expanded to educate children and adults all day and even into the night. At night, HOPE provides food, shelter and education to young children who come to the Delhi to work and have no families. HOPE has even helped the children organize banking among themselves since normal banks won’t allow minors to open accounts.

The girls of HOPE were bright, smart, playful girls who over the course of four days bravely tried things they’d never done before.

Simultaneously, in the mornings, we rehearsed and updated our play “A Kite’s Tale” which was originally created with Exile Theater in 2005. Our Afghan collaborators had unexpected trouble getting a flight to Delhi and were not able to arrive until Wednesday night! But there was plenty to work on until they arrived as both Reena and I were new to the show.

“A Kite’s Tale” is designed to bring laughs to children and families and it includes music, stilts and silliness to tell the story of 4 children trying to reclaim their playground from an underhanded developer. The message may be more about the idea of actors from three countries working together as much as it’s about the children teaming up to achieve their goal.

Our first performance was a great success! About 300 people from the Nizamuddin neighborhood showed up to watch and laugh and be totally amazed that something so interesting and new should come to their part of Delhi.It was especially exciting to get the show on its feet, since our short rehearsal time was unexpectedly cut even shorter. The Afghans, after struggling to get to Delhi, had to go register the morning of the performance with the foreign registry office. Turns out people from the US and Great Britain are the only visitors who don’t have to do this. I must applaud Ali, the newest member of the Afghan team, who did not have the comparative luxury of rehearsals that Reena and I did. He’s a pro for jumping right into a new show with virtually no rehearsal.

What I have learned this week is that Bond Street Theatre has admirable comfort with a complete change in plans, a sense of ease in chaos, and lots of patience. These qualities are shared by everyone on the team, which means that no matter what, we get through the day with grace.

Other Bits: A girl from HOPE introducing me to her mother. A goat wearing a sweater. Seeing Reena perform for the first time! She was pretty great. My teammates laughing at the big pillow butt I added to my “teacher” costume. Eating a meal as a whole team together for the first time on Thursday. Throwing lentils all over myself and the wall and the floor when I tried to do a plate flip with a plate of actual food. The sound of Ali’s voice singing so sweetly. Joanna and Michael telling tales of the Odin Theatre Anniversary. And tales of fiascoes from previous tours - with only one key for the eight of us, of course someone got locked out just once during the week. The gigantic crowd of laughing kids. The college students from Jamia Islamia being equally excited about who I thought should be president and our show. Being able to call it “our” show.

Week Two: Lucknow (click here for photos)

The week began with a train ride from Delhi to our next destination: Lucknow.

None of us got any sleep the night before. Michael was up virtually all night arranging for a taxi that would pick up me and Ali, and then take us to pick up Reena 25 minutes outside the city, and then come all the way back to the train station by 5:15 am. In the US, this is not as much of an organizational event as it was here. When Michael wasn’t on the phone, he was wondering whether it would all work out. In the end, everything came together.

Everyone was up all night packing and being with friends or family one last time before our tour headed out for the rest of the month. And while Ali and I hardly slept with our 3:45 am departure, Ali softened the pre-dawn taxi ride by singing Afghan songs all the way to Reena’s.

A little bit about Reena: she is a volunteer at Gandhi Smriti (the place where Gandhi last lived and was assassinated). Just as this is my first trip to India, this is Reena’s first time leaving her parents for longer than a few days although she is over 21 years old – quite typical situation for girls. This is also only her second time performing in a play. Her parents were very concerned that she be well taken care of and I feel determined to live up to their expectations. Her mother cried in the early-morning darkness as Reena said goodbye and got into the taxi.

The train ride was a great idea. As it pulled out of the Delhi station, I had a keen sense of the adventure we were about to embark on together and I was flooded with precious memories from my past: first time riding a bicycle, first plane trip across the Atlantic, first day of class at Dell’Arte.

Ali and I wrote commemorative poems (in English - Thanks Ali!):

From a red shard of moon and a sleepless night,
God’s eye burns through the milky morning haze.
Together we fly faster than the birds,
protected by a mother’s tears.
Roses in our hair,
buttered bread in our bellies,
napping content as cats,
we head off to a land of new songs.
There is no other feeling like the beginning.
We wear fresh excitement for the beautiful future,
which stretches in front of us like the train tracks.
-- Sarah, Delhi to Lucknow, March 2, 2008

"A trip to my heart"
Let your beautiful eyes see all these beauties
Look at the romantic sun
It smiles on you
I love her golden hair
Around her beauty face
Let your soul feel all these joys
The trees outside the train
Want you to smile
To hug and to hold in their arms
Can you tell me why we can’t feel these natural happinesses
Yes. Because we don’t seek it around us.
Sarah, still I hear your voice and your violin’s voice
I feel your mixed in fogs
And your music too
Have this phrase in your mind forever
When we think beauty, when we see beauty and when we travel beauty so everything will be beauty for us.
-- Ali, Delhi to Lucknow, March 2, 2008

We saw the beautiful Indian countryside and got to spend some time together – arriving in Lucknow about six hours later, where members of Nisarg (Nature) Theater group – our hosts – helped us get all our many bags to the Executive Guest House where we are staying for the two-week visit.

Just a small bit about Lucknow: it’s known a City of Culture and I am told it is a center of the Hindi language. It was the home base of the Muslim kings of ancient history (Nawabs they were called). Many buildings are crumbling beauties, worn out from the heat and humidity. There are extremely modern, shiny glass buildings too. And then right near those, people live in tents and shacks and make fires every night to cook. The contrast sends me on a reverie on the adaptability and resilience of humanity.

We have had a jam-packed week and I very much look forward to further exploration next week.

Our first order of business was a performance in the village of Shram Vihar – a dusty slum area near the train station. Though we felt, as a cast, a bit shaky with new adjustments to the show, the community watching clearly had a very good time. Here is a first – in the middle of the show, a small herd of goats walked across the “stage” followed by a little old woman who looked a bit aggravated that we decided to play in her goat path. The goats were nonchalant. We stayed after to have chai with members of the village. It was pretty great to be there.

The next day we performed for and met the participants in our next workshop in a rural village of Dewa, about 45 minutes outside the city of Lucknow. In this community there is no electricity, and the people live in brick shelters.

The workshop was organized by Nisarg along with a group called Insaani Biradari and its leader named Adyog. The 30 or so girls came from different villages and Adyog told us that, of the girls there, only three had permission from their fathers. Their mothers knew about and supported their interest to learn about theater and how to use theater for education, but from their fathers and brothers it had to be hidden. The fathers want to preserve what they see as the only appropriate role for women: They must stay in the home and care for the family, far away from exposure to the outside world.

Despite all this - these girls are like smart girls anywhere. They are brave, silly, shy at times, and surprisingly not shy at others.

I ducked out of the workshop to peak at the village one afternoon. As I walked up the narrow dirt road between homes - one child up the way pointed and yelled to about 6 other children who came out to look at me, along with I think their mother. I took their picture and we all had a good laugh at it. These kids don’t see their own image frequently and digital cameras produce some amazement.

I also saw a group of men and women digging the red dirt out into a pile (I imagine for bricks). And several happy cows. And a man and woman puffing rice over a fire – the man shook and stirred this wok-type pan while the woman added grass to the fire, they moved the rice from two gigantic piles – from the raw pile to the puffed pile. They called me over and GAVE me a little bag of it! I couldn’t believe it! I ate it for breakfast all week.

It is such a beautiful place. The people are tough looking. A little on the gnarly side. In utter contrast are the girls of the workshop! The girls are beautiful and seeing the tough skin and thinness of the other villagers, it makes them seem even more astounding. I know they will take what they’ve learned in the workshop to enrich the lives of everyone around them. And what are they learning? How to express themselves freely with confidence, without shyly covering their mouth or putting their head down. To stand boldly and make a statement, or sing a song, or say their name out loud. To feel like a whole person.
This week I have come to love the car ride to Dewa and back, during which we plan for the workshops, discuss how workshops went, and communicate about upcoming events. It was during one of these rides that Shafiq laughingly pointed to one of the many brick kilns off in the distance and said, “You see that? That is a well that they are drying out. They take them out of the ground, and air them out for a while then put them back into the ground. It purifies the water!” Always joking! He also said when he reached for one grape and got a big bunch, “God loves me!” Ha! What a great spirit he has. We were all very sad that he had to return to Kabul for his work with the BBC.

I must mention that also this week we did evening workshops for members and affiliates of Nisarg. These were performers who work doing social theater, who will be able to directly apply what we taught to their own projects. Again the topic of the state of women came up! The first day, Joanna pointed out that of the 40 actors, only three were women. I guess I'm a bit of an American post-feminist. I want to assume men and women are equal and avoid making an issue of it, so I was nervous for how the group would react to the comment. Boy, they had great things to say. Families do not support a woman’s interest in theater. There are certainly many well-known female theater artists, but for most people, the idea is impossible to swallow. One young man said that there is a lot of lip service given to supporting women who want to be involved in theater, but then no one wants their own sisters or daughters to make that choice and that the men must start following through with what they say they believe, which is that there should be equality for women. And Joanna said they could also be more sensitive about making an environment where women feel comfortable to do something that is both new and socially unaccepted. I was grateful that Joanna brought up the topic. I am cracked open. I see these three women, and Reena, my excellent roommate and co-performer with even deeper appreciation.

I have also learned this week what it is like to be given the space and time to grow as a workshop facilitator. I led some workshop sessions that I wish had better transitions or more inspiring explanation, but no one criticized my work, and in fact all were very supportive. I appreciate the space and trust the team gives each other, especially to Ali and I as we step into leading workshops for people who do not share our native language.

Other bits: Shaheen from Dewa teaching me to write my name in both Urdu and Hindi, taking a 24 hour fast with Reena in celebration of Shivratre on Wednesday and getting applauded by the whole Nisarg workshop when they found out, learning about Rosa, the month-long Muslim fast, which will be in October this year, Sangeeta, the assistant manager of the Executive Guest House taking me on her moped to the mall! Having a dance party with Reena along with the Indian music video station on TV.

Bond Street in Afghanistan Video

A mini-documentary that follows Bond Street Theatre's work in Afghanistan from 2003 to 2007, to collaborate and perform with Exile Theatre and to reach over 30,000 people in rural provinces.

From Afghanistan to India for Evaluation

After our adventure in Afghanistan teaching theatre to a primarily all-girls theatre group in the small, conservative city of Kunduz (read below!), we traveled to India for the next two weeks to conduct an evaluation on the projects we had initiated last Spring. We were very pleased to find that many of the students, teachers and organizations we collaborated with had continued the work based on our models and techniques.

A few examples:

We re-visited the small villages of Chandipur and Shahid Matangini in West Bengal, home of the Patachitra painters. The Patachitras make their living by selling their artwork which they present to the public accompanied by singing. They have practiced this art for hundreds of years. A group of 20 Patachitras participated in our workshops last Spring aimed at expanding their performing abilities and thus improving the saleability of their artwork which has been diminishing over the years. We created two new shows with the Patachitras. Now, six months later, we visited them to see if the new techniques they learned are being used.

We were very happy to find that the villagers were so taken with the new presentation techniques and ideas we gave them that they have now created a new performance piece based on current village events that has gained them much-needed attention and has measurably added to each of the participant's income.

The Patachitra's new piece takes place under a painted canopy, inspired by our workshop. We encouraged participants to paint other items besides their traditional scroll form.

The performing group consisted of three members from our workshop program and four other villagers whom they taught. This is highly unusual since the Patachitras never work as a group, only as individual painters. About their new spirit of cooperation, Bablu, who organized the ensemble, said, "I told the others, if these people could come together from the United States and Afghanistan to work with us, we should be able to meet between our villages!"

We also found that our past work at Gandhi Smriti in Delhi has opened new doors to our team member and collaborator, Subhash Rawat. As a direct result of the initiative in February at Gandhi Smriti teaching their vocational students, 30 young people, ten from our original workshops, got together under Subhash's direction to make a play about Gandhi's childhood "Moniya - the child that Mahatma was." We were in town for the premiere and it was a huge success! Many of the children in the play had never acted before, or had their first experience in our workshops last Spring. Now Gandhi Smriti plans to tour the new play throughout India. Congrats Subhash!

Final Presentation Day Afghanistan!

In a public ceremony on November 15th, we presented a demonstration of the techniques and skills learned in the workshops, and gave Certificates to each of the Mediothek Theatre students.

The presentation was the first time such a diverse display of theatrical techniques was ever seen in Kunduz, and it made quite an interesting performance and an amazing impression on the audience! The group did very well and we were proud of them. But there were a few surprises...

As the audience of invited guests, primarily male, arrived and took their seats, many of the girls' confidence slowly began to falter. It is profoundly difficult to be a female and present yourself publicly on stage in an environment where women are completely hidden. Although the girls were all eager and willing to display their new skills, when confronted with a live audience of men, many of whom they knew or were young men that they might marry, suddenly the situation became tough to face. We had made masks in previous workshops that were used in some parts of the show but, suddenly, all of the girls wanted to wear their masks! Many of the girls had performed several times before at the International Theatre Festivals in Kabul in front of far more critical audiences, but even seasoned performers can find an audience of family or friends a bit daunting.

I should add, the Mediothek staff were careful to invite only those people who have an active interest in theatre and its revitalization, and a willingness to accept women on the stage. And Bibimah, the Director, gave a fine talk prior to the show addressing the relevance of theatre in Afghan culture and why women's presence on the stage was not unIslamic.

In the end, the girls did perform with as much fervor as they could manage, and the response of the audience was superlative! They were very impressed to see the girls so competent on the stage, the quality of their acting, the beautiful mask work, maneuvering on the stilts, the range of techniques the young women and men had learned. If they noticed the girls' sudden timidity, they didn't mention it. And in the end, both girls and boys were very excited at what they had achieved and the wonderful response from the audience.

Our next challenge as teachers is to consider the best way to approach the issue. Can we encourage more women to join the audiences, and would that help? Most of these young women have aspirations to join the government, to become lawyers and politicians -- public roles indeed. Are there smaller steps we can take to empower the girls and, even more important, educate the audiences? Most of their sudden shyness was the fear of exposure, but the many of the physical techniques of stagecraft, such as martial arts and dance, are radical departures from accepted women's behavior in general.

Considering the obstacles, it is all the more remarkable that these young women have decided, completely on their own, to create theatre! We have a deeper appreciation for the very daring and outstanding choices they have made for themselves against all odds. Although these girls may not become actors in their adult lives, we know that the theatre training will give the girls poise, confidence and inspiration as they pursue their future careers.

We are really going to miss this energetic and fun loving group and we wish them luck as they continue in their work. We also hope to find funding to return and work again with the group: our plan is to create a piece together and to bring them to the US.

Dust Storm

A dust storm kept us from performing at the orphanage today. We will have to try again tomorrow. It was like being in a white out—except a little dirtier. You could feel the grit in your teeth and on your tongue. All the day the sky was orange and then it began to snow sand!

(this is the actual color of the sky)

Workshops are Cookin'

We have one week of workshops under our belt and we have all had a great time! We are giving them a little bit of everything we know... a crash course in physical theatre. We begin with a creative movement warm-up and concentration games, and follow with the essential of acting: body language, working with text, the symbolism in actions, etc. Then there are the other skills: mask-making and mask performance, making puppets out of everyday objects (thanks Theatre Tsvete!), martial arts (stick fighting from the Philippines), stilt-walking, commedia dell'arte, acrobatic balances, rhythm games, juggling, and many other important elements of a physical theatre vocabulary. They love the masks -- we make the masks directly on the students' faces, a soothing process that results in an exact replica of each student's countenance.

It is rewarding to talk and interact with the young females of Afghanistan over these weeks. We feel we are getting to know about their lives, aspirations and dreams, such as going to university to become astronauts, teachers, and politicians. We know this theatre training is a good preparation for their future careers, even if they don't become theatre artists. Their self-confidence grows daily with each achievement.

Each day we wave goodbye to our female participants, very outgoing and talented students who we have just worked with closely for three hours, as they put on their burqas and step through the compound door. The situation is a disconnect for me... to see them slip beneath the veil. You'd think that these girls would be the ones to change things and refuse to wear the burqa. They are willing to see change, but also patient.... "In a few years things will be different," says Bibimah (which means good moon), the Director of the theatre group, who is 17 and began wearing the burqa only two months ago. Their families are worried about their safety. “We wear it because the security situation is not good in Afghanistan,” says another theatre student. "We don't mind it, but it is too bad that it covers the whole face." I gather that there is a little feminine mystique to the burqa too, a right of passage into womanhood for Afghan girls, like getting to wear high heels for the first time.

We are teaching one class also for children and they are bright and very enthusiastic. I don’t think they get the opportunity to have structured play very often. In fact, there are almost no playgrounds in Afghanistan—we have seen only one in our time in Kunduz.

The power has been out for more than two days now. It comes on in spurts and unexpectedly, so after dark, we work feverishly when it's on, and go to sleep early when it's not. We were so impressed that Kunduz had 24 hour power, one of the only places in Afghanistan, apparently, and now that familiar sound of the generator is our friend again. Fortunately, the daily classes are all held outside in the dusty sunshine.

Living in Afghanistan

The workshops have started well and we are more than busy: the theatre group in the morning, the ‘magic box’ children in the afternoon, and a class for older male students some evenings, as well as performances of “A Tale of Two Kites” at local schools and orphanages.

We were finally able to leave the Mediothek compound on foot today. It was an amazing experience to step outside the calm compound walls into the bustle of five o’clock commerce. The city is a sensory overload. The streets are busy with horse and donkey drawn carts heaving heavy loads of fruit and flour. The horses are decorated with colorful, decorative baubles and fake flowers adorn their harnesses. Bright blue, ornately decorated three wheeled rickshaws bear burqa clad women to work or to shopping, the rickshaw framing the half light of this very bright and dusty small city. The metal working shops are next to the fruit stands are next to the water pumps. Long quiet streets stretch away from the main drag, lined with trees. We achieve unisex roles when performing, but truth be told, there are not a lot of foreign women in Kunduz-- and the attention we get when we step out on the streets actually stops traffic. The scene is fascinating - we attempt to take everything in and yet somehow not create a stir.

At around the same time of our evening walk, there was what the news is calling a “major suicide attack” in the Baghlan Province, a neighboring district. The initial reports are that several important Parliamentarians as well as civilians and children have been killed, including Mostafa Kazemi, who was “a great man doing good things for Afghanistan” according to our friends here. We heard the news as we sat down to dinner. Everyone at Mediothek is shocked and saddened. Suicide attacks are a recent phenomenon in Afghanistan, giving a new edge to the violence here. “During the day we are smiling, but inside we are sad” Bibimah tells us of the Afghan sentiment about this attack.

Performances

Today we went on a search to get flowers for our comedic non-verbal show for the children: A Tale of Two Kites. On the wall next to a door there was a hand painted sign that said ‘All types of Flowars and Plants for sale’. An old man, stooped and smiling, led us into the compound, a hidden treasure…. a nursery with lush yards and a greenhouse. Inside, the old man cut flowers off the vine for us, chatting in Dari about the different plants. The greenhouse and gardens were calm and quiet and green, a world away from the dusty streets. We got to meet his wife too, an extra treat for the females of Bond Street who get to slip into the house and visit with the women while Michael must wait outside.

The shows have been extraordinarily fun and worth getting completely dirty top to toe. It is so great to see the children laugh and participate! Most have never seen a performance in their lives and are amazed at every little thing.

Mediothek Theatre Group of Kunduz

Today, we arrived in Kunduz. We got here in a prop plane! 10 seats-- we almost had more luggage than the plane. They had to weigh the gear and each passenger to see if we were too heavy to fly—but we made it and we have arrived! The flight was 45 minutes over ravenous mountains that twisted like rivers and tributaries of mud and sand.... we landed at the airport: a small building and landing strip that was surrounded by scrap metal, rusting planes and pieces of army tanks… sort of how I imagine the surface of the moon. The city does not have domestic flights yet, like some of the other major cities to the north. Kunduz is a small city, with no buildings above two stories, surrounded by farms and green landscape. There are many children here, at play and also at work—lugging wheelbarrows, stacking bricks, and working the fields.

We are staying with Mediothek, an NGO that sponsors the girl’s theatre company. Mediothek (Media Center) of Afghanistan publishes Kunduz's only magazine, once a month, with an insert made by the teenagers of the theatre group who design the spread and do the reporting. The Mediothek compound, located in the center of town, is also a community center. The NGO offers many cultural programs like the "Magic Box," a creative play and performance program for children, as well as an active youth program that promotes journalism, film making, and theatre as a way to engage youth (boys and girls together) to become active in their community. The artistic programs also develop creativity, presentation and leadership skills.

We met the group today. They call themselves Mediothek Theatre Group, although they are considering a more descriptive name. They now have a few boys in the group, but the group is still primarily young women, ages 14-18 years old, directed by Bibimah, a lead actress in the group. The group was founded in 2004 by an enterprising young woman, Naseeba Holgar, who initiated the idea quite on her own and is now studying Law at Balkh University. Bibimah is heading to university next year. The group comes together for projects, but has a hard time meeting regularly since there are few performance opportunities for theatre groups in Kunduz. The annual Kabul Theatre Festival and a few Mediothek conferences provide the main outlet for their work.

We also shared our portfolio—it is always a great idea to bring tons of pictures to share as an introduction... now on to the fun (and tough) part of creating something together. We start workshops tomorrow... and continue through the next two weeks!

November in AFGHANISTAN - to Kunduz

Three Bond Street Theatre members are in Afghanistan to work with an all-girls theatre company in the small city of Kunduz, located in the north of the country.

The flight out of Delhi was delayed 5 hours, so we did not arrive into Kabul until evening which is a hard time to arrive at the Kabul airport, with no lights in the parking lot and 7 large bags of theatrical supplies for only three people to lug, haggling for a taxi in the darkness. The Kabul Airport has improved greatly since the last time we came though - construction is underway! We are staying at the famed/infamous Mustafa Hotel in Kabul and there are a group of Aussies here on vacation, taking in the sights and traveling on local buses. Even the man at the front desk suggested that the drive to Kunduz, through the Salang Pass through the Hindu Kush mountain range, was safe. We hear about the beauty of the drive from everyone, but we do not want to take the risk. As for me, it is always difficult to come back to Afghanistan because of the worry of my family and all of the stories in the newspaper. But once I am here, in the everyday of a country that has everyday just like any other place in the world, I begin to relax. I am very excited about the project to come: working with an all girls theatre group in Kunduz!

Bond Street met the company at the International Theatre Festival of Kabul in 2005 while we were working on “Beyond the Mirror” with Exile Theatre. The girls had natural talent and with no formal training, they were better than many of the student groups from the theatre programs at the University. It is unusual and difficult for women to be on stage in Afghanistan and Bond Street was excited to see an all-girls group, especially from a more conservative area. We met the founder and former director of the company Nassiba in our last trip in May in Mazar-i-Sharif, but were unable to come to Kunduz. Now we are back in Afghanistan to work the young women. I look forward to meeting the group tomorrow and spending the weeks to come working together.

...and many happy returns.

I can count the days left on my fingers as this very long journey begins to wind down. Currently, we are in Afghanistan, working with an organization called Aschiana that runs soup kitchens and day centers for street working children all over Afghanistan, as well as a vocational training facility for older youth.

We are in Mazar-i-Sharif, a city to the north that is famous for a very large and very blue mosque claiming to be the final resting place of Mohamed’s son-in-law Ali. The mosque is painted with ornate decoration while fake plastic palm trees in various florescent colors line the marble courtyard and surrounding park. At night the whole mosque, including plastic palm trees is lit up like the Vegas strip.

The scene is enhanced by the always striking image of women beneath white burqas huddled in the few places of shade. Mazar is famous for the white burqa, while Kabul for the sky blue. I must say, despite myself, that the burqa can be visually stunning against the subdued hues of brown cobbled streets and unpainted houses.

The streets in Mazar are paved in sections of bumpy roads and then smooth concrete. The streets are lined by walls and long passageways that lead to more walls and doors. Colors are sparse, and after being India, they look tastefully simple. We are in a tall building, so we can peak into the courtyards surrounding us. Otherwise, life here is lived behind closed doors for the most part.

We performed a cut down version of the show we were doing for children in INDIA, as our group has gone from nine to three. We are performing in schools, orphanages, the Aschiana centers, and on Saturday the kindergarten! The children seem to really respond here, although you can tell they do not really know how to watch a show. Audience participation like clapping, etc is just not part of their socialization. Neither are some of the most basic things we take for granted like forming a line. The basic education classes attempt to instill these ideas while also focusing on literacy. Because the children work on the street for the most part and do not go to school, they can only spare an hour for education class. The extra enticement of a hot meal everyday gets about 120 children in the classroom for even a limited amount of time, a great accomplishment in my eyes.

Teaching workshops has been particularly noteworthy here because, right away, you can see the value in theatre games for teaching and improving coordination and listening skills. If given the time, space and consistency of a long term program, games with rules like “when I say 1:touch the wall, 2: touch the floor, 3: get in a circle 4: dance with a friend”, can decidedly help the everyday development of these children. In addition, we taught some of the vocational kids the games before hand so they could be the trainers when working with the children. It was so rewarding to see one woman take the class over and teach a game I had forgotten I had shown them.

We hope that they will take this into their lives in some way and more importantly that we can come back here after some time away. What a gift it would be to come back and see our trainings incorporated into their curriculum. Even to come back just to give them a smile would be such a blessing.

Life here feels very every day, a concept that is so hard to convey through emails and blogs. It’s hard for many to believe that a place that we hear about so frequently in the news can be a place of such normalcy. Of course, I am in the north, and look out of my bedroom window in the mornings to a rose garden. This place is of infinite wonder and contradiction to me, a place I would like to return to and a place I will never fully understand. Nor they me.

Ultimately, we hope that our work and our presence here has given people an alternative view to that they see on the news or in their streets. That there are Americans coming with roses in hand, instead of guns. I imagine that is what cultural exchange is all about; connections and questions, uncertainties and optimism, beginnings and hopefully many happy returns.