Showdown in Sudan (#4)

On the day of our actual performance, the whole event was shut down. The imam of the main mosque had denounced the event on Holy Friday, the day before, and that’s no small matter in Sudan. There were those in the government completely against this entire exchange. I was in midst of teaching an additional class in clowning at another location when the rumors reached us.  I gathered my students together and told them what might be happening. And I said what mattered most was the experience we shared working together over the past 10 days. They said they would perform the show somewhere no matter what and send me the video for me to see. We arrived at the performance space with a mix of trepidation and excitement.  I saw military police stationed at the entrance and thought, "Uh oh, this is getting serious."  Our performance was in a huge parking lot next to a major conference hall.  It turned out the President was next door at a conference!  This was one of the reasons given for why we could not proceed with our performance.  Nonetheless, after much negotiation between our producers and government representatives, the show was back on again.

However, all the hold-ups delayed everything and we started really late.  My students waited and waited for their chance to present.  (There were many acts in the entire performance evening, including music, rap and hip hop dance.)  As we were getting ready we began to dance to the music playing.  One of the government representatives approached us and said "no dancing."

(The evening before, a government rep had told us all the women must wear headscarves during the performance or they would cancel the whole show.  Several of the women were very upset by this and one flat out refused.  They compromised by wearing a hat and tucking in their hair.  I wore a headscarf in solidarity.  Otherwise, as a foreigner I was not obliged to wear one (unlike my experience in Afghanistan).  Indeed, not all Sudanese women wear headscarves, although I would say it’s the practice of about 99% of women.  Covering your hair is not explicitly required, but it can be arbitrarily enforced by the authorities.  Recently, a Sudanese woman was arrested for not wearing a headscarf and is on trial facing a possible punishment of 40 lashes.)

And then, finally, it was my students' turn. They got on stage, began their performance, and they rocked it. There were over a thousand people in the audience (I was told as many as 3,000) who clapped, whistled and laughed in recognition of what my students were presenting.  After all the apprehension, this was so affirming and satisfying to witness, and I was so excited for the performers.

And then I was told we had to cut their performance short! The authorities mandated the whole event end at a certain time. The clock struck when my students were only halfway through their performance.  I was the one who had to physically get up there on stage and stop them.

The students were absolutely 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 got so upset they refused to leave the stage and were near ready to riot.  It was getting serious.  They shouted at me:  “We leave this stage only because of you, Anna, because of you; otherwise we refuse!” It was heart-wrenching.

In the midst of this the organizer tells me, “You must leave now!” and I was immediately whisked off to the airport for my scheduled flight.  I had no opportunity to gather the students and talk about what happened and say goodbye.  Normally I would take time for a debrief, which is something very important to do at the end of a project, especially one as intensive as this one. It was really hard to leave in such a state of incompletion. I quickly handed a stack of certificates to Hashim for distribution -- and he reached out and hugged me. This set off a chain-reaction of spontaneous embraces.  No words, simply the most deeply heartfelt hugs.  It affirmed for me that even in the face of this terrible breakdown our bond was not broken.  It is difficult to put into words the mix of emotions of the deeply meaningful exchange that had taken place between us, so suddenly cut short.   

* * *

I have since been in communication with them. They are in good spirits and ready to perform the piece again elsewhere. They said: "We are artists and we are strong, we have a message to show the world and you showed us how to give it out."  

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.  If I'll get another visa... There has been a lot of controversy in the local press and government in Sudan about our program.  Our supporters in the government are still defending the program – they are the ones facing the consequences now (among them Mr. Obay who turned out to be an ally and advocate) – I hope they prevail!

For more photos, go to: YES Sudan Highlights

Drama in Sudan - continued (#3)

To begin a dramatic exploration of the issues, we gave the students an assignment to create a phrase and movement that represents one of the chosen themes.  What they created in this 10-minute exercise was amazing.  Here is one movement piece:

The students also created several deeply affecting pieces on the issue of cultural identity.  In one piece, a woman stands up in the audience and cries out “Who am I?” She runs to the stage, approaching her fellow citizens who turn away. Another approaches with same question. Little by little they come together and collectively ask the audience: Who are we?” They then burst forth with great urgency, demanding: “Who are we?! Who are we?! WHO ARE WE?!”

In another piece, a group of Arabs enter dancing a traditional Arabic dance and meet a group of Africans dancing a traditional African dance, very different from the former.  They see each other, stop and warily circle around each other. Eventually they couple up, one African and one Arab, and all come together. Out of their union, three babies are born. The children are confused. Because the north and the south are divided (as the country has recently been). They do not know who they are and where they belong. Are they Arab like their father, or African like their mother?  They collapse in a state of fear and despair.  It was quite poignant and profound!  The piece then developed so that the children torn between the two in the end find that they are enriched by both, and thusly declare “We are Sudanese.”

At the unemployment office

The students also created a compelling, and comedic, scene about the dire unemployment situation for young college graduates and how you can only get a job if you have a connection.  Additionally, they developed a piece about the lack of acceptance in society of artists and innovators; how there is no space for new innovation and no appreciation for artists. This was a recurring theme in their discussions. These young men and women want to push boundaries, and make room for new ideas and new possibilities.  As artists, they want to be free to express themselves.

At one rehearsal what began as a simple physical warm-up erupted into a spontaneous dance party.  There was such wonderful energy and expression!  "Perfect, this is how we end the play!," I exclaimed.  I wanted the show to end in a moment of celebration.  No, no, we were then told. This is not appropriate.  The students cannot move like that on stage in front of the public.  We were also told, the boys and girls cannot hold hands.  The students protested that this is what they do in life, they do it at the university and it's fine.  I advised that we acquiesce on this one.  We were lucky the government representative had said nothing so far about other aspects of our presentation.  

In developing our play, aware of the sensitivity of the issues, we focused on movement and imagery and incorporating comedic elements.  We made sure to include positive perspectives and solutions.  Two clownish narrators begin the show and provide commentary and comic relief, guiding the audience along the journey, which begins with a declaration of love for Sudan. We then present three problems: Unemployment/Freedom of Artistic Expression/Arab vs African.  We end on a positive note of togetherness: We are all Sudanese and together we can make Sudan even greater. 

There was a lot of debate about how to present things, what would be appropriate and what adjustments we might need to make.  Even as we cloaked our message in comedy and mime, it was still obvious and possibly too obvious. Talking about problems at all was just too controversial.  At the end of our last rehearsal, one of the organizers came and voiced concern about what was safe to say. Despite warnings, the students were adamant to proceed with what they had created. They said, “This is what we want to say.” “These problems exist. Others have already talked about them, we’re not the first.” “We are drama students, we are in the arts – this is what we do, we must express ourselves.” They said to me: “You asked us what the problems are. So we are telling you.” 

I assumed the students would know how far they could go.  After all, they live in Sudan, I don’t.  But as rehearsals progressed, it became clear they don't know what the boundaries are, or they don't care. This was challenging to navigate. I felt responsible because I was directing them and leading them. I was not sure how serious the situation was going to get.  At one moment it seemed it wasn’t a big deal. The next I had the impression there could be major consequences.  For the students, and for us.  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?

Drama in Sudan (#2)

On our first day, close to thirty men and women showed up eager to partake in our workshops.  Most of them drama students from the University of Sudan.  My co-teacher Lydia had held auditions for a select few to join, but others heard about the program and came too.  Some were students in other disciplines but who wanted a chance to explore theater. A few others were older professionals equally eager to benefit from this unique opportunity: to have an exchange with American artists.  We couldn’t say no. In the end, we had 34 students.

Moubalara!
From the first moment, I was so impressed and so excited to work with these students -- they were really talented, expressive and 100% gung-ho. It is immensely 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 days, we worked intensively together, all of us greatly invested in the creative process and each other.

 Now, imagine having only 10 days to train and create a show with a cast of 34 people! We had before us a Herculean task. Add to the challenge the fact that we were not producing an already written play. Our play was an original ensemble creation. This means we draw the material out of the group, developing it and shaping it together.  The process was helped greatly by the fact that the students were so creative and so willing to play. My mantra for the workshop became: Koulakoum moubalara!  Everybody is amazing! In the end what emerged was a powerful and poignant piece -- not fully developed nor professionally seamless -- but nonetheless a compelling performance, about 40 minutes long. 

This is not to say that there weren't bumps along the way.

Movement exercise

As talented as this group was, they still have a lot to learn, and focus was often an issue.  Making good theater requires a tremendous amount of focus, energy and discipline.  We spent the first couple of days working with the students on group movement to strengthen their cohesion as an ensemble and develop their awareness, sensitivity and concentration.  Working in such a large group is challenging, and it’s natural to lose attention – even for seasoned professionals.  But as rehearsals went along, it was time to get tough.  But as rehearsals went along, it was time to get tough.  During run-throughs of the play, many of the students would wander off, away from the stage area, instead of being in their designated spots ready for their next moment on stage.  I kept herding them back like cats. At a certain point, I got so frustrated I shouted at them in a fit of fury: "You want to be a professional actor, you need discipline!!!" (I was channeling Debbie Allen in Fame: "You want fame? Well, here's where you start paying: in sweat!").  "Focus, be ready and give your all." 

I don’t think I’ve ever done that before, quite so intensely.  But I was so passionately invested in their performance, because I knew how much it mattered to them to get to perform and have their say.  I had seen their potential and knew how great they could be.  The students told me, "We will give our all on performance night."  I countered: "Yes, but to get there you must do it now in rehearsal.  You must cultivate your performance with 100% engagement from the start!" This was our last rehearsal, there was a lot of tension built up, and the whole session culminated in a declaration of commitment, passion and love for our work together and each other.  In ten intense days, we had created a really strong bond.  We were working hard on something already complex and challenging -- and to this was added an underlying sense of urgency. Our endeavor was becoming increasingly controversial.

The Great Challenge
 We were creating a performance piece on a social issue.  Initially, the theme suggested by the YES Academy producer was national identity (in the wake of separation from South Sudan), but Lydia and I left the question open-ended. We asked our students: We are here to create a show on a social issue relevant to you. What do you want to talk about? What is important to you?  We wanted to hear from the students their own thoughts and ideas. And they had a lot to share.

From among all the topics of discussion, what emerged as the main issues were:

Voting on the theme

• Unemployment – no work for young graduates
• Cultural identity – are we Arab or African?
• Acceptance of the arts – society does not accept creativity and innovation
  and most fervently,
• Freedom of expression.

They yearn to speak their minds as artists, to express their passions and points of view. These were all issues our students felt strongly about and that they feel are of great relevance to the Sudanese people.  It was interesting to learn about the cultural confusion. Indeed, it’s a real identity crisis for many. Ethnically the majority of Sudanese are African but culturally the majority are Arab (in North Sudan). Some look very Arabic (Middle Eastern), but most look African (black) or a mix.  All speak Arabic and are mainly Muslim. There’s great tension between the two, and African-looking Sudanese often feel discriminated against. 

But the most burning issue among the students was freedom of expression.

And here was our great challenge:  how create a show in which the students 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!  Bringing up any social issue can be viewed as criticism.  The last thing I want to do is stifle my students.  But I also don’t want negative consequences!

Diplomacy in Sudan (#1)

In November I spent two weeks in Sudan teaching theater and here, finally, is my full account of this amazing experience. It was an intensive time that proved deeply enriching and meaningful.  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 northeast Africa, south of Egypt, that recently split into Sudan and South Sudan.  Sudan 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 past September the government cut subsidies, prices rose sharply, and 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. The YES Academy Sudan program was sponsored by the US Embassy and the Sudanese Ministry of Culture and took place in the capital Khartoum.  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 to create a performance piece on a relevant social issue.  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. I imagine they wanted to ensure we were not about to corrupt their youth and foment a revolution. The government representative’s name was Obay.  I am not kidding. And he was from the Central Thought and Culture Office.  (You can’t make this stuff up.)  We were suspicious at first, and a bit nervous about his presence. But Mr. Obay in the end turned out to be an ally who strongly advocated for our program to the rest of the authorities.  There were apparently factions in the government who were not so keen on our presence. 

A representative from the Ministry of Culture, who was our main sponsor, also came by to see how things were going.  He seemed genuinely concerned about how the rest of the world views Sudan, and appeared to think 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?”  Next time I will!  This was a whirlwind and a roller coaster ride. I did not really have the chance to fully experience all of Khartoum and Sudan.  There’s so much to learn still. Especially about the theater in Sudan.  

Coming up: Working with the drama students -- koulakoum moubalara!

On the Road Again: Sudan!

It's been a while, and finally time to venture out into the world again!

I just got back from an intensive two-week project in Sudan. It was an amazing, beautiful and profound experience.

I joined the American Voices YES Academy program to teach theater to university students and youth, and to create a performance piece on a relevant social issue, such as national identity (particularly in the wake of separation between Sudan and South Sudan).

While there I had very little internet connection, so the blogging has had to wait. I was able to post a couple of times to Facebook, and here is my first check-in:

11/11/13: First day in Sudan. After a bumpy start with logistics, we finally started the workshops -- and the students are fantastic! I am so impressed. The kids are great and the students from the University of Sudan are so talented, so expressive, and 100% into it. What great stuff we're gonna do in the next two weeks. This is the first high-profile artistic exchange between the US and Sudan. A member of the government was there to check us out, make sure everything's on the up and up.... Hopefully he approved.

Over the next few days, I will give more details to bring you along on my journey. Fasten your seatbelts, we're going on an intense roller coaster ride!