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.   

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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