LOKA HUMANA social outreach theater

Bond Street in Afghanistan again!

2011-11-01T19:11:00.000-04:00

Bond Street is back in Afghanistan, just in time for the Kabul National Theatre Festival, Sept 22-26, and staying until Nov 2.

This time our Theatre for Social Development project continues with a new exciting theater group called White Star, based in Kabul and comprised of Kabul University graduates who are eager to breathe new life into theater arts in Afghanistan and bring important social information to the community through compelling and uplifting spectacles.

I am staying behind and holding up the fort back in NYC this time around. You can follow along the journey by reading my good friend and colleague Kayhan Irani's blog, who has joined Joanna & Michael on the road. Check out these posts: Kabul Goes to My Head, Bigger than Me, Sisters Are Doing It, Not Just a Banana.

And updates from Michael and Joanna can be found on the Bond Street Blog.

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Afghanistan PHOTOS

2011-07-28T23:24:00.010-04:00

View slideshow here or click once on photo to go to full Picasa album for larger view

Afghanistan -- Performances:

Afghanistan -- the country and the people:

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Afghanistan - The General and his Men

2011-07-20T10:46:00.035-04:00

(Wednesday April 29, 2011)

One day we go see the police commander of Herat. He is the general in charge of the paramilitary police in the area. This is at a heavily fortified military compound outside of the city in the middle of desert-like no man’s land. Hakim, who runs the theater group we’re working with here (together with Monireh) is acquainted with him and ran into the commander the night before at a celebration of the Mujahideen Victory Day over the Soviets. He arranges for us to come see him the next day.

Approaching the compound, we stop at a checkpoint flanked by gigantic sand bags, or barrels rather, and a look-out tower made of a massive mound of sandbags. We proceed through an obstacle course of cement blocks. Then, another checkpoint where they check our van with metal detectors and a pole with a big mirror (looking for bombs under the car). Several soldiers in turn approach us to ask what our business is. Then one of them, apparently a buddy to Hakim, hops up on the side of the van, hanging halfway out, and escorts us as we drive through the compound to the office of the commander.

Tea and Theater

Upon being greeted by several officers, we are led into the commander’s office, and there he sits in full uniform behind a large mahogany desk with a flag of Afghanistan and Karzai’s portrait hanging above him on the wall. The room is huge and lined with couches and arm chairs. He is huge. We take a seat. The commander greets us from behind his desk and is quite congenial. A soldier comes in and serves us tea and bonbons. We are having tea with the police commander of Herat!

“Aha,” says the commander, when he hears about our program -- who we are and what we do --“and what can you do for the police?,” he asks. We describe for him what our show is about. Then the commander speaks for a while (I keep hearing the word “teatr”)… "Yes, please do a performance about family conflict. This is a very good thing to present to the men!," he exclaims. Indeed. And so the commander invites us for dinner this very night and to perform our show for his 500 police officers! Wow. OK. Fantastic! I was quite amazed, really. The Afghan police commander just invited us to dinner and to perform a theater show for his men – on a moment’s notice! Just like that. I just could not imagine the same happening with a U.S. Army General.

The Elusive Handshake

When we return in the evening, we are greeted by the commander wearing a white peron tomban (shalwar kameez, or tunic and pants) and holding yellow prayer beads (a common accessory for men here). He shakes Michael’s and the other men’s hands, but not Joanna or mine. One of the soldiers outside, however, stretched his arm out and gave me a firm handshake. I was almost taken aback. He must have gotten used to being around Americans. I was unsure how to approach the matter of shaking hands with men here and generally I did not offer my hand unless initiated by the man. Men and women do not ordinarily touch, in Afghanistan, not even with a handshake. We settle in the commander’s office for tea yet again and chat before dinner. The commander expresses his appreciation for our work and our coming to do this for the police. He says the police officers need to be aware of human rights – for women and children – and to know how to handle it in their work.

Paramilitary and Politics

The commander, who is a general, has been in the military since the jihad days of fighting the soviets. The police he commands are the ANCOP (Afghan National Civil Order Police). They are involved in civil order protection as a paramilitary force, sort of in between the police and the army. They are specially trained police who handle riots and attacks in addition to regular police patrols. This base is a training center as well as operating base for missions and the men here are deployed from all over the country. They only go home to their families every few months. There are some women on the base, but they mostly do cooking and laundry. Apparently, the commander is open to more women joining the force in all capacities. And, there’s a daycare center! Quite progressive.

There are two Americans on the base who join us. One is an “embedded advisor,” that is, he is a U.S. military officer who works on his own immersed with the Afghans offering intelligence advice. He teaches counterinsurgency and specializes in building trust in the community for the police, which in turn builds security. To this end, he does not wear an army uniform but rather Afghan traditional clothing and there is no big military operation let by U.S. soldiers. It’s all Afghan action (indirectly and inconspicuously guided by a U.S. military advisor); as he said, “it’s them for them by them.” They walk around, say hi, talk to the people, find out what the problems are, hand out supplies to the children, with the intent to show care and concern. It’s a policy promoted by General Petreus (although, our new friend says, it has received U.S. Army resistance) and has shown to be effective in Iraq.

We’ve been sitting in the general’s office for an eternity, it’s now going on 9 o’clock at night and we haven’t even had dinner yet! Will we even get to present a show? But finally we are called to the dining room… and then:

SHOW TIME!

We proceed to the mess hall where all the officers are gathered. The general has changed back in full uniform and everyone quickly rises to attention. There are almost three hundred policemen gathered, all in fatigues and military gear. It’s a sight to see – performing a show surrounded by soldiers with AK-47s. Luckily, they seem to enjoy it and laugh a lot. Of course, whenever the general claps, they all immediately clap as well. But they seem genuinely interested and watching with keen attention. The ones in the back are standing on the chairs and tables in order to see better. Many of them are filming or taking photos with their cell phones. Which is kind of funny – wherever you go in the world, cell phone cameras abound, even here.

One Blonde American Woman and Three Hundred Afghan Policemen

What’s funnier is that when I turn my camera toward the audience to snap a shot of the soldiers as they watch (since I am the de facto company photographer), they immediately turn their phones away from the performance to me so they can get a shot of the blonde American woman. I’m as much a novelty to them as they are to me, if not more.

Indeed, it’s a bit intimidating to be here among all these Afghan military men. As we wait for the show to begin, they are all staring at me. I realize I’m not entirely comfortable meeting their gaze, looking at them with more than a cursory glance, aware that it is not the cultural norm here for women to assertively look upon men, and that if I do and smile to boot, I might give them ideas… ideas that they may already have about foreign (American) women. This is all conjecture, of course. I would have liked to speak with them one-on-one, learn about them as individuals, find out what they think of things, about the show. But I can’t really shake their hands, and I don’t speak the language. Afterwards, there was not much time to “mingle” and get a translator to facilitate communication. We have to contend with the communication inherent in photographing each other.

Hassan shared with us afterwards how one of the men expressed in response to the show: “I really miss my family!”

A Good Man, A Good Life

The show the boys present (as I have described in earlier posts) is about domestic abuse and centers on a man frustrated and angry who mistreats his wife and son. Through a journey of experiences, he has a change of heart and realizes the errors of his ways. He hurries home to begin anew with his family.

After the performance, we do a Q&A. Several policemen stand up and offer suggestions on topics for another show. Do something about arranged marriages, where a woman is forced to marry someone she doesn’t want to marry! Do a show about narcotics! Do a show about trusting the police! It’s good to see several policemen enthusiastically speak up.

Action Scene!

To top the evening off, we get a ride home in a Humvee! All the way home from the outskirts of town, through the city center, and into the little community on the other side of town, onto a small side street, which the vehicle barely fits. Escorted by a police truck with soldiers sporting machine guns. It was quite the spectacle. It was a good thing it was night and the neighborhood was asleep. Otherwise, it might have been a disturbing sight. Imagine if it had been the middle of the day, and we had come barreling down that little dirt road in a huge military vehicle. Already, the neighborhood kids, whenever they see us, shout out "The Americans are coming, the Americans are coming!"

P.S.

Boys and Girls

The boys performed for the policemen as it would have been impossible to have the girls come. They really wanted to, the girls. But imagine 300 male soldiers living on a base rarely interacting with females, and a group of a teenage girls show up in their midst. In Afghanistan. They would have been eaten alive. I joked “you want to find a husband?” “No!!!” Joanna in turn joked that they just want to go so that they can hang out with the boys and see them play. And, I realize, of course, that’s it. In their world, this is something unusual and special – the fact that they are hanging out together, they boys and the girls! It is not something that occurs normally in Afghan society. This whole time in workshops, rehearsal and outings, they girls and they boys are mixing and it’s intriguing, titillating, exciting. And the girls are at that age where they are starting to get interested in boys (and vice versa). There are definitely some flirtations going on. Hush hush!

Afghanistan: The Drug Treatment Center for Adolescents

2011-05-31T15:30:00.021-04:00

The first performance of our boys' troupe is at a treatment center for drug-addicted adolescents in central Herat. As we enter the compound, there is a young child standing in the yard. I think, surely he can’t be one of them! But he can, and he is. The patients are boys ranging in age from 9 to 17. How do they end up getting involved in drugs? They come from families where there are drug-addicted adults, and in which the children end up using drugs as well (opium, heroin). Indeed, I saw a documentary on Afghan women who would smoke opium to soothe various ailments and give it to their babies to put them to sleep so that the women could work undisturbed. In other situations, children who are working are given drugs by their employers and once they are hooked they get paid in drugs so that they’ll keep working more and more. The treatment center runs ads on TV to bring awareness to the issue and has field workers out looking for whoever might need help. At the center the boys get treatment and vocational training, such as tailoring, together with classes in literacy, computers and painting. They youths stay at the center for six months. I did not find out exactly what happens to them after this. The young ones go back to their families, but are the families still drug-addicted or did they get treatment too?

We do the show outside for 40 boys all dressed in blue tunics and pants. It’s a good show with great energy – kudos to our young performers! – and everyone seems to really enjoy it. We ask if they have ever seen a play before. None have. Theater doesn’t really exist in Afghanistan in these times. It’s a complete novelty for them to have something played out before them in live action.

What is the show about? As with the presentation by the girls' troupe, the boys' show addresses family conflict but focuses on the role of the husband. It tells the story of an angry and frustrated man who mistreats his family with verbal and physical abuse. While away on a journey, the man witnesses other ways of living and being. He sees men who act with authority and yet with patience and kindness, and how they as well as everyone around them are so much happier. Little by little, the man sees the errors of his ways and decides to make a change. In great excitement, he returns home to start anew with his family. The story is simplistically laid out here, but in its theatrical presentation it is quite affecting. Our boys are as talented as the girls and play their roles with great commitment. The goal is to present to the community effective and positive ways to handle conflict within the family and how everyone in the family benefits (including the husband) when there is support of each other. We discuss with the boys the difference between the men portrayed and which behavior works best for a happy and productive home and society.

Did they like the show? Bale! (Yes!) Do they think it’s a good message? Bale!! Is this a good way to bring information to the community? Bale!!! What else should we do a show about? Drug-addiction! Indeed.

Click image to view larger

As this is a show with the boys for the boys, Michael (being a boy) leads the workshop section, which leaves Joanna and I free to observe. There is great excitement as Michael engages the group in a physicalized energy game and some silly clown antics. Afterwards, one of the boys breaks out in an impromptu dance performance in our honor as guests. Someone plays Iranian music on a cell phone as accompaniment. The boy dances in the same style I’ve seen girls do, apparently men do the same movements, although this boy is definitely effeminate (Joanna suspects he is a ‘dancing boy’*). Another boy joins in. There is a fun festive feeling of spontaneous joy and celebration in our shared exchange. And I think to myself: these are the moments I live for. This is why I do this work!

Khoda hafez! Time to go. Joanna and I start to leave, waving goodbye and turning to go but we turn back again and a silly game ensues between us and the boys of turning back and forth while attempting to leave. I suddenly realize I don’t have my shoes on, and burst out “oh no, my shoes!!?” This is apparently hilarious to the boys, and so I start to play with lifting my feet up looking at them and then looking around wondering where in the world my shoes could be. I’m genuinely confused, but then I ham it up a bit too. The boys follow, finding all this very funny. Crazy foreigners! Well, I can’t help but clown around a little! (And I can’t help that someone took my shoes and put them away at the front entrance.)

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* For information on dancing boys, see this article: The Dancing Boys of Afghanistan

Afghanistan: The Women's Shelter

2011-05-31T09:56:00.078-04:00

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The shelter in Herat We were not allowed to take pictures of the girls' faces

The wife in the story gets harassed on the street by two men

The husband beats his young wife while the mother-in-law eggs him on and joins in

We did it! Our star performers after the show

Afghanistan: The play's the thing!

2011-05-24T09:02:00.030-04:00

Having finished the workshops sessions, we embark on a period of play development and rehearsal with a select group of our young performers. Our mission is to create a show about a relevant issue, which we will perform out in the community as a way to bring information to people in the most effective way -- straight to the heart and minds through entertaining live action played out right before you, that is, theater! The goal is to bring the show to villages out in the provinces, but it depends on security and which areas are deemed safe. Our performers are all Hazara, an ethnic group often discriminated against by Pashtuns and Tajiks. We ask our young performers if they would be comfortable performing in a Pashtun village. One of the girls blurts out, “Sure, we could do it, but afterwards they’d probably hang us!,” and they all giggle. Then Rohela speaks up and tells us: “When we choose to do theatre it is our task and duty to reflect on the problems and pains in society. It is not important who is the audience, if we have an opportunity to affect a good change in people and society it is our task and duty to do it." Rohela is thirteen years old.

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

In discussion with Monireh, the Afghan director, and with our young performers, we decide on the themes for our show. We are actually creating two separate shows. One by the girls to be performed for women, and one by the boys for the men. This creates flexibility to be able to perform in more restrictive places, and also gives us the opportunity to approach a theme from two different perspectives. Since we are supported by the U.S. Institute of Peace, we have been requested to do a show about conflict resolution. We decide to address the issue of family conflict and domestic violence.

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

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

- Photos from rehearsal -

The young wife gets harrassed
by some guys on the street,
and then accused by the mother-
in-law of enticing them

Rohela as the mother-in-law

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

Mother and daughter-in-law reconciliation

[Click on photo to view larger]

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

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

Afghanistan: Baba-jan and badan-jan

2011-05-01T13:13:00.016-04:00

We are living with our Afghan partner Monireh's family -- her sister Madiya, brother Reza (who are both in the workshops and the shows we are doing -- theater runs in the family), and then her mother and father. It's a typical Afghan house with a tiny courtyard behind a tall gate along a dirt road in the midst of Jabraeil, a village community right outside the town of Herat.

The father is really funny, he’s quite the clown! Good humor abounds in this household. He has decided I’m his American daughter, his sixth daughter after Nahib, Monirah, Tahira, Halima and Madiya (or actually I would be the first, since I’m older). He’s having a good time playing with this. “Dokhtar-jan”! he calls out (“daughter, dear”). Come here, time for breakfast, time for tea, time for joking around. So I call him “baba-jan.” I had learned that “baba” is how you say daddy in Dari, and “jan” is a term of endearment you add after a name, like saying “dear.” I give him a hard time and he threatens me with the fly swatter, all in good fun. Last night we were having tea and fruit after dinner, and he starts singing to me, a lullaby about “dokhtar” and “baba.” That’s so sweet! Joanna and Michael are juggling the oranges and putting on a show. Impromptu we start making percussive sounds, the father drumming on his big belly. Lots of laughter together. These are the precious moments!

This is an Afghan man with a good heart. We hear so much about women being oppressed, forced marriages, abusive husbands, horrible men. But of course not all men are like this, there are good happy loving homes and families too in Afghanistan. This is one of them. I can see that Sayed Hassan loves and appreciates his wife, Fatima, very much. Yesterday in the afternoon, while we were enjoying tea time together, he leaned his head on her shoulders and looked at her with adoring eyes. Then he tweaked her nose. Ever the jokester. Even if it’s an easy-going and open-minded family, it’s still a traditional house-hold, since the father is adamant the women must wear the head scarf with Michael there; and the mother does the cleaning up, while the father takes a nap. But then when I jumped in to do the dishes after lunch, and Michael took it upon himself to clean up after dinner, the father sprang into action and had to show how it’s really done. I thought to myself, here’s a first! An Afghan man doing dishes! I bet he’s never done this ever before, but he was quite swift so he might have some experience after all. And actually he does do household chores, he helps with the laundry and they do the cooking together.

You can click on photos to view larger

Everyday baba-jan goes to the market to get the greens for the day’s cooking, and then sits and chops them all up to make, for example, “ku ku” – like a vegetable patty, or quiche but without the crust. And let’s not forget the “badan-jan” – eggplant with tomato fried in a lot of oil. I normally hate eggplant but this is really good! And thank goodness, because it’s served every other meal.

Badan-jan with nan

But the best is the “bulani,” which are like pierogis filled with cooked greens or potato, and making this is a whole family affair – madar-jan flattens the dough, baba-jan puts the filling on, and sister Monireh readies them for the cooking and fries them up on the stove. And then I eat them! Yum!

Afghanistan: The students (PHOTOS)

2011-05-01T12:51:00.005-04:00

Sabera -- Mariam -- Sakina (Hasti)

Madiya -- Amina -- Samira

Anna and Joanna with Wahija

Our students giving us feedback on the workshop

Me and Mahboubeh

Hussein Hassan

<--
Zainab and Zahra and me

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Wahija, Zahra, Samira -- my best buddies!

Michael and the gang (Jafar, Amir Mahdi, and Ali)

Goofing off with Hassan, Mohammed, and Hussein

Lollipops!

Afghanistan: PHOTOS from the workshops!

2011-05-01T01:17:00.005-04:00

Click on photos to view larger!

Celebration!

Acting out a story from a poem

Acting out the Taliban...

Wahija in center, who loves the stilts, because they make her feel tall and strong

Afghanistan: The workshops and our amazing students!

2011-04-30T13:18:00.003-04:00

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We are partnering with a young theater company here in Herat called Simorgh (which means 'thirty birds' based on a Sufi legend about a great flock of birds on a journey to enlightenment, along the way bird after bird drop out and in the end only thirty remain...). Simorgh is forging ahead to build a future for theater in Afghanistan, a daunting task and what they have already accomplished is quite the feat. But more on the company later, now on to our talented youngsters!

For the first nine days here in Herat, we have been doing workshops with Simorgh's young company members and students, mostly girls age 12-20 and also some boys. They are so amazing! I am really impressed with their level of imagination and creativity and expressiveness. These are kids who have not had much exposure to theater as a medium in their culture (indeed such activity is generally frowned upon, and theater really doesn’t even exist). As children they are taught to be quiet, unnoticeable and have no opinions, especially the girls – and yet they are so spirited and jumping right in to play, game to try out whatever we throw at them. Some of the newer girls are very shy, but as the workshops progressed we could see that they got more comfortable and felt more free to express themselves, in action and in words.

On the final day, we had a conversation with the youngsters and asked them about their experience: what did you enjoy about the workshop, what did you discover, and how can it be useful to you in your lives? How do you think theater can be of value to the community? I was blown away by their responses! They are so young but already so wise.

Theater, they tell us, serves to reflect our society and its problems in order for us to better see ourselves… Zainab points out that after working on different characters, she now feels she can better understand people, and this is how theater can be useful: to help us understand each other. Mahbouba said that she discovered how she can connect with people, beyond her small circle of friends – through theater she can make a connection with the audience and thereby with people in the community.
Zahra describes how men traditionally have more power than women in the society, but in this workshop she felt equal to the men, everybody on the same level, free and comfortable. Marzia points out that she even forgot the boys were there!

The fact that both boys and girls are working and playing together in the workshop is not without controversy. One girl, unfortunately, was not allowed to continue because her brothers discovered there were boys in the workshops, and even though her mother had agreed to her participating, the brothers as men had the veto power to decide what their sister may or may not do. On the final day, she nonetheless snuck out of the house and joined us for a last chance to play.

Marzia loved yelling her name out, throwing it far over the mountain, because, she told us, it was the first time she had ever said her name out loud, and it felt so good to know that “Yes, I am Marzia!”

Little Wahija liked the stilt-walking best. Why?, we ask her. “Because I stand tall and feel in control of everything! It makes me feel more confident.” Wahija is a very small girl, she is twelve years old but really looks eight. Everybody loved the stilt-walking. It’s amazing the power such a simple activity can have. And everyone loved the acrobatics too.

Mahbouba tells us she really saw value in the exercise of passing the mask that transforms. It’s the same in life, she points out, because when one is in an argument with someone, they pass on to you their angry mask which you take on, but you don’t have to keep it, you can change it to one of joy before you get home!

Wow. I have to say I am shocked and awed by their astute insights. And these were just a few examples. It is so affirming to hear how enthusiastic they felt about the work we’ve done together, how much they got out of it, how eager they are to continue, and the insights they gained. It makes me feel like we truly have offered something worthwhile and made a difference. This moment to me was the culmination, the highlight, of the entire project. (And this was less than two weeks into the program. Who knows what amazing things will happen in the next few weeks!?)

--
Then we ask them what the problems are that make it difficult to do theater in Afghanistan, and they all shout out in unison: “Everything!!!”

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Afghanistan: Another day in Jebraeil

2011-04-30T13:05:00.001-04:00

Another little missive from April 10:

Hello,
Today had a day off. Good, cuz I was sick all night. It was probably the home-made yoghurt the father made for me. But didn't last too long.

We went for a walk around the neighborhood and down the street with the market and little shops. I had my camera with me and we were taking pictures. I bet they never had tourists here before! We definitely stirred up some attention. But all in a good way. A man in his breadshop called us over to take photos, and we checked out how they made bread – they bake it deep in a hole in the floor and then lift it out, flat and round and hot and fresh – and we got some to eat. Mmm, naan! As we continued on, a man here and there would come up to Michael to engage in conversation and ask where we're from and whenever we would stop to chat, a crowd would gather to check us out. (I noticed they never addressed me or Joanna; and I assume they didn’t because that would be inappropriate, as in this culture men are not supposed to talk to women they do not know on the street.) School had let out and the street was filling with little school girls in ‘nun’s habits’ eating ice cream, and soon a bunch of them were gathered around us, giggling and whispering, and following us down the street like we were the Pied Piper. But whenever Joanna pulled out the camera they hid their faces in their hijabs. You can't take pictures of women, not even when they're little girls!

As we got home, the neighbors' kids were out on the street playing and we yucked it up with them again, as we had before, it's become a game of making faces and playing monster. This adds to the novelty of our presence, I’m sure, because I imagine no adult here, and definitely no woman, would play like that with them and make funny movements and faces -- on the street! Crazy foreigners! After we had entered our house (behind a large iron gate, most Afghan houses are hidden behind a wall and gate), there was a loud banging. I opened up, and there were three of the school girls again. Don't know how they found us (we had left them behind further down the street), but I guess it's not that difficult, since we're the only foreigners in town. Come to the market with us! they shouted. Come, let's go! Now? Yes, now! Well, maybe another day, ok? We were actually quite tired at this point, and really needed a nap. Still, I would've been game to go, but I can't go off by myself, even in the entourage of little school girls. That was so funny, though, and sweet, that they were so excited at meeting us that they came to get us to go to the market with them. Badan mebinim! (See you later!)

Later in afternoon, someone was coming over to fix the refrigerator that wasn't working (although they had just bought it). We were told the man was Taliban so we better stay in our rooms and not show ourselves. Well, the man was Pashtun, and to our hosts (who are Hazara) any Pashtun man who wears a turban is Taliban, which of course isn't true, but I guess it's good to play it safe!

We also spoke with a young man who was here in Herat on visit, but works down in the Helmand province (next to Kandahar) as an interpreter for the US Marines. He said it was very dangerous, for him as someone working for the Americans, and for us if we wanted to go there, because [finger across throat], they'll behead us all. And it doesn't help that he's Hazara. They don't like us cuz we're foreigners? Joanna asks. Pashtuns don't like anyone who's not Pashtun, he says.

Another fun day in Afghanistan!

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Afghanistan: Hello from Herat!

2011-04-28T05:47:00.001-04:00

Update from April 7:

Salam! Chestor asti? Khob astom! Here I am in Herat, and am picking up some good Dari phrases. After a month of living here, I’ll be speaking like a native. Not quite. But little by little, able to do some simple communication.

We are living with our theater hosts’ family. Monirah, the director of Simorgh, the theater company we're working with here in Herat, is fantastic. She’s 26 years old and has already produced several plays and films, together with her husband Hakim. Well, actually they’re not quite married yet, though they finally got engaged, a bit of a scandal here. She’s a free-thinking modern young woman, but is having to adhere to local customs (which she gripes about). To that end, she dresses in the chador whenever she is out on the street, like all women here. This is basically a large sheet, black or with white flowers or sometimes grey, swept around the body and held tight with the hands under the chin, so only the face shows. There are still women who wear the blue burqa, too. When inside, all women (and girls over 9) still wear a head scarf if there is a male present who is not close family. So because Michael is in the house, her mother and herself and her younger sister wear head scarves, but otherwise they wouldn’t. Joanna and I don’t bother when in the house. Since her father said to me: “You’re like my daughter!” I figure we’re family now and I don’t have to. And Michael is family to us too (me and Joanna). So there. But the grand father came for a visit the other night, and the father ran up to me quickly and said: “Anna, Anna!” and gestured to put my head scarf on. Because the grand father is very old school, very conservative. He does not, by the way, approve of Monirah’s choice of husband (to be), and has not spoken to the family for a long time.

In any case, the family is very welcoming to us, the father is really great and good-humored, and the mother is sweet. They cook us fabulous Afghan food. We are eating like kings -- yummy vegetable dishes, salad, yoghurt and great bread. We eat on the floor on a plastic table cloth (called the ‘sofra’), that’s the Afghan way. And drink lots of green tea – wherever we go, we’re offered tea, even in a shop.

We are in a new suburb to Herat called Jabraiel (it's being built as we speak, everywhere partial structures in process of construction). It’s where all the Hazara live. The Hazara are an ethnic people in Afghanistan and are very much discriminated against, especially by the Pashtuns (who consider themselves the only true Afghans). The Hazare are supposedly descendants of Djengis Khan, and have Asian features. The day after we arrived was a holiday and Monirah’s family and many many others went to a picnic area near a mountain. There some Tajik guys took a photo of a Hazara girl (and you do not take photos of girls!), so her brothers asked them to stop and to delete the pics; some soldiers came up (who happened to be Tajik too) and suddenly opened fire, and two random Hazaras got killed. This was extremely upsetting to Monirah, who started crying when she heard. It’s distressing because this kind of thing happens a lot. Of course, it didn’t help that we were in the midst of an intense political discussion about the state of Afghanistan and its future, as she got the news.

The day we arrived is when they had protests because of the Koran-burning. However, it was pretty small here in Herat (although later I was told there were up to 3,000 protesters and that is still quite a crowd). We were advised not to hang about town for a couple of days. But everything is fine. Things are peaceful here. It’s down in Kandahar, and in the east, Jalalabad, and now up in the north too, Mazar-i-Sharif, where the Taliban are causing trouble. We walk down the street and nobody bothers us, although we got lots of looks. There aren’t any other foreigners here, so we are quite a sight. And Joanna and I are not wearing the chador-sheets, although we of course wear long tunics and loose pants, or long skirts, with head scarf. People stare at us like we’re aliens, men, women and children alike. Some looks may appear a bit disapproving and hostile, from some men in particular, but mostly it’s just shock and awe. In general, people here are friendly and welcoming.

We have started teaching workshops, and are working with a group of very talented young girls, age 12-20, and some boys, too. It is really fantastic that there’s a theater group here, I must say, and with so many girls, and that their families let them come and be part of it! Considering how conservative and traditional the area is, one might expect any such activity to be entirely suppressed and certainly if involving girls. For sure, engaging in theater here is not without controversy, without its risks and problems. Theater is certainly not considered a respectable activity here, let alone profession (nor did it use to be in the US or Europe, and perhaps still isn't) and definitely not something respectable young girls should partake in. Women are not supposed to show themselves (off) in public, so to be on a stage and be looked at – unthinkable! And who knows what kind of untoward activities they’ll have to engage in… Moving their bodies – scandalous! Being loud and expressive – outrageous! And, God forbid, intermingling on stage with the opposite sex. At Kabul University where they have an acting department, there is not one single female acting student among about 200 male students. In fact, Monirah's sister Tahira is just now entering the university and she will be the first female acting student ever! Go Tahira!

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Afghanistan: Welcome to the Land of the Brave

2011-04-28T05:08:00.005-04:00

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Coming in to Kabul, we fly over craggy snow-covered mountains. These are the Hindukush, and I can almost touch them. Then the mountains lose their peaks and turn brown and sandy. Groupings of walled compounds form geometric patterns on the plains. Are they meant to hold animals or people? I can’t make out any houses. But everything’s the same color, mud and sand, and blends in. When we land we are surrounded by the mountains, and greeted by a gigantic sign that reads: “Welcome to the Land of the Brave.”

As we drive into the city from the airport, we pass distressed or ruined buildings mixed with many new structures under construction. And lots of billboards advertising things. Even a digital one with filmed commercials! Which seems incongruously modern. Most buildings are simple drab one-story structures, and the roads are of dirt and stone. And there are donkeys pulling carts. But also plenty of fancy cars. I see some women still in burqas, and men in traditional clothing (long tunic with loose pants and turban or traditional cap, or the pakol wool hat made famous by Massoud, the Mujaheddin 'Lion of Panjshir').

Most women wear a scarf loosely slung around their head with some hair visible in front. That’s not so strict compared to what I’ve seen elsewhere in the Muslim world where the head scarf is tightly wound around forehead, cheek and chin. From burqa to a loose scarf is quite a jump. But, as mentioned, there are still women wearing the burqa. At the airport, there was a young girl without a head scarf and sporting Mahnolo Blanik-like high heels, looking very hip and beautiful. She was next to an equally hip and handsome-looking young guy in jeans and T-shirt. The new Afghan generation? I wonder if once she went outside she put on a scarf. I put mine on as I stepped off the plane.

I’m not getting much of an impression of the city as a city at first. I think we’re still winding our way in to Kabul when suddenly we stop: here we are at the hotel. Huh, where? Seems we’re in the middle of nowhere. This is Kabul? Apparently we are already right in the center of the city. But the road is still dirt and stone. We’re in front of a non-descript building with a little door on the side – would never guess this was a hotel! Perhaps this is a good thing. Hotels have been known to get bombed.

Next day we go to the Ministry of Economy and the Ministry of Foreign Affairs so that Bond Street Theatre can register as an NGO (Non-Governmental Organizations, which most humanitarian orgs are). These buildings are more stately and there’s also a newly constructed shopping mall. Soldiers and police are stationed in the area holding machine guns, with one mounted on top of a truck. A gigantic photo of Karzai flanked by children graces the side of a building.

Later in the afternoon, we go for a walk in the neighborhood where we’re staying, which is in the Shar-e-Naw section of Kabul. There’s a park and a cinema at its entrance. Men hang out on the street corner as money changers, waving large bunches of bills. Apparently they are legit. We go in a little clothing shop to check out the wares, and the shopkeeper offers us tea. Wherever you go, you always get tea. On our way back, we stop at a breadmaker’s shop on the corner. There are piles of flat round “nan” (the traditional Afghan bread, which kind of look like pizza without any toppings) piled up in the window. The shopkeeper is sitting in the window too, while behind him young men prepare more nan. I want some, I exclaim, and take out my dictionary so I can ask for bread. The old man puts one large round nan in a bag and hands it to me. He waves with his hand and won’t take any money. How much, I try to ask, consulting my dictionary again. They all laugh and he good-naturedly waves his hand again. Oh, it’s a gift! Tashakor!

We eat it right away as we walk down the street, it’s so fresh and warm, mmmm! Then turning onto the street to our hotel, we come upon the kids begging whom we had seen earlier and I give the rest to them. The next day three other street kids follow us, one of them the same boy I had seen before, still smiling and sprightly with lots of charm. I can’t shake them and eventually start goofing with them – since the boy keeps talking to me and I have no idea what he is saying, I start making the same sounds back for fun, speaking gibberish, which they all find very funny so we play with this for a bit. Then I make 'batman' eyes with my fingers, and he reciprocates by turning one of his eyelids inside out and excitedly gesturing for me to look, “Madame!” Eww! He giggles. When we pass a street vendor, I decide to get them each a plate of dumplings (served with tomato sauce). They’re happy, we shake hands and I go on my merry way with Joanna and Michael.

We’re on our way to a dinner meeting and figured it’s close enough we can walk, and I’m pretty sure of the way. No problem. Unfortunately, I end up leading us all astray into a no man’s land of desolate streets in the complete opposite direction from where we should be. And it’s getting dark. Uh-oh. That really was not so smart. Luckily a friendly soldier and a nice young Afghan man on a bike come to our rescue and lead us down to a main thoroughfare where they get us a reliable cab. It is not advisable to take taxis as foreigners but it is better than walking the streets of Kabul in the dark! And the adventures have begun.

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AFGHANISTAN!

2011-04-28T04:49:00.002-04:00

I'm in Afghanistan! Once more onto the breach...! This time, I am traveling together with Joanna and Michael of Bond Street Theatre and we are forging ahead to bring theater to isolated communities in Afghanistan in partnership with the Afghan theater company Simorgh which is based in the town of Herat. Our focus is conflict resolution in the community. We aim for peace in Afghanistan, one play at a time! We will be here from March 27 to May 7. Here is the press release to give an overview of the project.

* * *

FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE

THEATRE BRINGS NEWS TO RURAL WOMEN IN AFGHANISTAN

Bond Street Theatre, New York’s Pioneer Artistic-Humanitarian Theatre Company, Receives US Embassy Support to Use Theatre to Reach Isolated Communities

New York, NY, March 15, 2011 - Bond Street Theatre returns to Afghanistan this month to help revitalize Afghanistan’s theatrical arts, and promote the use of theatre to bring information on health, civic rights, and other issues to areas of high illiteracy (90% for women, 63% for men, UN Report).

The 18-month Theatre for Social Development Project, supported by the US Embassy in Afghanistan and the US Institute for Peace, involves month-long training sessions with four select theatre groups in Herat, Kabul, Jalalabad and Kandahar in creative and administrative skills. The goal is to build the capacity of local theatre organizations to provide educational services on an ongoing basis to their communities, and carry information to isolated areas, with special focus on women and children.

The gap in access to information is particularly acute in poor and rural communities, and among women who are more apt to be illiterate and isolated from news. Theatre is a lively and effective means to present information in an understandable visual and verbal manner.

The Bond Street Theatre team – Joanna Sherman, Michael McGuigan, and Anna Zastrow – departs March 27 to begin work with Simorgh Theatre in Herat and returns May 9th. Having conducted arts-based programs in Afghanistan since 2003, the New York-based theatre company stands out amidst the country’s most committed cultural ambassadors.

The Theatre for Social Development program will bring mobile theatre performances to some of Afghanistan’s most isolated regions, and provide creative and motivational training for women and youth, and a platform for public understanding of crucial social issues.

The theatre arts also serve as an effective means to ease the traumatic effects of war and poverty by providing a voice to the voiceless, a safe space to explore the issues, and the mouthpiece to share information and personal stories. Programs that stimulate creative problem solving and self-expression are scarce at a time when the country most needs a visionary new generation.

Integral to the project, Bond Street Theatre is creating a Training Manual to be published in 2012 that will offer artists and aid organizations a wide range of theatre-based methods applicable to development programs.

This program is made possible by a generous grant from the US Embassy in Afghanistan (Department of State) and the United States Institute for Peace, an organization dedicated to preventing and ending international conflict and promoting the field of peacebuilding.

Bond Street Theatre's History in Afghanistan
Immediately following September 11th, a Bond Street team headed to the Afghan refugee areas in Pakistan to entertain and uplift children in the refugee schools.

While in camps, Bond Street met Exile Theatre, a group of Afghanistan's finest actors who had fled the Taliban. The two groups began an eight-year mutually beneficial relationship that led to their critically acclaimed production, Beyond the Mirror, depicting Afghan life in wartime as told through first-hand stories. The performance was presented in Japan, Afghanistan and USA (2005 and 2009).

"The first collaboration between an Afghan and an American theater company, it has a quiet authority, even delicacy, that is truly powerful," stated Margo Jefferson in The New York Times.

Bond Street's Artistic-Humanitarian Relief Work since 2003 has demonstrated a firm commitment to the Afghan people and their future. Their work has included programs for girls, women, children and teachers in Afghan schools and orphanages, work with Kabul University theatre students, and educational programs for over 10,000 children in remote villages in northern Afghanistan.

Bond Street Theatre, founded in 1978, draws on the physical performance styles from many cultures to create its original theatre works. Recipient of a MacArthur Award, the company also receives governmental and foundation support, and has performed in major theatres and festivals worldwide. The company is dedicated to theatre that crosses borders and bringing theatre to areas of conflict, crisis and poverty.

For more information or to schedule an interview in the US or in Afghanistan, please contact Olivia Harris at 212.254.4614 or olivia@bondst.org.
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HAITI: Performing in the camps

2011-03-27T10:00:00.008-04:00

We also presented an entertaining and uplifting show for the camp communities. It's called The Flying Head! Based on an Native American folk tale, it's a show about a village that is terrorized by a horrible monster and one woman who stands up and rallies the community together to defeat it. The "monster" is made out of blue tarp and plastic bags and looks quite silly. The whole show is silly, but with an underlying message of hope and resilience in the face of diversity as long as you take personal responsibility to find a solution and come together as a community.

My favorite performance, I have to say, was at a little school in Jacmel, where the students jumped up and down screaming with excitement at our antics! It was amazing! This happened whenever we did any of our acrobatic tricks and they went wild when Morlon launched into his sprightly slapstick silliness. It was such a surprise visit (arranged very suddenly and last minute), and I have a feeling they had never seen anything like it before in their lives!

We performed and did workshops with the kids in about five different camps in the Port-au-Prince area: Camp Matissant, Camp Bobin and Bristout, Camp Jean-Marie Vincent; and also Camp Pinchinat in Jacmel.

One of the first camps we visited was Camp Pinchinat. Although in most camps I have seen people live in fairly small tents or just tarps hung over some sticks, in this camp there were large green military tents but each tent apparently houses up to five families! Crammed together in this space, there is no privacy whatsoever. There have been a lot of problems and a lot of tension in the camp.

We walk through the camp, and a woman sitting outside of her tent spots us and shouts out from twenty feet away, "I am hungry, give me money!" A strong sense of dependency and entitlement has set in. You are a foreigner, you are rich, give me. A foreigner in the camp is associated with material aid. Certainly no one expects a foreigner to come into the camp just to play!

As we walk down the path, I see a little girl come running towards us with outstretched arms, full of excitement. She runs straight up to me and throws her arms around me! Then she continues on with us, holding my hand. So many of the children climb up in our arms, clinging to us and not wanting to let go. There is such an apparent need for love and attention.

More notes on our camp experiences to follow....

HAITI: To be continued!

2011-03-27T09:42:00.001-04:00

We're already fast at work to make it possible to return and continue our work with FAVILEK. To work on their new show about women's experiences in the aftermath of the earthquake.

I joke with them that I'll call up Obama and drum up some support, he'll make it happen. We'll perform at the White House together! At this there's laughter and excitement and applause, and suddenly they all launch into an Obama song: "Obama, Obama, si ca fait la pluie ou bon temps!" Basically, "Obama, in good or bad times!" Meaning Obama is there for us and will take care of things. If only!

Seriously, we wish to continue working together and we at Bond Street Theatre will work hard to find the support to bring FAVILEK to the United States to present their show here, and all over the world. Bond Street did it with the Exile Theatre from Afghanistan, we can do it with the women of FAVILEK, too.

We are really excited about the prospect of our continued collaboration.

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We feel so much stronger now!

2011-03-26T17:40:00.006-04:00

Working with the women of FAVILEK has been amazing. On the first day of workshop, Sylvie, an older woman, comes up to me when she arrives and gives me a big kiss on each cheek. Such joy and spirit and love! There is a sense of great enthusiasm and excitement for our work together.

In the midst of all the playfulness, it's easy to forget that these women are not young spring chickens, and that they have endured a lifetime of intense hardship. Little by little, tidbits of their traumatic past come to the fore. Suddenly, Suzette excuses herself from an exercise because her knees hurt. But it's not because she is getting old or out of shape. No, she happens to have bullets lodged in her knee from being shot during the coup back in the 90's! She proceeds to pull down her pants and show me the deep scars on her hip from her other bullet wounds. Many of the women have scars, I notice. Maricia injured her arm in the earthquake, and now there's a big chunk missing in her bicep. She hesitates to do certain exercises, but we suggest adjustments and she sees she can still participate -- and then she goes for it with gusto!

Maricia triumphs on top

We start the workshops off with warm-up games for fun and play and energy. We do trust exercises such as leading a blind partner, running blindly into another's arms with all your might, and letting yourself fall trusting that the group is there to catch you. Not only are these 15 artist members of FAVILEK learning to strengthen their core ensemble as a theater group, but they have committed to share this training with other women and girls in their own sessions. So we try to include creative exercises that are useful for psychosocial support, to build self-esteem, confidence and empowerment, as well as for theatrical work. We explore physical and emotional expression through mime and movement play and we do simple acrobatics, too.

But mostly, we work a lot on focus and cohesion as an ensemble. We have everyone walk around within a designated space focusing on being aware of themselves, the space and each other. We then work on choreographic movement and on moving together as a chorus. First, the women are scattered and unfocused and all over the place. There is no purpose to their movement or engagement. But then a beautiful transformation takes place as they start to develop a shared sensitivity with the ability to create powerful images together. Christina described it this way: "imagine the transformation of 15 individuals walking around like psych wards patients in nonsensical circles within a square on the floor to 15 empowered, strong women who command the space and move as one." Well, it's an apt description in a way. And the women felt the difference.

At the end of our three and a half days of workshops, we sit down together in a circle to talk about the experience. How do you feel now, what did you gain, what did you enjoy? They exclaim: "We feel so much stronger now!" Individually, and as an ensemble. Now we feel like we can do anything. Merina, who's quite the spitfire, tells us how here in Haiti things can get dangerous, there are demonstrations and shootings, and now we are strong to run and to fight! Wow.

Grandma Sylvie, the eldest, walks up to me and puts her arms around my hips and lifts me up. And she can easily! As if to demonstrate her newfound strength. And then she cradles me like a baby and sings to me. She then goes to Josh to lift him (and Josh is a big guy), and she probably would have done it, but Josh preempts her action and swings her up in his arms instead. And after that they dance.

"Voulez-vous danser? Oui, danser!" I discovered last time I was in Haiti how much people like to sing and dance, and Favilek is no different. So I introduce this little dancing game I learned from the gals in Grande Goave. And we had a blast with that. "Alors, fais comme ca!"

Then the women teach me and Christina a song from their last show, which was really beautiful, and sad. But at least it ends on an upbeat note with "la vie est belle" or "life is beautiful."

x

Get up, Stand Up! Take action!

2011-03-26T13:49:00.001-04:00

"Why do you do theater?," I ask Bazelais, the leader of FAVILEK. She tells me: "Pour nous faire passer notre sensations de ce que nous avons subi." That is, to have an outlet for our feelings of what we have endured.

In our first meeting together, the women speak to us about their experiences and about their expectations and dreams for the future and for our work together.

"What we have experienced is very difficult. We want to show others in other countries. We want to go there in person and present our experience to them [not by video, not by disconnected reports, but live in the flesh, human to human] -- ourselves, our bodies, our faces, our emotions. People cry when they see our performance."

They want people to know, to feel, and to take action and help change the situation.

FAVILEK has tried to reach out to the authorities, national and international, through regular avenues of communication to bring attention to the situation of women in Haiti, but to not avail. There is a great disconnect between the talking heads of the government and the UN, and the people. A lot of lofty talk and little action. Who is really listening to what the Haitian people have to say? And especially Haitian women. They do not feel their voices are heard. And this is why FAVILEK is doing theater. As a way to have a voice, to express themselves, to reach out and be heard.

And so at the end of the 1990’s, they created a theater piece to speak out about their suffering as victims of political sexual violence called “Ochan pou tout fanm yo bliye” or “Tribute to all forgotten women, which they toured all over Haiti.

Now the women of FAVILEK want to create a new theater piece about the earthquake and its aftermath.

FAVILEK would like us to help them come to the United States and present their show. We would love to! And we can do it! But first we are here in Haiti and let’s see what we can do together here to start off. We propose to do workshops in which we will share tools and techniques, different theatrical exercises that can empower their work. Does this interest you? Yes! We will share what we know, and you can share with us your experience. You can teach us your songs. At this there is great excitement and clapping. This is what we propose, but what is important is that you tell us what you need, what you would like from us, we are here for you, to help facilitate your work.

So it is agreed we will begin with workshops and then continue on to work on their new show.

Our collaboration with FAVILEK is faciliated by Bureaux des Avocats Internationaux. BAI is the Haiti-based affiliate of the Institute for Justice & Democracy in Haiti, which fights for the human rights of Haiti’s poor. BAI is working to empower womens’ organizations such as FAVILEK to advocate for victims’ rights, to help report cases and pursue justice. For more information, go to: http://ijdh.org/about/bai.

KOFAVIV is another women’s group helping victims, with whom we are hoping to collaborate. KOFAVIV stands for Komisyon Fanm Viktim Pou Viktim: Women’s Commission of Victims for Victims. Both FAVILEK and KOFAVIV were started by women who were victims of rape and assault in the political unrest that followed the 1991 coup. These women are determined to make a change and are fighting tirelessly.

The two organizations reach out to the women in the camps and help them get medical assistance, offer counseling for psychological support, help victims report their cases to the authorities and fight to get the perpetrators prosecuted.

When we first connected with FAVILEK, we expressed interest in going into the camps directly to work with the women there. But as Annie Gell, our partner at BAI, tells us: "With the current volatile situation and general resource-poor conditions in the camps, KOFAVIV and FAVILEK will not be able to commit to accompanying your group into camps at this time. FAVILEK in particular has expressed concern that bringing a troupe into certain camps would put FAVILEK members at risk because they will then be seen as having access to resources, making them greater targets for violence or theft."

Most support meetings take place outside of the camps because of the sensitive nature of the work and the risk of retaliation.

We are doing our workshops in the courtyard of Heartland Alliance, an NGO providing resources and support to several local grassroots groups, such as FAVILEK.

The heart of the matter

2011-03-26T12:19:00.003-04:00

Our main focus in Haiti is to work with a woman's group to contribute to their efforts to combat the alarming rise of gender-based violence, i.e., rape and assault against women.

Sexual violence has long been a serious issue in Haiti. Rape was not officially criminalized until 2005 (yes, you read that right, 2005!). Before that it was apparently only a crime if you were a virgin. Rape and sexual assault have a long history of being used as a weapon of terror during political repression in Haiti. To get a further idea, take a look at these two reports: Rape in Haiti: A Weapon of Terror

In Haiti's chaos, unpunished rape was norm

Assaults have increased at an alarming rate in the chaos following the earthquake, especially in the tent camps where thousands of people are crammed together in increasingly volatile conditions. Gangs of armed men roam the camps. Most of the rapes occur at night when girls have to walk through the camp in the dark to go to the toilet. The makeshift shelters themselves are vulnerable -- a tent or a tarp slung over some sticks does not prevent an attacker from entering.

Few victims report their assault because they fear it will further endanger them and their families, as there is little likelihood of their attacker getting caught and they risk retaliation.

Girls as young as three or four have been raped, and (incomprehensibly) even younger. The perpetrators do not discriminate. A 58-year old woman tried to intervene and was herself then raped by several men who pistol-whipped her and fired their guns in the air, warning anyone against trying to stop them or against reporting to the authorities.

These men act with impunity. Because they can.

But who rapes a three-year old? Who are these men?!

Does humanity completely evaporate in circumstances of severe crisis?

Where are the good men? Clearly, the majority of Haitian men do not engage in these horrid actions. But enough of them seem to that it appears to have become epidemic.

It is our goal to reach out to the male population as well to explore positive outlets to express frustration. Some thugs are just rotten eggs, and the problem is that the prisons collapsed in the earthquake and thousands of convicts escaped and are now infiltrating the camps. But many young men are simply discouraged and lost and have potential to be good young leaders – let’s reach them before the gangs get to them!

What is ultimately needed in order for the situation to improve for women in Haiti is a change of attitude. There is a deep-seated culture of blaming and shaming the victim when it comes to sexual assault in Haiti. This is of course not exclusive to Haiti, unfortunately it's the tendency all over the world (including the United States, where I thought we had moved way beyond this mentality, but judging by the recent case of a gang-rape of an 11-year old in Texas and the community's subsequent response, I was clearly mistaken).

In my research leading up to our project, I've come across so many stories of young girls in Haiti who have been raped and subsequently told by the doctor or by the police that it was their own fault, because they wore a short skirt or had a big behind or in some other way must have 'invited' the assault. Girls have resorted to wearing several pairs of jeans under their skirts to make it more difficult for any attackers. Sometimes a girl who reports her rape will be victimized again by the police, because, well, if she just got raped, then she's a slut. It's horrific. No wonder no woman dares turn to the authorities.

Many of these women who have survived sexual assault are at risk of being victimized multiple times, and it runs across generations -- grandmothers, mothers and daughters. You have no sense of safety, because you know it might happen again. And there's nothing that can be done. There's no police, there's no authority, there's nowhere to go.

Exacerbating the situation is the fact that aid organizations have stopped food aid to the camps. They don't want to create dependency and undermine the revival of the local market. Haiti needs to find its way back to a thriving community of commerce and self-sufficiency. Yes, this is true, this is a problem, but the fact is the people in the camps still need the help and desperately so. You can't just cut them off cold turkey!

The result is that many girls and women have been forced to trade sex for food in order to survive. In fact, I've heard stories of aid workers demanding sex in return for the help they are giving out!

Sources of further reading, if what I have said here hasn't outraged you enough:

Our Bodies Are Still Trembling

Rape on the Rise in Haiti's Camps

Rape in Haiti: Women, Girls Detail Violent Attacks in Aftermath of Earthquake

Aftershocks: Welcome to Haiti's Reconstruction Hell

Amnesty International: Haiti-Sexual Violence Increasing

I recommend this video: Amnesty Int'l: Women Speak Out Against Rape

But not all is lost. There are groups of women who have banded together to fight for justice and take positive steps to effect change. One such group is FAVILEK, which stands for Women Victims Get Up Stand Up!

And the way they want to fight is through the forum of theater! To get up, stand up on the stage and speak out for the world to hear.

Port-au-Prince

2011-03-22T22:00:00.002-04:00

So we arrive in Port-au-Prince and we actually don't even know where we're gonna stay! We were supposed to lodge with someone in a private house on Delma 75 but there was a bit of a snafu with the arrangements. Luckily, we eventually found a nice and simple little hotel right near where our partner BAI is located -- the Bureaux des Avocats Internationaux, which is facilitating our partnership with the women's groups. Convenient.

And as it turns out the space where we end up holding our workshops -- the Heartland Alliance -- is not too far away either. So we decide to just stay at the hotel for the whole time. It’s not cheap, but it could be worse. We get a deal from the hotel manager, Reggie, our new friend. And it’s very central on avenue Lalue. In fact, we can even walk to our workshop space, which we do a couple of times. But usually we take a cheap and local taxi ride.

Port-au-Prince is not as dangerous to us as I had come to expect from news reports and other accounts. We had thought we had to hire a driver and a car in order to get around, which is really expensive (most everything is quite expensive actually in Haiti, especially transportation and accommodation due to price gouging of short supply and high demand... and the presence of lots of rich foreign aid workers). We end up not hiring a driver and just relying on walking or taxi. I always prefer to travel locally anyway if possible.

We have an easier time because we have trusty Morlon with us, our Haitian team member! I met Morlon last September when I was in Grande Goave with Clowns Without Borders. He was one of our trainers in the workshop we did, and he was so great that I immediately thought of him as we prepared this project -- why not have him join us! So he's performing in our show with us and co-teaching workshops. And, of course, translating.

With Morlon leading the way we can safely walk around most anywhere, although not everywhere. And of course he negotiates with the taxi driver for us, since our Kreyol is not so good. I speak French, which most Haitians do as well, but not all.

In the beginning, especially the couple of days before Morlon joined us, I did most of the communicating for the group. So I would order dinner for Josh and Christina. What's funny with this is that everyone assumes Josh is Haitian (because he's black) and so the waiter was really perturbed by the fact that he didn’t order for himself. He looked askance, passed Josh and threw out a comment at him, which we could only assume to mean, "Why are you letting this woman speak for you? What's up with that?!" Once he understood that we are all three Americans, and only I spoke French, all was well with the world again. But constantly people would speak to Josh in Kreyol and they were really confused by the fact that he claimed to not be Haitian, not even a little bit. Because he's black, so obviously he must be of Haitian descent. Obama is! (Apparently, a lot of Haitians think this!)

Then Morlon joined us and the wait staff was really confused. They thought we had dragged him in off the street out of mercy to offer him a meal. No, we don't know if they thought that, but they insisted in any case that we pay his meal, whereas breakfast was to be included with the room for all of us. He's staying with us, he's one of us, we insisted! It took a little while to sort that out. We have a sneaking suspicion this hotel is a hook-up hotel, since we mostly see couples. So probably everyone thinks Christina and I are there with our Haitian lovers!

But soon they realize otherwise, after we start rehearsing on the roof and showing off our clown antics! I'm not sure what they think of us now.

Saturday, a couple of days after arrival, we walked through the neighborhood and further on to find a market where we could buy a bucket. We walked all over without a problem, past vast tent camps in the downtown Champ de Mars area, and past the presidential building that lay in ruins. I bought some sugarcane, and a pair of flip-flops from a woman selling her goods on street. A couple of kids tagged along behind us for a while. I wish I had goofed with them more, usually I do, but here I was acting incognito (that is, not like a clown, it's not like I could hide that I stood out like a sore thumb, being a white foreigner!). When we got further downtown, Morlon did say we had to be careful, because robbers and other bad guys congegrate in this area, so it’s a bit more volatile.

On the way back we find ourselves in the midst of a demonstration. But it was a good demonstration in a mostly celebratory spirit – manifesting for human rights and dignity. Everyone waving Haitian flags, chanting, and carrying placards saying “Respect Our Children." A loudspeaker truck played music and then the national anthem, followed by soldiers and police. The maids of the hotel gathered on top of the roof looking on and dancing to the music. This was all very interesting to witness! I only wish this spirit of solidarity and support for human rights and for children was more apparent in the everyday life of Haiti. From all I hear, it's not the norm for many women and children in the camps and elsewhere. (Consider the long-time practice of "restaveks" -- child servants.)

Another night there were pre-carnival festivities. A gigantic truck was being set up with loudspeakers to play music that the crowd then follows while dancing down the street. We didn’t even know when we planned the timing of this trip that it would coincide with carnival, which we’ll have a chance to experience, very exciting! We wanted to go out and find another restaurant down the street as opposed to eating at the hotel restaurant. But all the street lights were out, and it was dark, and it really wasn't a good idea to be walking around out there at that point. Which revealed itself to be true, because when we stepped out for a moment, I was confronted by a very aggressive and hostile man. I didn't understand what he was saying, but politely greeted him with a "bon soir" which apparently aggravated him further. “Bon soir!?” He spat back with contempt and outrage. I don’t know what he was going on about but it wasn’t friendly and the situation was escalating. Morlon quickly emerged from the crowd and said let’s go back inside.

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

Goat -- and rice and beans!!!!!!! Sweets!

An overview of Haiti and Port-au-Prince post-earthquake

2011-03-20T23:18:00.011-04:00

Looking out through the window of the airplane, I see the barren hills of Haiti and understand now what is meant when people speak of the severe deforestation of the country, which has led to so many problems. I remember last time I arrived -- everything I had been told had led me to expect a totally barren country with no tropical vegetation -- and I was pleasantly surprised to see plenty of banana trees and other green plant life, where I was out in the countryside.

However, I realize this does not reflect the full reality. Compared to the lush tropical jungle on the Dominican side, Haiti is a desert. Last time I came to Haiti, I missed out on a window seat and so I saw nothing of the country as we flew in (although I did get a little glimpse of it as we departed). Now I see it. And later as we drive through the mountains, it becomes all the more apparent. The barrenness of the natural environment reflects something essential about the state of the Haitian nation.

As you can see below, the landscape is dotted with blue tarps and tents, showing how so many have lost their homes. People are either living in tents on the street next to the rubble of their destroyed homes, or crammed into one of the 1,300 camps that now exist in the Port-au-Prince area.

With this project centered in Port-au-Prince, where we spent most of our time during our three weeks, I got to witness on a much larger scale the extent of the earthquake's catastrophic impact. For my prior project, we had driven straight through the city and into the countryside to get to Grande Goave, and I didn’t really get a full sense of the destruction or how widespread it was. I remember thinking, well, hmm, it doesn't look quite as bad as I expected. But, of course, the devastation is in fact massive.
Everywhere there are cracked or semi-collapsed or completely destroyed buildings, interspersed with functioning structures. Our hotel is flanked on both sides by crumbled buildings.

The presidential palace and what remains of the cathedral.

Everywhere there are piles of rubble that people climb over and the cars drive around. Life goes on, business has resumed, while the city remains in ruins. Downtown Port-au-Prince, the center of commerce, is completely decimated with large blocks of nothing where before banks and other commercial buildings stood. In downtown Manhattan, we’ve got the gaping hole of the World Trade Center. Imagine many such flattened areas, and multitudes of crumbling structures. Downtown Port-au-Prince reminds me of pictures I’ve seen of war zones. Business has returned, not quite 'as usual,' but bustling enough, with vendors lining the streets and crowding in under semi-collapsed stories that might fall in any moment. I guess people are desperate enough to make a buck that they are willing to take the risk.

Not much debris has been cleared, indeed not much of anything seems to have been done to improve the situation even now over a year after the earthquake. Close to a million people still live in tent camps. And they will probably continue to do so for years. Look at how long it's taken here in the U.S. for the World Trade Center to begin to be rebuilt; and, apparently, there are still people living in temporary shelters post-Katrina! I predict it will take ten years for Port-au-Prince to recover from the devastation of the earthquake. If not more. Given the shaky political situation in Haiti with at present a more or less non-functioning government, there is no firm foundation in place for effective action to be taken. Thousands of international aid organizations have descended upon Port-au-Prince. But there seems to be no coordination between them and help does not appear to be reaching the people who need it most. Where's all the money and where's all the help? It's trickling down to the people but mostly held up by a formidable dam of bureaucracy.

All that remains is the cross

Haiti's political and social situation is so complex, I can't possibly fully explain it here. Decades of political unrest, extreme poverty, natural disasters. And now cholera. People are frustrated and desperate, stuck in the camps with no clear way out. No one has any work (unemployment hovers at 70 or 80%! Compare that to the U.S. today where it's around 8.9% and that is considered a crisis). There is growing frustration and resentment toward the international community. The fact that UN workers supposedly brought in the cholera has definitely not helped. From what I understand, some are frustrated at what they feel is an occupation of their country by outside forces. To many it looks like foreigners are once again just meddling in Haiti's affairs, as they have throughout its history. They resent all the foreign aid workers driving around in shiny SUV's making what appears to be only a marginal difference and yet making a lot of money. Still, most Haitians are frustrated by what they feel is a lack of sufficient intervention, desperately wanting and needing and depending on international aid and attention.

We can't take it anymore

In an October 2010 report, Refugees International criticized the aid agencies' dysfunctional efforts: "The people of Haiti are still living in a state of emergency, with a humanitarian response that appears paralysed. Gang leaders or land owners are intimidating the displaced. Sexual, domestic, and gang violence in and around the camps is rising. . . . Action is urgently needed to protect the basic human rights of people displaced by the earthquake. Living in squalid, overcrowded and spontaneous camps for a prolonged period has led to aggravated levels of violence and appalling standards of living." (http://www.refugeesinternational.org/policy/field-report/haiti-still-trapped-emergency-phase)

Against this backdrop, we arrive in Haiti with the objective to lift people’s spirits through an entertaining and inspiring performance and through creative workshops focusing on the healing nature of self-expression. It may seem the last thing people need, but in fact what we hope to contribute is crucial. We aim to help them recapture a sense of self, a sense of dignity and a sense of community -- that is, a sense of humanity!

Now don't despair from this depressing outline, I have beautiful things to report from Haiti!

And look, lo and behold, in the downtown area stands a beautiful new market place! Something has been accomplished, something new built!

Bond Street Theatre Haiti campaign

2011-03-20T14:00:00.003-04:00

Here is a note from Bond Street Theatre headquarters giving a brief overview of our venture, as part of our fundraising drive to support this recent project and to make it possible for us to continue our work. Check it out.

FAVELIK means Stand Up Get Up!

Dear Anna,

It was LOVE at first cartwheel...

Bond Street and the women of FAVILEK fell in love this past month in Port-au-Prince!

The FAVILEK women await Bond Street's return June 15th to continue working together!

We need to raise $3,875 more to get there!

Josh, Anna and Christina with the women of FAVILEK

Bond Street Theatre ensemble members Anna Zastrow, Christina Pinnell and Joshua Wynter just returned from working in HAITI with the daring women's group FAVILEK -- all survivors of rape and sexual assault who have joined together to speak out about the situation... through theatre!

Bond Street crew also gave performances in the congested tent camps of The Flying Head, a dynamic play about community action, and gave workshops for children, women, and other artists. We thank the Jewish-American Joint Distribution Committee (JDC) and our generous donors!

Our KICKSTARTER campaign needs your help in the next 4 days!

If we do not reach the full $5,000 goal, we do not receive any of the pledged funds.

Please donate HERE !

This past month, the Bond Street ensemble worked closely with FAVILEK (15 women), on the healing nature of self-expression, and expanding the group's theatrical talents.

With virtually no security, sexual violence has been increasing in the camps at an alarming rate. Girls as young as 3 years old have been victims of assault.

Ignored, rebuked, and even abused by authorities, FAVILEK wants to create a theatre piece about the issue and bring international attention to this horrific situation!

The women of FAVILEK have asked for our help!

We return to Haiti on June 15. Please help us get there!

"We make theatre to process our feelings of what we have endured and to reach out to the world,"

says FAVILEK co-founder Bazelais Yolande.

To read more stories from Haiti, visit our Blog

FAVILEK co-founder Maricia Jean stands tall

Stand Up Get Up for our FAVILEK partners...

Time is of the essence. Only 4 days left! Please make a donation today!

24 generous people have pledged a total of $1,125 so far. Please join them!

Passing this link on to friends and family is a great way to help our Haiti Project!

Thank you -- Anna, Christina, Josh, Maricia, Bazelais, and the entire BST-FAVILEK team

Tax deductible contributions can also be mailed to:
2 Bond Street, New York, NY 10012 USA

tel 212-254-4614 · fax 212-460-9378

www.bondst.org · info@bondst.org

Joanna Sherman, Artistic Director
Michael McGuigan, Managing Director
Lisa Dowda, Program Director

Bond Street Theatre, founded in 1976, draws on the musical and gestural arts of many traditions and the performance styles from many cultures to create original theatre works. The company is dedicated to creating theatre that crosses borders and bringing artistic-humanitarian aid to areas in need worldwide. Recipient of a MacArthur Award, the company has also received support from the Trust for Mutual Understanding, Theatre Communications Group, Andrew Mellon Foundation, Ford Foundation, CEC ArtsLink, Association of Performing Arts Presenters, JPMorgan Chase, National Endowment for the Arts, NYSCA, the US Bureau of Educational & Cultural Affairs, the US Institute for Peace, and others, and has performed in theatres and festivals worldwide.

HAITI: No More Trembling

2011-03-20T13:00:00.003-04:00

As I finally sit down to post here my thoughts and experiences during my recent project in Haiti, I realize I ought to include what I had written previously in an email missive before our departure, describing our project and our mission and what compelled us to go. It will serve as an introduction to what we did in Haiti and my further writing about it. Stay tuned to hear about the outcome!

BOND STREET THEATRE -- PROJECT HAITI: NO MORE TREMBLING

* * *

"Our Bodies Are Still Trembling:" Rape, a Major Crisis in Haiti

We are focusing our efforts on helping to address the situation of gender-based violence, which has long been a problem in Haiti, and has now become even more dire. Hundreds of thousands of people are crowded together as refugees in massive tent camps with little to no security. In the general chaos and disorder, rape and violence against women and girls has seen an alarming increase. This, horrifically, includes girls as young as three and women as old as 60. Current circumstances in Haiti do not provide for adequate care and support for rape victims, and this includes psychological support. These women and girls have no one to turn to nor little opportunity to express and process their experience. As one woman expressed: "The way you saw the earth shake, that is how our bodes are shaking now."*

"Get Up Stand Up:" Two Inspiring Women's Groups

We will be working with two Haitian women's organizations, KOFAVIV and FAVILEK, formed by women who are themselves survivors of rape and who are determined to help other women and girls who are at risk or have been victims of gender-based violence. When they first started, the women of Favilek (which, in Creole, stands for “Fanm Viktim Leve Kanpe,” i.e., Women Victims Get Up Stand Up) banded together to create a dramatic show about their painful experiences, which they toured around the country.

Kofaviv and Favilek are eager to have us come and do workshops with their members in order to provide them with an opportunity for self-expression, creative play and inspiration as part of a process to help them cope with their circumstances. Favilek is keen to create a new theatrical piece as a means to give the women a voice. They have asked for our help. They are eager to share their work and their experiences with us, and to have us assist them in the development of a creative performance, which will then be presented to the community.

"We Want a Voice:" Favilek Reaches Out

In New York, on January 12 of this year (the first anniversary of the earthquake) I met one of the founders of Favilek. Maricia came to speak about her experience and that of so many women in the camps. She told us how she had first been raped during the 1990s upheaval, when rape was used as a political weapon. Now, her daughter had been raped in the camps. This is not uncommon -- that grandmothers, mothers and daughters all become victims. She solemnly told us the women in Haiti feel that they have no voice and no avenue for speaking out, and no access to the powers-that-be to express their terrible circumstances. She wants to create a theater piece to address all of this, but lacks the means. I asked her, what do you need? Her answer took me by surprise. I expected her to simply ask for money. But she said what they need is a theater director, and help with how to go about creating a show. We said to her, we of Bond Street Theatre can be of assistance with this. We are committed to help. Hearing this, Maricia’s face lit up and she broke out in a big smile. It was the first time she smiled all evening.

Here is a woman who has been traumatized many times over and survived unimaginable horrors -- and what she asks for is the means to create theater. She understands the transformative power and purpose of theater, its capacity to heal, to promote recovery and social change.

Our mission in Haiti is to help Haitian women and girls find their voice and be heard.

* * *

* See the report from the Institute of Justice & Democracy, "Our Bodies Are Still Trembling: Haitian Women's Fight Against Rape" http://ijdh.org/archives/13361

Bond Street Theatre in Haiti 2/16-3/7/2011

2011-03-12T10:42:00.002-05:00

We are back from Haiti! Twenty intensive days of non-stop workshops, meetings and shows! Once we got things going it was full steam ahead. It's been a whirlwind, and I have not had any chance really to sit down and write about it here. So now, over the next week, I will be posting my notes and thoughts about our experiences this time around -- before I forget!

Stay tuned!

In meantime, a few of my fave pics!

Haiti Project: Feb-March 2011

2011-02-22T22:28:00.002-05:00

I am in Haiti again! This time as part of Bond Street Theatre. I have been working on this project as the coordinator for a few months now, and finally we have been able to make it happen. Three ensemble members, Christina Pinnell, Joshua Wynter and me, are joined by a Haitian artist, Morlon, to bring an entertaining and uplifting show to the camp communities, and to collaborate with KOFAVIV and FAVILEK, two women's groups working to combat gender-based violence.

From February 16 through March 7, we will be in Port-au-Prince, as well as a few days in Jacmel.

Stay tuned for updates coming soon!

--
Added: I figured I would post here our one-page overview that we wrote in anticipation of our project! Fyi...

WHO WE ARE and WHAT WE DO:

Founded in 1976, Bond Street Theatre is a non-profit organization dedicated to creating theatre as a means to peace and mutual understanding. The company creates innovative performances that cross cultural borders and initiates theatre-based projects for education, healing and empowerment in critical areas worldwide. In the past, Bond Street Theatre has brought its programs to Bosnia, Kosovo, Colombia, Afghanistan, India, and Burma among other countries.

Bond Street Theatre’s work is physical, visual, musical, and frequently non-verbal, having trained in the physical and gestural arts of many traditions. The ensemble uses striking theatrical forms such as stilts, masks, comedy, acrobatics, mime, circus arts, puppetry, dance, and many types of music.

HAITI PROJECT:

Bond Street Theatre will bring a three-week program of performances and workshops to the displaced families living in tent camps in Port-au-Prince, using theatre and theatre-based methods to heal, empower and improve life skills, and as a means to help the community recover its joy and hope.

Bond Street Theatre will focus on issues facing women and girls in the camps and combat the rising rate of sexual violence in the camps, some involving children as young as 3 years old! At the same time, we will be working toward constructive programs for the male population as well, The company will draw upon its vast experience of theatrical techniques to create a comprehensive and enriching program. Exercises will be geared to participants’ needs and will address the following areas:

· Developing positive group dynamics and trust

· Addressing traumatic experiences, memories and hopes

· Building self-esteem and conquering fears

· Stimulating imagination and creative problem solving

· Cultivating empowerment and leadership

The company is working with two local women’s groups, FAVILEK and KOFAVIV, to help give women a means to speak out about their lives. The project is the initial phase of a long-term commitment in Haiti. The company offers its uplifting and joyful performances while looking at long-range means to address the most pressing issues facing women and girls living in the camps.

WHY THEATRE?

Theatre gives voice to the voiceless and provides them with a safe environment and the creative tools to address critical problems that can directly improve their community. Worldwide, theatre, through its use of imagery, humor and non-verbal language is recognized as an effective means to disseminate practical information about crucial topics such as health, safety, and community services.

BOND STREET THEATRE’S THREE-PART MODEL PROGRAM:

· The company collaborates on a peer-to-peer basis with local theatre artists and arts organizations in each region in which we work.

· The company designs theatre-based programs to suit the needs of each target group, from street-working children to rural women to refugee populations.

· The company trains educators, community leaders, parents and other stakeholders to continue these theatre-based techniques after our departure to maximize sustainability and impact.

Joanna Sherman, Artistic Director ▪ Michael McGuigan, Managing Director

Bond Street Theatre is a not-for-profit 501(c)(3) organization and an NGO in association with the United Nations DPI.

HAITI: Les Cayes

2010-12-14T10:44:00.002-05:00

Finally posting some of my thoughts from the latter half of our journey -- workshops and shows in Les Cayes.

After ten days in the Grande Goave area, we traveled down to the south coast to the town of Les Cayes, where we worked with children in adults in the slum of Cite Delma.

This is an extremely poor area, where the people do not have enough to eat (or drink). Outstretched hands greet us throughout our visits with accompanying pleadings of "M'gran gou, m'gran soif" (I'm hungry, I'm thirsty) and "What do you have for me, do you have something for me?" It's difficult to know what to do. We do bring something... but it's not food or clothing, it's not material goods. We bring food for the spirit. This is good, too, and something very much needed, but it's not enough. It's something I grapple with.

We offer joy, play, laughter, inspiration... Through our creative and exploratory and playful workshops, the young adults, and the children have the opportunity to inspire and empower themselves to see new possibilities for themselves and to envision moving beyond their current circumstances. But, still, they don't have the physical means.... They grapple with this as well. In the end, through feedback, we learn that yes, they feel uplifted and inspired and more hopeful, but there is frustration and discouragement still at the feeling of lack of prospects. Of course, in one week we are not going to change their entire world. We hope to sow a seed...

My first impression, however, as we arrive is one of joy and curiosity. I notice a marked difference in the spirit of the children. These children may be poor and hungry, but they have not been traumatized by the earthquake, which did not affect this area too much. As we drive through the narrow pathway between the houses and arrive at the community space, children are jumping up and down excitedly waving and reaching out there hands. I do not get the sense they are reaching out their hands in this instant to beg, but rather to touch and greet and connect with these foreign newcomers who might be offering something exciting, whether it be food for the soul or food for the tummy. As we play with the children, I notice there is definitely a need to connect, physically and emotionally. One girl in particular clings to me a lot, taking my hands, slipping her arm through mine, hugging and holding.

Our show with these kids is a great success. We decide, learning from our experience in Grande Goave, to include the adults we are working with more and we give them a chance to create and lead segments of the show. That way everyone is more actively involved. The 'formateurs' -- the trainers whom we are training and who will lead the ongoing play activities after we leave, together with adults from the neighborhood -- are so great! Full of enthusiasm, spirit and vision, and very creative and expressive!

We travel with all the children to perform our show in a small village in a remote area about an hour and a half drive away. A bus has been chartered to take us all there. The bus can't get into the slum housing area where the kids live and where we've been doing our activities, so we all walk together for twenty minutes along the narrow dirt pathway through the community out to the main road. The entire way the children and adults sing the camp song "Boom chicka boom" which we've taught them and which they really dig. Non-stop the whole way. There is such excitement!

After an hour or so drive, the bus stops and we all get off and take turns traveling in two pick-up trucks the rest of the way. The road to the village is so rough and narrow, the bus can't get through. And when I say it's a bumpy road, that's an understatement! It takes the truck twenty minutes to negotiate this terrain, which can hardly be termed a road at all.

Finally, we have all arrived and it's time to do the show. The community is all gathered under a roofed open-air community space, ready and waiting. Afterward, a dance party ensues. I note with interest that the villagers are continuing the party on their own, oblivious to our presence or departure. Usually, in my experience, everyone follows us out with curiosity to see what else we might do or to see us off. But, clearly, a dance party takes precedence over anything else!

I dance, too, for a bit and invite a girl standing by watching to join me. An adult pushes her towards me and she runs away. Of course, that's too scary, don't make her, let her take her time to get comfortable and connect with me, I'm thinking. She comes back and moves closer to me, I take a step towards her, and she runs off again! I see her again a little later as I stand somewhere else in the crowd; she approaches me, I look at her, and she immediately runs off... and then she sneaks back, and we start again, a back and forth dance of approach run away approach run away. At this point, she's smiling and laughing. This becomes a game between us, which goes on for the next half hour or hour!

In meantime, Selena and some of the girls have started jumping rope out by the road, and a big crowd gathers. As I look on, a group of elderly women approach me. They ask me "what do you have for me, what do you have to give me?" I say, "I have given it to you -- what I bring is joy and laughter!" "Did you enjoy the show?" Oh ok! Yes, yes, thank you. After a while, they ask again "do you have anything for us?" One lady asks me for my dress that I am wearing (literally, the shirt off my back). This is funny, but also sad.

On the way back, the children are so revved up, they sing the entire way. For an hour and a half! "I said a boom chicka boom!" And all kinds of songs of their own that they know: "Galloper galloper! Pedaler pedaler!" and "Il etait un elephant..." etc.

HAITI: The tent camps

2010-10-15T00:31:00.000-04:00

Petit Paradis

Arriving at one displacement camp, ironically called “Little Paradise”, I immediately jump out of the tap-tap and start goofing around with the kids and adults gathered around. Usually my play is met with amused curiosity or joyful excitement. The experience here is palpably different. I feel it and realize I need to back off a bit, and proceed more gently. The kids (and adults) stare at me with what appears to be apprehension or reserve. They are wary and on guard, not quite sure what to make of our presence. Who are we and what are we about?

I wonder whether they are a bit jaded, having been so inundated with foreign aid workers that they assume we are just another bunch—and what are we bringing them and what do we want now… The dynamic I sense at the tent camp becomes even more apparent contrasted by the market place we visit the following day – where people are not displaced but live in their regular homes and the market is a normal gathering place for the community. There the atmosphere is much more relaxed and open, the adults are more approachable and easier to connect with, and the children are excited and ready to receive our performance. I realize that in the tent camp, people truly have lost their bearings—their homes, their sense of security, perhaps their sense of self. They are displaced and traumatized.

Deciding to go easy, I sit down on a bench and gently invite a child to come sit next to me. Finally, one of them does, and then the others follow. I give them each a flower. (I happened to have them -- right before leaving to drive over to the tent camp, Guinelda -- one of the girls performing with us -- suddenly ran over to a bush and picked a bouquet of pink flowers which she handed to each of us clowns.) See, I’m friendly and sweet, I’m here to play with you. Little by little I start to goof it up again. After all, I can’t help myself! I’m a goof, that’s what I do!

But, boy, it’s hard. The audience has started to gather. And they’re not having any of it. It’s a tough crowd. I feel that the kids are tired, too; we all start off the show with rather low energy. But then things pick up! Once the people see what we’re really about – we're here to give you entertainment, fun and laughter – they get into it, and by the end they really appreciate the show and our presence. Of course, the juggling and acrobatics are huge hits, bringing great applause.

After the performance, we stay and mingle a bit. I like to talk to the kids who have been watching and ask them how they liked the show, play a little, make a closer connection. A woman comes up to me with her sick child. She points to his hair, which has a reddish tint – a sign of malnutrition. She asks for medical help. They hear the “Without Borders” and they think we are Doctors. I explain to her that we’re Clowns Without Borders, we offer play and laughter…. I try to point her to someone she can talk to for possible assistance.

I wonder how much of a difference we have made; whether we have made any difference at all in these people’s lives. Did they get anything out of our visit, did we help in any way, did we offer any relief? Sometimes, I wonder....
When confronted with the reality of these people's hardships. They do need food, shelter, medical help. We can’t give them that.

Yet, humans are more than just their physical being. In the aftermath of a crisis, people need a chance to restore their sense of humanity, and their sense of community. What is it to be human? The clown plays with the gamut of human emotion and experience – love, loss, fear, joy, desire, pride, triumph and failure – often taking it to extremes – and we laugh. Partly, because we recognize ourselves. Offering a performance like this is a chance for people to come together as a community in a shared experience – a shared experience that is positive and uplifting – in the case of clown and circus, an experience of laughter and joy, surprise and awe. And, hopefully, it’s a chance to forget at least for a moment their daily hardships. And to feel connected to being human.

* * * * *

Darbonne camp

Our first show was in the Darbonne tent camp. The field at the entrance of the camp, where we had planned to perform, had turned into a swamp from all the rain the day before, so we venture into the midst of the camp and set up the show in another clearing. As we wander past the tents, we realize how little privacy there is for the people who live here. Left and right, people are in the midst of washing themselves, or their clothes, or dishes, tending to their domestic and private affairs, while we walk by. We wonder whether perhaps we are treading on someone’s private space, perhaps there are designated paths one ought to stick to? No, there simply is no privacy. We walk right by a man, naked, pouring a bucket of water over himself. A woman sitting in front of her tent watches us as we pass. They do not seem bothered by our trudging by. But I don't know.

A man approaches me and urgently asks me when we will do something for the children, and what will we do, the children need activities, creative stimulation, on a regular basis. I assure him that, yes, that is exactly what we are here for, and Terre des Hommes will be offering a regular program of activities at the play center.

My clown mates call my name to come get ready for the show, and as I walk in their direction I hear my name called repeatedly – the inhabitants of the camp have picked up on my name and are amusing themselves by playing with it. This makes me laugh. I see we've got a bunch of clowns already in the camp!

People start to gather, and I tell a group of young women and girls that we are doing a show and please come see, we’re all going to have fun together, and sing and dance! On est la pour vous amuser!

By the time the show has begun, an audience of about 200 has gathered around on all sides. It’s by now 11am and the sun is blasting down on us, it's extremely hot. Two minutes into the show I am already exhausted! But adrenalin keeps me going! It's so exciting to be here and share some joy!

Goofing around after the show

Two little girls
in their Sunday best

The cool guys strike a pose

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HAITI: Grand Goave PHOTOS

2010-10-11T20:35:00.001-04:00

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Clowns parading around and practicing funny walks

Silly walks... acrobatics.... and.... throwing your name to the sea!

Drawing your experience

Our star performers, Basil and Camelien ---- Guinolda on my shoulders!

Some of the amazing adults we worked/played with:

Evena - Gerard - Eddie

Nico - Inite (Nathalie) - Junior

Manoushka - Wisnie - Marlon

Me and Ritha

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---

HAITI: Workshops and show with the children

2010-10-10T22:09:00.001-04:00

We have also been working with a group of 20 children here in Grand Goave. In the morning, we do workshops with the adults, and in the afternoon we do the same with the kids with the participation of some of the adult activity leaders.

Another thing we've been working on and especially with the children is presenting yourself with a signature gesture, which we end up calling "fashion!" (I think we got this from a song they were singing at some point where they were styling it using that word.) This turns out to be a big hit. They really get into it. The kids love doing "fashion!" It's a great tool for presenting yourself to the world with pride and confidence.

We work this into the activities -- entering onto stage and presenting yourself: "Fashion!" Do a trick, such as juggling, and then: "Fashion!" And even if you make a mistake and drop a ball: "Fashion!"
As a clown, you're still proud of what you did, as if it was not a mistake at all. Oh, I meant to do that. That's what makes it funny.

Styling it for the show..... "Fashion!"

In the weekend, we are scheduled to perform four shows at three tent camps identified as challenging and in need of intervention, as well as in a market place in the center of town. We also add a show for the community at the child-safe center where we have been doing our workshops. The kids are all in the show with us!

It's a lot of work to with very little time create a show that incorporates all 20 children, and of course it would have been simpler for us to just do a show by ourselves. But it is so much greater to do it together with the children, with the support of some of the adults -- performing together for the community. It's a great boost for the kids to get to perform for their peers and for their parents. Indeed, the feedback we hear through TDH is that everyone involved felt such pride to perform for the community together with us; it made them feel validated.

We enter in a parade, making a rhythmic beat together. The four of us clowns start out with some silly antics. At a certain point, my character starts crying and all the girls run up to console me with a Haitian dance they teach me. Then the kids take over the show. They do silly dances with hats -- straw hats that we got everybody at the market as a unifying costume element -- and balance brooms and juggle with balls, each one presenting themselves individually, and at the end build a pyramid for an acrobatic finale.

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The workshops at the child-safe center take place under some trees next to the beach. When we have some down time we all go swimming together! It's a great chance to connect with the kids in a casual, easy, fun way and get to know each other a little better.

HAITI: Games and exercises

2010-10-10T13:44:00.007-04:00

So what kind of stuff have we been up to? With the adults and also with the children, we have been playing creative games to promote self-expression, confidence, cooperation and respect (for self and others!). We play a lot as a big group together in a circle -- passing a clap around with eye contact; or an energetic movement; pronouncing our name loud and proud with an individual gesture which everyone repeats; focusing together to suddenly jump all at the same time (without a countdown or signal); passing an emotion around the circle -- anger, joy, excitement, sadness (this was a very powerful exercise with this group!); creating a rhythm orchestra -- someone starts a rhythmic sound with the voice or clapping or stomping or such, and each one joins in with a complementary sound until everyone is making a rhythmic groove together. Since the Haitians, as we have discovered, love to sing and dance, this was an easy feat and so joyous and energetic!

We work on miming an action and exaggerating it, playing it bigger and bigger. First in a circle, passing an imaginary ball around the circle and then transforming it into any mimed object or action -- a bird, a cane for an old man, fishing pole, etc. We then have them act out actions such as cutting wood, climbing a tree, doing the laundry, catching a chicken. And how can you make the action and situation interesting, what might happen as an obstacle or conflict, how many different ways can you act out trying to catch a chicken?

One day in the adult workshop we ask the participants to think of issues that might be of concern to the children and to act them out. They divide into groups and choose the following scenarios: a child being beaten by a parent and other adults intervening; a child well-raised and well-educated, whois a kind and respectful son, a keen student in school and who greets his elders in the street (culturally important in Haiti) ; washing your hands before eating; and, one group acts out the earthquake with a person embodying the earthquake by jumping into the scene stomping and hopping around and the others falling down.

We also play with funny character walks, individually and together in duos and trios, and then do a clown entrance together presenting yourself to the audience. They have a lot of fun with this and it is interesting to see everyone's individual tendencies and the cultural influences. For example, many seem to incorporate Haitian dance moves into their walk and a lot of them do limping walks. This is interesting. Enough of them choose this that it becomes a bit of a phenomenon -- funny walks equals making fun of the disabled....?! And it is true, that this is often the case in many cultures, the funny character is based on an outcast, emphasizing the abnormal and unusual -- such as the hobo character in the US, or how traditionally in Bali the comedic mask characters are based on deformedindividuals in the community.

Last but not least we also teach juggling and acrobatics!

HAITI: A grand week in Grand Goave

2010-10-07T15:45:00.003-04:00

We had been told by Terre des Hommes how depressed the adults were, lacking in motivation and really needing our encouragement. These individuals have all been affected by the earthquake and have lost their homes and their bearings, they are as traumatized as the children -- and yet they are tasked with the responsibility of leading a psychosocial support effort. So I was amazed to see how engaged and expressive they have been, indeed there is such a spirit and joy, and so much singing and chanting, it's infectious. Sure, sometimes they slack off in concentration and it's hard to get the group focused. But mostly, everyone is fully engaged and committed. There is great energy in the group with such a spirit of generosity and a wonderful camaraderie between us all. It's truly been a gift to work with these individuals. It's not a given that a group will work so easily together or that we, as teachers, will have such accepting and engaged students. These adults all come from different centers, they do not even know each other from before and they certainly did not know us. But we all have something that binds us together, I suppose, the common goal of bringing joy to the children for the future of Haiti!

What is funny is that the adults are more like children than the children -- in their playfulness and silliness and goofing off. I think they are truly relishing the opportunity to just get to play! And forget for a week the responsibilities of being an adult and all that they face in their daily circumstances.

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* * *

Little by little we have come to learn some of their personal stories. The film crew has been interviewing the workshop participants and is learning so much more about individual circumstances than we are privy to. The film director can ask more direct questions as it is the purpose of her documentary, but it's not really our place as clowns and teachers, I feel. It is something that has to come from the individuals themselves if they wish to share.

At lunch one day, Rhonda and Winnie begin to talk about the earthquake. They shudder and shake their heads as they think about what happened. Winnie tells us her children are still afraid, they ask her if the "goudou goudou" will come again. This is what they call it, an onomatopoetic term for the sound of a house shaking during an earthquake. They also refer to the "event" as "January 12," same as we say 9/11. Or, "what happened in January" -- the children mostly, they don't want to say the word 'earthquake.' Rhonda was in church, she and her mother managed to get out, but her sister got caught in the debris. She was lying next to a woman already dead. Her sister screamed for help and then fainted, Rhonda tried to give her mouth to mouth resuscitation, and finally they were able to get her out.

We learn that Michel now lives in a makeshift tent outside of his destroyed house together with five relatives. They share one mattress. His wife was hurt in the earthquake, and is staying in Port-au-Prince with their small child. So, for now, they are separated. Yet, every morning Michel shows up to our workshops with a great smile on his face and filled with such spirit. Truly, this man is amazing. He shares with us his great vision for the future. He wants to open a school. He himself has devoted years to studying, and looks forward to yet more. He says: "I will prepare another Haiti for the children -- with the children." Haiti needs more men like him. He'd be a better president than any of the 20 or so bozos they currently got as candidates.

* * *

On the last day of workshops, we hand things over to the participants. It is their turn to teach -- take it away! Over the past week we have been working with 18 activity leaders ('animateurs') and four "trainers" ('formateurs', what one might call activity supervisors), two from each of nine child centers. After our project with them is completed, the idea is for these 'animateurs' to return to their respective centers and share with the other activity leaders who work there what they have learned from us, and to implement it in their work with the children. On this last day, all the adults from all the centers have been invited to take part -- 76 in total! -- and our 'animateurs' are given the opportunity to demonstrate what they've been up to all week. We do a big warm-up together in a huge circle and after that we divide up into four groups which our original workshop participants lead in teams, focusing on four areas -- juggling/balancing, acrobatics, creative games and expressive movement. It's a great culmination to a great week.

Throughout the week of activities we have taken moments to check in with our participants to see what they have absorbed from the workshops, what worked and didn't work, what do they enjoy -- and whether they feel what we are sharing will be useful to them in their work with the children. The response is a resounding yes. We ask them to draw what activity they enjoyed most, what was most challenging, and what was their greatest accomplishment -- individually and as a group.

At our last session, Marielle tells us how the 'goudou goudou' has still been causing her a lot of distress, but that this week of play with us has really helped her and that she feels much better now. It is affirming to hear such direct feedback of our work having an actual and real impact.

Bernard takes the opportunity to share with us his impression of the four of us clowns: Anna is the crazy one (that's me!), Tim is the clumsy one, Selena the beautiful one who is very kind all the same, and Jan is the philosophical thinker.

*all names fictitious*

HAITI: The adventure begins!

2010-10-03T20:16:00.006-04:00

The day before we start the workshops we go to visit the centers where we will perform later in the week. First, the Darbonne tent camp. We drive for quite a long time to get there. Overloaded buses with packages and people on the roof roar by at top speed. We ride in a 'tap-tap' -- a pick-up truck with a covered back and a bench along each side, a common public transport. It is very rickety, and the road is extremely bumpy with lots of stones and rocks. And dust. There are lots of rubble piles lining the road and damaged houses, many with no second floor where there used to be one. Women (and some men) walk along carrying goods on their heads. A boy rides a pony. Goats. Donkeys and pigs. Lots of goats. They eat the garbage on the side of the road. We pass through a busy market bustling with activity, the street lined with stalls and goods, and people about everywhere, and cars and trucks and our tap-tap trying to squeeze through.

And then we turn onto a big field beyond which lies a sprawling mass of blue tents. Some boys are playing soccer. There is a small wooden open air structure which is the play center TDH has built. A teacher sits inside surrounded by a group of children, she is talking to them about the water system. Jan goes inside and hangs upside down from a beam (he's the acrobat in the group) -- and the kids go wild. He does a funky robot dance. A kid joins in. Eruption of laughter and squeals and clapping. A little girl, perhaps three years old, comes up to me and I take her hands and we dance together. She speaks to me in Creole, I don't know what she's saying, but the gleam in her eyes is all I need to understand. More kids gather around. Suddenly they all break out in song. There is such energy and excitement! Such a welcoming open spirit, so happy to play with us. We keep goofing, but eventually we've gotta go. Can't wait to come back and do the show for them!

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In the afternoon, we meet with the adults (the 'animateurs') with whom we will be working. Everyone is gathered around quietly, reserved, waiting. I thought, hmm, I wonder how this is going to go, what with our doing silly clown games and movement exercises, are they going to take to it? We have an introduction and initial discussion about the project, and ask them what activities they enjoy doing with the kids. "Coordinees" is mentioned, a sort of marching band routine, and suddenly a bunch of them jump up to show us and totally get into it with gusto! Et voila, ca y est, we're off! They start chanting "the clowns, the clowns" and Selena and I get up and do our own silly version. There is a great burst of energy and spirit, playfulness and laughing! Everybody gets up into a circle and we do the name game -- say your name with a gesture or movement -- and it's great! No holds barred, totally expressive and engaged with creative movement and very different choices everyone. Then they break out into spontaneous clapping and chanting. We're off to a great start.

HAITI: The project and partnership

2010-10-03T20:15:00.004-04:00

We are collaborating with Terre des Hommes (TDH), a Swiss-based international aid organization providing health, nutrition, sanitation and child protection services. They have been based in Haiti for over 20 years. After the earthquake, so many NGOs descended on Port au Prince that TDH decided to focus their relief efforts in more remote areas where fewer services were available to the population.

Monday, September 6, we have a meeting with the director of psychosocial protection services who gives us the lowdown on the current situation, what is needed and with whom we will be working.

TDH is spearheading a project to offer protection and psychosocial support to children coping with the aftermath of the earthquake. The disaster completely disrupted the natural system of caretaking in the community. Families have been displaced and have lost their traditional support network. Children were lost and separated, or orphaned. Some of the children have been taken care of by random adults who picked them up along the road, but who do not really have the capacity to care for them. Others have been placed in orphanages. There is a higher risk for abuse and violence; many are at risk of trafficking.

Adults all over Haiti need to focus pointedly on rebuilding their homes and lives. They need to be able to go out and look for help or work elsewhere. There is a compelling need for child-safe spaces where the children can be away from danger, chaos, and tension. They especially need a space where they can feel free to play and express themselves with supportive adults who listen to them. To this end, TDH has created several Child Centers in the tent camps and other areas. Each is staffed with a team of 'animateurs' (activity leaders) recruited from the community to provide structured play and other supportive activities for the children.

We have been invited to provide training to the adult 'animateurs' in clown play, basic circus arts and acrobatics, which they can then apply in their ongoing psychosocial support work with the children.
An immediate goal is to offer fun and carefree play to the children (and, as importantly, to the adults!) to relieve them for a moment from the daily confrontation with the hardships of their circumstances. Our longer-term aim – the lasting beneficial impact we want to have – is to leave them with the inspiration and capacity to institute an effective program on their own, providing creative activities to the children on an ongoing basis after we are gone. We are also putting a strong emphasis on cultural exchange -- we bring what we know and they share what they already do, and who they are, for a mutual learning experience!

HAITI: from Port au Prince to Grande Goave

2010-10-03T20:10:00.012-04:00

We arrive in early afternoon on Saturday, September 4 at Toussaint Louverture International Airport, greeted by a live band playing upbeat Haitian music, an unexpectedly festive touch, and ensuing luggage chaos, not entirely unexpected. We walk out into the sunshine and are greeted by our driver pretending to be an eager porter sneaking in between us and grabbing at our bags -- he's just clowning around with us.

As we drive from the airport through Port au Prince and into the countryside, the look and feel is similar to other underdeveloped tropical countries where I have been, such as Cambodia or Indonesia. It's dusty, dirty and chaotic, there are no traffic lights and no traffic rules, pigs and goats roam garbage on the side of the road, buildings are mostly one and two story rudimentary cement structures in decaying condition. What is different is here we pass loads of UN trucks and soldiers, including one tank situated in a crossroads surrounded by barbed wire as if imprisoning itself. Massive tent camps line the road and there are piles of rubble everywhere. We even pass tents erected in the middle of the road, in the median section between two lanes (something I had read about and, indeed, there they were). People are desperate to stay in Port au Prince to receive help and to find work, although it is hard to get either. I don't see as many damaged buildings as I had thought I would, but we are not driving through the worst-hit areas of Port au Prince -- this is only some extent of it.

[Click on image to view larger]

Our destination is Grand Goave, a town (a small village, I would say) in the countryside about 2 1/2 hours drive from Port au Prince, just past the town of Leogane, which is situated in the epicenter of the earthquake. 80% of buildings were destroyed or damaged here. There were less casualties in this area, however, because people were able to run away to safety, being the countryside with so much more space around. The destruction was so massive in parts of Port au Prince because there people lived crowded together in badly constructed shacks with only tiny alley-ways in between and there were no means of escape, it all collapsed right upon them.

In Grand Goave, there are several large tent camps for displaced families, both those who have lost homes in the local area and for the many who have fled Port au Prince to take refuge here. Many others live in tent or tarp structures outside of their destroyed homes. Terre des Hommes, our partner organization, encourages people to go back to where their homes are, because the risk is that people will end up staying in the tent camps for several years.
We also pass one camp which is referred to as a "ghost camp", that is, people have created a camp to draw attention and receive help from international aid organizations but no one is actually staying there!

Return from HAITI !

2010-09-29T17:03:00.003-04:00

Dear friends, family and fellow human beings! I have just returned from Haiti and three amazing, intense weeks working with a wonderful group of people, experiencing and learning so much. I had no internet access while there and so have not been able to offer any updates until now that I'm back. In the next few days I will be posting several reports chronicling our experience.

There's so much to cover and so much to share and so much to process. I'm still taking it all in.

The last few days I have just been at home digesting the experience and recovering -- having been sick I needed to indulge in some much needed rest. I was sick almost the entire journey with a nasty growing bronchial infection (which at first I thought was allergies but then got worse)! It was challenging to keep up with the intensive schedule and the highly energetic, physical work of clowning around -- especially as I am a very high energy clown in this work -- but I trudged on! I was in Haiti to work, not to rest! No matter if I was hacking up a storm or half in a fog, nothing could take away from the powerful experience that this has been.

Stay tuned for full report.

Off I go to HAITI !

2010-09-04T00:20:00.000-04:00

I am off on a new venture, this time to Haiti. Together with three team mates, as part of Clowns Without Borders, we will spend three weeks in Les Cayes and Grand Goave, working with survivors of the earthquake and providing psychosocial support through the joy and play of clowning. We are partnering with Terre des Hommes, an international aid organization working to improve the living conditions of disadvantaged children. For this particular project, we will be working with local community leaders -- adults -- and training them to do clown and circus arts with the children on an ongoing basis. We will also play with the kids. Together we will all perform in a show for the community!

This time there will be a film team following us on our journey. They are working on a documentary about Clowns Without Borders. You can check out their project here: http://www.sendintheclowns.org

We leave tomorrow September 4 and return on September 25. I will keep you updated, hopefully during our time there, but definitely upon my return. I am not sure if I will have internet access. We are roughing it and will be staying in tents. Like everybody else. I am not sure how far things have come in the recovery process. I suspect not very far. I do not have much logicistical information as of yet, as things on the ground are being arranged by our partner organization. We will find out what the situation is once we are there. We're just throwing ourselves into the fray -- and hoping to make a difference!

Life in Myanmar -- observations and experiences

2010-06-16T09:52:00.003-04:00

In day-to-day life, one does not notice the military regime and its oppressive rule so much. Life goes on, people go about their business. Most everyone is quite poor, trying to get by. The most tangible way the regime's effects manifests is the electricity cutting out at different points of the day. There is not a sufficient supply of electricity and several times the lights will go out, the fan stop, etc. Then it comes back on again -- if you're in a place where there's a back-up generator, such as our hotel. If you are not, then you're out of luck, and in the dark. There actually is enough electricity to supply the entire country fully, except that the supply is completely mismanaged by the regime. Some years ago the government decided to expand the industry, without first figuring out how they would support it, that is, generate enough electricity; they overextended themselves. Therefore, towns have to take turns to get electricity because the government is directing it to the factories. Now, there would be sufficient energy to go around, if it weren't that they government also sells its supply off to other countries (such as China). So, instead of supplying its own citizens they send it out of the country.

Some more observations to follow. Betel chewing. Umbrellas for sun. Hot hot hot! Longyi -- what everyone wears. The Burmese language (hard!). Dilapitated buildings and taxis falling apart. Hip hop. Beautiful beautiful Shwe Dagon pagoda.

Adventures on the road in Myanmar!

2010-06-10T09:43:00.003-04:00

Here is the continuation of my experiences in Myanmar:

PART II

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

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

* * *

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

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

* * *

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

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

* * *

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

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

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

Our second day (May 17) we drive to Kayin (Karen) state, after all. The monastery phoned and insisted we come. Apparently, the Sayadaw there is greatly respected and exerts a certain degree of authority. So we are able to perform without a problem. We had a little adventure getting through the checkpoint, which I will not elaborate upon here, except to say we made it safely through, not to worry! Before going ahead with the show, we are invited to meet with the Sayadaw in his headquarters on the top of a big hill. While enjoying a discussion, the Sayadaw looks over at me and cracks up. He makes some comment about me and laughs. ??? Apparently, he thinks I have a very funny face. I don't have to do anything, he says, just looking at me, the children will laugh and be happy. So, there you have it -- I've had it confirmed by a senior Burmese monk that I'm a natural clown! Not bad. (I think.)

The monastery here is a huge compound containing several large school buildings. One of them has a mural on the wall with the Kayin national flag and an inscription in the Kayin language behind a small free-standing blackboard. Many students who come here only speak Kayin (as opposed to Burmese).

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

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

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

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

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

* * *

Update on my adventures in BURMA = MYANMAR

2010-05-29T09:37:00.003-04:00

This May I have had the privilege of being a U.S. Cultural Envoy to Burma (Myanmar), as an ensemble member with Bond Street Theatre.
Bond Street Theatre has for many years traveled to refugee camps, areas of conflict and post-war environments around the world using the performing arts as a means of humanitarian outreach and education. They have in the past collaborated extensively with theater companies in Afghanistan and India. It’s exciting to be joining forces with Joanna and Michael on one of their international outreach projects!

* * *

PART I

We took off on May 1, 2010 and arrived in Rangoon (Yangon) Sunday evening, May 2. We have had a very busy schedule so there has not been much time to take notes and to post updates on the blog! Internet access is very sketchy.

Myanmar, as the country now calls itself, is run by a military dictatorship. Any dissent is suppressed and only some internet sites are accessible. Usually Gmail is ok, but even that gets an "access denied" at times. Unfamiliar sites such as the Bond Street Blog are by default blocked. But sometimes there are ways around it.

Background on “Burma” vs. “Myanmar”: When the junta took over the regime, they decided that Burma would henceforth be called Myanmar, and the capital city of Rangoon would be referred to as Yangon. Burma and Rangoon were names ascribed by the British during their colonial rule. Burma actually refers to the Burmese people, a specific ethnic group in the country, whereas there are many other ethnicities as well, and of course they do not wish to be referred to as Burmese nor as living in "Burma". Thus, the name of Myanmar is a general name that includes all peoples of this country. It is the name that the people of this country prefer to use to refer to its nation and its language. However, because it was the military junta that chose to name it thus, and as its regime is not recognized by the U.S. and the West, the United States officially still refers to the country as Burma. Calling it Myanmar would be to legitimize the regime. For myself, I'm confused as to which name I ought to use. But since my Burmese friends -- or, rather, my Myanmar friends -- use the term Myanmar, I will use this term as well.

There is much to say about the political situation here, recent history, and the current circumstances of living affected by this, but I will delve further into that later.

Joanna, Michael & Anna with
Public Affairs Officer Richard Mei and family

* * *

What We Are Doing:
We are working with four local artists who are interested in exploring and developing further the state of theater in Myanmar. As Joanna mentioned in conjunction with Bond Street’s last trip, there is no real theater scene here. There used to be more theater, but with the oppressive regime, it has withered rather than flourished. Our Burmese friends wish to resurrect and develop a vibrant, active and contemporary theater scene that addresses the issues of the day and looks to the future.

At this point, I am not going to specify by name our Burmese artist friends for security reasons. This may change. Suffice it to say they have been hired as Theater Specialists by a local artist organization and have started a new theater company. They are all men ranging in age from 19 to 44. (Soon we hope some Myanmar women will join them!).

We are here to share our theater experience with the Burmese artists, to inspire them to develop new ideas and possibilities for Burmese theater. As they requested, we brought several books on theater that they might wish to read and draw from (such as Impro by Keith Johnstone, The Viewpoints Book by Anne Bogart, Theater Games for the Classroom by Viola Spolin, and Tricks of the Trade by Dario Fo.
And on a further level, we are here to collaborate and develop a theatrical piece together.

At first, I was under the impression we would be holding workshops sharing theater techniques and approaches with them; that is, I thought we would be teaching more. But as it turns out, we jumped straight in to rehearsing and exploring how we can collaborate on putting together a theatrical piece, and we have been full up with this. The emphasis has been on developing a theatrical piece on a theme we decided to explore. And we have been hard at work everyday!

The Serious and the Funny:
Our Myanmar colleagues suggested we build a piece around the theme of waiting. This is a big issue in Myanmar, and certainly something Westerners can relate to as well -- waiting for the bus, waiting at the doctor's office or the emergency room, waiting at the DMV, always having to wait in one way or another for something to be done or to get to do something or to be approved by the powers that be so one can go on with one's life and go about one's business. And then on a more philosophical and existential level, one might ponder life as one long wait for death to arrive…!

In Myanmar, this is magnified tenfold. The authority is a military dictatorship, so one has no choice but to be nice and comply - or else. You are at the mercy of whoever happens to be in authority - whether they feel like keeping you waiting or approving something, or not. One of the artists we're working with is currently trying to obtain a passport (and as a former political prisoner, he is especially at the mercy of the authorities’ whim), so this situation very much hits home for him at this time.

We explore various situations and scenarios on this theme and start to piece something together from improvisations. Our focus – the usual approach of Bond Street Theatre – is to use a physical theatrical language (rather than verbal) - that is, to find physical actions to express ourselves and the situation, and dynamic movements that will create compelling visual imagery. Little by little, something of substance begins to take shape. Eventually, as we continue our collaboration in the future, our exploration will develop into a full-fledged theatrical production to be performed in both Myanmar and the States.

We are having a great time working together. In our warm-up exercise, everyone is really well connected and in sync and creatively expressive. Our Burmese artist friends are starting to be a bit more assertive in rehearsal, offering ideas and suggestions, which is good. We want ideas to come from them! Especially as we are working on depicting Burmese life. They’re the experts on this - not us! We start to consider further what the theme is, really, that we are exploring. What do we want the show to be about ultimately? Beyond waiting, what is the reality and the experiences of Myanmar life that we may wish to explore? We discuss the history and current circumstances of Myanmar – and let possibilities ruminate.

Apart from this - our "serious" show - as we call it for want of a better word, we are also working on creating another show geared towards children that we can perform in the monasteries. This is our "funny" show to bring joy and laughter to the kids. We incorporate some of the classic slapstick of Bond Street’s repertoire together with several Burmese songs that our friends teach us. From this, a narrative theme develops based on an issue we are asked to address: washing your hands before you eat! The importance of this is something many children here do not yet understand. Washing your hands after you go to the toilet and washing your hands before you eat. As a result, kids may get stomach sickness and walk around with infected sores all over their bodies. It is possible that some children in poor neighborhoods are so used to dirt and garbage everywhere that they have developed an immune system against this from early on. Nonetheless, not washing is still a serious issue.

The first ten days, we spent workshopping and rehearsing: in the morning, our "serious" show, and in the afternoon, our "funny" show for the kids. Then it’s show time!

We first try our show out for the local neighborhood kids in an empty dirt lot, where the young men like to play soccer in the afternoons.

We perform in the morning to avoid the heat. Let me tell you, it is hot, hot, hot here! We sure picked a great time to come - the hottest time of year - and not only that, it is apparently the hottest summer in over 40 years!

By the time, we are finished with our performance, we are soaked with sweat. To gather the crowds, we parade through the neighborhood pre-show and make an announcement – our pals on megaphone and me in tow making a spectacle of myself as usual (on purpose this time). I try out my limited Burmese: (phonetically) “Mingala-ba! Ni kaun la shin?” [Hello! How are you?] And it works - yay! I get hello and responses back. There aren’t too many people out and about and I don’t see many children. But when it’s time to do the show and I walk onto the lot, there are already about 50 kids gathered to watch. Where did they all come from?! Word travels fast. From the time we start to the end of our show, the audience grew from 100 or 150. It’s a good first show. The kids laugh a lot, especially when we make mistakes – maybe we’ll keep them!

BURMA

2010-05-25T08:08:00.003-04:00

I'm on a new adventure -- this time to Burma (Myanmar). I am traveling as part of Bond Street Theatre and we are Cultural Envoys! For three weeks, on the behest of the US Embassy, we will be working with local artists towards creating a theatrical piece together, as well as performing a fun, clown-y show for children in the monastery schools.

It's been a busy three weeks and I am now back! I will shortly post what we've been up to.

x

PHOTOS !!!

2010-04-01T15:28:00.004-04:00

To top things off, here's a variety of photos from my experiences in Indonesia.
Click on the photos for a larger version.

Jakarta

Above, fancy modern Jakarta....

And directly behind and below the modern skyscrapers... the slums!

Some people live like this... ...and others live like this... .... or this!

Jakarta is a city of contradictions!

* * * * *

People and Faces

My buddies in the kampung (slum quarters):

More people

1. Thumbs up for Obama! 2. Indonesian tourists from Sulawesi, who wanted their picture taken with me (to them, I'm a tourist attraction!) 3. My buddies, the dockworkers

City Life

The infamous Jakarta "macet" (traffic jam)... with a row of bajaj 'taxi' vehicles

And here's a typical neighborhood 'thug', playing traffic cop (they 'stop' traffic to 'let you out' or in and demand money in return, one of many rackets going around town)

Man sleeping on bike

Photo above left by Renny Antoni

Good old-fashioned transportation by 'becak' rickshaws

And the kids!

Street performing kids in one of the main squares of Jakarta

Sita and Rama (shawow puppets)

All photos by AZ except where noted

Sampai jumpa, Indonesia!

2010-03-03T22:15:00.011-05:00

Well, another great adventure has come to an end! A month of clowning around with kids so full of excitement and joy at our special visit. This is what makes it all so worth it -- seeing the excited joyful faces of the children jumping up and down upon seeing us arrive and running after us as we leave, and, of course, laughing during our play. Then there are some children who are shy and even apprehensive but after a little while they start to smile and laugh and want to play and wear a clown nose, too! This is so heart-warming to see. The joy is to share an experience together and make a connection. Even if only for a brief moment. I hope that I have contributed a little to these children's lives.

Over the course of a month, we have all together reached out to over two thousand children.

Here are some of them:

All photos above by Renny Antoni (except boy with clown nose in red T-shirt by AZ)

Last show in Jakarta!

2010-02-27T23:31:00.002-05:00

On Saturday, February 27, we headed back to Cilincing to do a show at the elementary school!

This is the same school where the younger children go who we've been working with over the past few weeks. Finally they get to see us goof around in a performance for them! We all had a blast.

BALI

2010-02-19T08:48:00.000-05:00

For two weeks I'm off to Bali -- to explore Balinese culture and, specifically, to study mask! This is a separate project (and funded separately) from my clowning around with the kids. Last week of February I return to Jakarta for a few more shows and workshops!

Bali. Beautiful island with beautiful nature and beautiful temples and beautiful ceremonies and beautiful people.

Rumah Sakit Kanker

2010-02-09T18:45:00.004-05:00

Saturday February 6

Today I went to the main cancer hospital here in Jakarta, called Dharimais, and played with the kids there. I joined a few students from Jakarta International High School, who sometimes come on Saturdays to visit and do activities with the children. Don't think they've ever had a clown visit, though! About six children aged 3-8 joined in the play room, plus two teenagers. I would have liked to have gone room to room, so that those children too sick to go to the play room could also have a fun visit! (They probably need it most, although of course sometimes a visit is not appropriate, one has to be sensitive to the circumstances.) However, it was decided we stay in the play room.

Sakia is the first to arrive, a girl of about 3 or so. I take out my slide whistle and start playing, making funny noises. Sakia starts to giggle: "it sounds like a baby," she says. (Luckily one of the students accompanying can translate!). I let her try too (of course, I clean the whistle each time). Later I play with a giant comb, pretending it's a musical instrument and singing along. Sakia asks: "Why is she singing with a comb?" (good question!) and then blurts out "She sounds like a cat!" What a cutie.

More kids arrive and I do a little of my cleaning woman routine, sweeping and dusting. I sweep the kids' feet -- so simple, yet so funny to the kids. One of the kids has lion slippers, so there's a game right there: petting the little lion and getting bitten, etc.

Each kid gets a clown nose, which they are shy to receive and even shier to put on. After a little while, however, as I'm clowning around, they start to try to put their noses on, unprompted.

While we are playing, the doctor comes in to check on a little boy. He wants the boy to stand up so they can check his strength. The boy stubbornly refuses. It's up to me to coax him with a little clowning. I don't even remember what we were doing, but at some point the boy stands up by himself, caught up in the game and forgetting he was not going to. Then the doctor wants to get the boy to walk around a bit. Again, the boy is not having it. Uh-oh. What to do...? He did like the giant scissor I was playing with before, which one of the JIS students picks up to coax him with, and suddenly a game gets started where he is trying to get me with the scissor and cut my dress, and starts chasing after me. All of a sudden, the boy gets up and starts walking! Ha! The boy had fun, and the doctor got what he wanted. Yey!

When I leave, we walk down the hall and as I pass by the rooms, I see Sakia returning to one of them. She points to me and exclaims: "Badut!" That is: "Clown!"

Street working children in Jakarta

2010-02-07T14:05:00.002-05:00

Little children selling newspapers in the middle of traffic at ten o’clock at night. Breaks my heart. At the side of the road is the adult watching them and making sure they work (and taking all the money).

x

Some observations and experiences in Jakarta

2010-02-07T13:45:00.005-05:00

I went to visit the main mosque in Jakarta – it’s the biggest mosque in Southeast Asia. It's gigantic. Standing in front of it, as I’m listening to the afternoon prayer, this little kid comes up to me to beg for money showing me his broken flip-flop. And I say, Where can I buy you new shoes? Because I'm not giving money. It’s hard to know when it’s a ruse by an adult, sending a child for sympathy to get them money, and I don’t want to encourage begging. I doubt he’s gonna get a new flip-flop out of it, in any case. Then more kids and adults started approaching when they saw me stopped there. So I decided in lieu of giving money (and not having any new flip-flops to offer), to clown a bit for them and do a silly magic trick. Suddenly I had 20 people around me! We shared a fun moment together. They were thoroughly entertained by this strange blonde “bule” woman, clowning around with them. Hopefully, I gave them something money can't buy.

The other day I was on the street and a bunch of kids (teenagers and young adults) were grouped together across the street, all dressed in orange and black and had an Indonesian flag, and, as I gathered, they were on their way to a football game. They saw me taking pictures and started jumping up and down, waving and posing. Then when they drove by in their van (some sitting on the roof), they said "jump in", "come along" or some such (I don’t speak Indonesian, so I’m not sure, but I got the gist) -- so I did! It was very funny. So I rode along for a bit and we had fun and laughed. Then after a bit, I said I have to get off, stop the car!!! Luckily, I found my way back to my street. And picked up some good tofu from a street vendor on the way! Gotta get some when you can get some. Saya tidak makan daging!

Some days later on the way to a show, we drove by all these buses with youngsters, also dressed in orange and black, with whole mobs sitting on top of the buses, as they were driving along on the way to the football game. Crazy!

At another time, I was downtown at the big national monument in the center of Jakarta, the Monas, and I was surprised there were no tourists there, well, no foreign tourists -- there were loads of Indonesian tourists (I guess they were tourists from outside Jakarta). Several came up to me and asked to take photo with me – I became a tourist attraction! This keeps happening. To people in central Jakarta, it’s not that strange to see a foreigner (and a blonde one, to boot), but certainly to folks from other provinces, as well as to the kids out in the slums, it’s more of a rare sight. Something they just see on television – and here’s a real, live one!

The kids stare at me like I’m a space alien. And then they giggle and say “good morning!” Even if it’s afternoon. Because that’s all they learned. Good morning, good morning, good morning!

The kids love to be "scared" and chased. It's funny. More so, it seems, than other kids I've come across. I play this "game" with the kids in the neighborhood where I'm staying with Dan. Because I see them staring at me, so I make a funny face, and pretend to be a monster. Aaaah, they run off. Then they approach again. So I do it again. And it becomes a game. One little boy who came by on his bike, saw me make a scary face, and got a bit scared for real: Mommy, mommy, he yells, pedaling away. But then he comes back. Eventually, he becomes the one most engaged in the game, coming closer and closer, I pretend to not notice, and then I do my monster move, aaaaah! And they run off laughing and giggling. And it starts all over again.

x