Darren in Pakistan and India

The End

2006-12-18T20:08:00.000-07:00

So I'm closing this blog. That's it. Went from Nov 17 - Dec 17 2006.
May post some final comments eventually but just want to make it official that this one is done. Thanks for checking it. Bye.

What I'm Into

2006-12-18T19:55:00.000-07:00

I was given Sunday morning to hang out and work with the group but people wanted to sleep in so they suggested we could do a public space activity at a nightclub.

I adapted my piece Looking to Get Laid. In LTGL I made these tiny little surveys that fit into little plastic nametags that were essentially sexual profiles not unlike something you might see on Lavalife or whatever. I would go around a party, survey people and then pin the survey onto them. People would read each other's surveys and determine if they were compatible.

for this we just got to the bar early armed with a bunch of blank nametags and some felts and distributed them, writing people's names and what they were "into." The stickers rapidly became commodities as more and more people in the bar were wearing them. People began to demand them.

complicated presentation

2006-12-18T19:49:00.000-07:00

So for the final Saturday I asked everyone to make a small piece from the interview they did with the other person and include a reference to themselves. So, they would just retell a couple of stories from the other person's life and include a piece of their own.

Then I asked them to teach it to another person and, in turn, learn theirs. So, at this point, they had some stories from their life, from the life of the person they first interviewed, the new person and the person the new person had interviewed. I asked them to amalgamate all of this into a new piece.

Then I asked them to find another partner and teach them the piece and, in turn, learn their piece. And amalgamate them. So, at this point, they had the stories of eight people.

Then I asked them to do it all again. Thus they would have the stories of 16 people but there were only 12 of them so they would have started to hear some stories repeated like in the broken telephone game.

Then they performed the whole thing one at a time. Some were really good. And there was some really nice accidental writing. I have no idea if such an excersise would be of any use but it was interesting to watch. It also sort of forced them to make a bunch of random quick decisions and stick with them and not be attached to perfecting anything.

Massage

2006-12-16T07:15:00.000-07:00

For my time yesterday I arranged a massage session for all the housekeeping staff who clean all of our rooms. We did about 10 massages and offered them orange juice and champagne. Cheap champagne.

Presentation

2006-12-15T07:46:00.000-07:00

On our first day here Istvan divided us into small groups and assigned us a film to watch. I was with Ottelie and Jennifer and we had Ghostbusters. After watching it we were expected to make a 10 minute piece. There's nothing like collaborating with people you don't know.

We worked on it awkwardly and halfheartedly, nervous that our aesthetics were incompatible. I pushed hard for my casual extemporaneous personal story talking thing complete with questions from the audience. I was probably too pushy but I was eager to demonstrate that all the exercises I had been giving them can actually be incorporated into a performance. In the end Jen got tough with her agenda and did some choreography on us though we still fought to the end about transitions and polish, the lack of time working in my favour.

We just told and sort of demonstrated 3 personal stories - one for each of us - and fielded questions. There were a few theatrical and choreographic touches. Ottelie's story was about playing doctor games as a child with a friend after they had got themselves turned on by watching Ghostbusters. My story was about being possessed and attacked by a Succubus. Jen's story was about her first dancing epiphany that occurred when a teacher gave her permission to improv during the opening sequence of the song Ghostbusters. The stories were not told by the person but retold by the other two. The question asked of jen by the audience was whether or not she remembered the choreography which played perfectly into our hands as the plan was for her to teach it to us and then for all three of us to do this cheesy jazz thing together. so when the question was asked Jen said 'yeah, can i teach it to you guys?' Ottelie and I then pretended to learn it for the first time - becoming very good very quickly (we had rehearsed). We finished the piece with a story about how Ray Parker Jr. was sued by Huey Lewis for stealing parts of the song from I Want A New Drug and we played the opening of both songs, alternating back and forth (it's pretty identical) and got the audience up to dance with us. We also drank coke all the way through because there was so much product placement in the film.

I think it worked really well (but this is my bias) because we actually connected directly to the audience and we had content that was very meaningful to us. Much of the other work, while often having some really nice and imaginative images, movement, choreography and tech stuff tended to remain behind the forth wall and was very insular. personally, when there's not a direct engagement with me in the audience, I tend to drift and think about other stuff no matter how bizarre and striking an image is.

to the Green Monkey

2006-12-15T07:15:00.000-07:00

I actually had a dream that I met you and you gave me a picture of yourself. In the dream you were someone I knew - can't recall who, though. Younger than me. Female. And short. With a boyfriend. That's all I can remember.

winging it

2006-12-14T14:09:00.000-07:00

I've never led an extended workshop like this. I'm just making the shit up as I go and hoping no one notices my impostor complex. I'm doing stuff that's interesting for me so all I can do is hope that some of the others feel similarly.

Today I paired people up and got them to interview each other. And then we all came together and I asked the pairs to agree on a section of the conversation that was particular interesting - where the conversation crackled. then we went around the circle as each pair attempted to reproduce the conversation in front of the rest of the group. Most were really good at it but some seemed to be trying to stick too close to the original or something. I asked them to keep an eye on that zone between faking it and feeling it. it was an exercise in working with something that's somewhat predetermined but still remaining in the moment. Particularly useful when working extemporaneously but repeatedly. Like in Diplomatic Immunities. Feeling like the way I can be the most useful here is by emphasizing performance that takes into account the others in the room whether that's performers or audience. That keeps a real connection with contingency while still remaining on a predetermined track. or something. i don't know.

For the next session I will complicate it in a Lacanian way. Stay tuned.

Out of My League

2006-12-14T07:00:00.000-07:00

Yesterday I asked the participants to go to town alone and approach someone who they think is their opposite and ask them a bunch of personal questions. Then I asked them to approach someone who they think is "out of their league" and tell the person this fact and see if the person agrees. I love that exercise. It confounds propriety along two planes: the nervousness against talking to strangers in public and the prohibition against assuming low status.

Some of the participants stepped up but it seemed like many did not. Only a few participated in the discussion afterward, many sitting in silence leading me to believe they spent the hour shopping. Which is fine. Not doing the exercise is doing the exercise - it will still engage them around their relationship with themselves and the social. Surprisingly - or perhaps not so - Istvan has a real resistance to this practice. For a guy who loves to spray blood and shock the public with convulsive pelvis thrusting he seems (perhaps predictably) unable to let himself be vulnerable and simple with strangers.

Art

2006-12-12T23:02:00.000-07:00

yeah art. ugh.
so the mindbending continues. from the slums of asia to the banff centre dining hall. it's too much. and then there's the workshop. i write this with the assumption that some of the participants will read it. they're mostly from a dance background. i didn't know that would be the case. i think dance is about as ridiculous as theatre - often more so. sweet people and all. we're in the midst of an exploration of the creation process of the three "monitors": me, istvan kantor and Tedd Robinson. Nice guys. But we're stripping down our process to the bare, ridiculous and embarrassing minimum. we're dancers exploring movement in a studio. i haven't this kind of stuff since 1988 at UofA. it's times like these that i really feel like a neophilistine. I do really truly dislike art most of the time. it seems so pointless.

i dragged everybody down to the Starbucks to have a party. I asked the participants to strike up conversations with people there. There were about 14 of us so the vibe in the whole place changed with all of our chattering. we had a good talk afterwards. some familiar questions about ethics. a concern that we were being 'fake' when we approached the people because we had an agenda. i don't buy that. the desire to talk is still real even if it's, ultimately triggered by a workshop leader assigning the task. istvan complained about the emptiness of shallow conversation and i disagreed saying that even shallow conversation reveals lots of stuff about the speakers. the distinction between shallow and deep conversation seems to be similar to the distinction between high and popular art. nobody bothers with that distinction anymore. it just doesn't make sense.

some thoughts on being a neophilistine from Social Acupuncture:

Perhaps our thinking needs a new approach to philistinism,
one that considers art from a very critical – if not skeptical –
angle. The term ‘philistine’ usually refers to middle-class
people indifferent or antagonistic to artistic and cultural
values, preferring material enhancement. The term contrasts
with bohemianism, which traditionally evokes individuals
uninterested in the material, preferring a care-free, roving
lifestyle of detachment. But currently, we see a new kind of
bohemianism intentionally practiced by horny capital in
places of speedy gentrification like Brooklyn’s Williamsburg
and Toronto’s Queen West. This leaves us the possibility
of a neo-philistinism that sits in opposition to this neobohemianism. As with old philistines, there remains a suspicion of artistic endeavours that don’t engage with the material,
specifically the material of the viewer’s body – and a
privileging of work that accumulates capital, but not just any
capital: social capital. Neo-bohemianism, on the other hand,
would describe a hypocritical affectation of a commitment to
a non-material, more carefree approach to life, in a vain (pun
intended) attempt to mask a desperate and nasty elitism and
classism. James Vision, programmer at De Leon White
Gallery, in an interview with Diplomatic Immunities and while
wearing a shirt emblazoned with the word ‘bohemian,’
displays this kind of headspace as he talks excitedly about
social cleansing: ‘The changes [along Queen West] create
an environment that cuts out that street-level class of individuals. It’s a whole different crowd coming down to the area:
people with money, people that are responsible with direction
in their life.’

There’s an urgent need for those of us interested in
addressing global inequities to spend the time envisioning
and developing new social relations. Adopting a loose, flexible
neo-philistinism that has a clear grasp of the constantly shifting strategic uses of art and culture could provide a compass
to help us strategize in our own artistic practice and consumption. Avoiding art and artistic practices that don’t directly and
tangibly question the material differentials and how they play
out in the global economic field would not be absolute, but the
guide for a temporary strategy.

Perhaps, then, we have the possibility of the neophilistinian artist as social impresario, a skeptical coordinator
of unlikely or particularly charged encounters, working out of
a selfish need to make her world a better place and masquerading as a do-gooder to generate support from both private and
public sectors. When ambition and desire for a shit-hot career drive the artist to acts of social good, who cares that the motivations are less than pure? The funding (public and private)
and support milieu (media, galleries, boutique hotels)
can conspire to reward rigorous acts of progressive social
engagement.

Banff

2006-12-11T19:20:00.000-07:00

Because of the rapid switches in contexts, experiences, and all the incredible contrasts that have characterized the last three weeks, I thought I would continue to blog a bit because now I've landed in Banff to be a sort of co-coordinator in the this thing.

Info here: http://www.mcsquared.com/springboard/interrarium.htm

I got off the plane early yesterday from India and got on the plane early today for Banff. In between I hung out with a bunch of friends at Netami's birthday party, met my friend Marnie for brunch, hung out with my Anh-Thi, then over to Dan's place for dinner with him, Stephanie, Jennifer and Marie Paul. Now I'm in the mountains.

Welcome to Eye Weekly Readers

2006-12-11T04:55:00.000-07:00

Thanks for taking a look at the blog.

Dale Duncan from Eye Magazine interviewed me about the project while I was in Mumbai. The interview appears in this weeks issue but, as it is with space constraints, she wasn't able to include everything. Here are her original questions and my original answers.


> 
> Though you didn't do much Q&A, do you know the
> reasons why were you  
> invited to do it in the first place? Why invite a
> Canadian to  
> participate in a festival about Punjab culture?

Shafiq Butt, the organizer, took part in the Q&A when
I did it during the World Urban Forum in Vancouver. He
was, in fact, one of the more enthusiastic
questioners. He came up to me after the show and
demanded an explanation of what had just happen,
looking to understand my motivations. He said that
such a performance would be valuable in his festival
because of the cultural reluctance to ask prying
questions. He felt it would be a good thing because
Punjabi speaking people could get up on stage and
speak about themselves in their mother tongue.

>
> On your MDR website, when you write about taking Q&A
> to schools, you  
> say that "noncontextual socializing is rarely
> experienced, as the  
> interaction of the multitude in the commons is no
> longer part of our  
> collective experience." You mention a student from
> India who said  
> that "in Canada, social engagement occurs via
> consumed activities,  
> while in India, people tend to socialize by helping
> each other out."  
> How does socializing and social engagement differ in
> Pakistan and how  
> did this affect how Q&A was received?

It's hard to talk about "Pakistan." I was at a big
festival in a rural area so the context was quite
unusual - you couldn't, for example, make
generalizations about North American behavior based on
what you saw at Burning Man. 

But,in any case, from my limited experience, it looked
like socializing came much more naturally. People
tended to just hang out much more with a clock-based
time not holding the same kind of importance as it
does for the West. A couple members of my host
organization Punjab Lok Rahs made a similar
observation. However I don't imagine there's much of
an opportunity to ask personal questions of strangers
- something Pakistan shares with Canada. Nor is there
much opportunity for the rural Pakistani to get up on
a stage and address a large gathering of people about
the small insignificant details of their lives - a
phenomonon that is becoming more common in the west
with Blogs and YouTube etc.



 You mentioned
> on your blog  
> that when a woman was on stage, the audience seemed
> more eager to ask  
> questions, for example.) Were the kinds of questions
> the audience  
> asked different from the kinds of question audience
> members in Canada  
> asked? (You may not know the answer to this as it
> sounds like they  
> weren't speaking in English.)

The relationship between the sexes in Pakistan is
confusing for me. Women are undoubtedly second class
citizens and their company is devalued. But they're
also sacralized and vigoursly protected by the men
from the men. I really didn't enjoy this aspect, being
the kind of guy who prefers the company of women. The
problematic questions the guys asked the women were
simply the silly questions that any nervous boys would
ask a girl. (remember this happened during the school
program so it was students) And, you're right, I had
no idea what was being asked during the other session.
I will screen it with my collaborator Faisal Anwar in
Toronto and he'll help me understand. 



> 
> On your blog you describe the relationship between
> men and women in  
> Pakistan as well as its family focused culture. How
> did restrictions  
> on certain types of social interactions affect your
> experience and  
> your relationships or ability to engage with others
> in general? (You  
> mentioned on your blog that when few women were
> around, you were left  
> bored and frustrated by the lack of possibilities to
> flirt and that  
> some men were frustrated when you paid more
> attention to women.)

For the most part I was hanging around with theatre
artists and activist who had a relatively progressive
attitude so the socializing was quite mixed. I feel,
however, that the fact that I experienced more joy
with the women, often preferring the company of one
particular extended family (two 45ish year old sisters
and their six daughters and sons ranging in age from
10-24) seemed to attract some mild interest. People
teased me about this, saying that there was a much
more joyful expression on my face when talking to
women. I confessed entirely, saying yes it's true and
that seemed to make it okay.

I think it's really important to point out that there
are plenty of situations in Canada, plenty of
'cultures' within the mainstream white canadian scene
where guys have a better time socializing with guys.
And I avoid those situations when I'm in Canada, too.
But, when in those situations, my tendency to prefer
the company of women would also, i think, trigger
comment. But in Canada a guy wouldn't express honest
hurt at my prefering the company of women like one guy
did in Pakistan, he would, instead, simply call me a
"fag."

In Sahiwal - a small city - the difference was that
there simply were no women on the streets or in the
shops. They were all at home, I guess. This was the
hardest to deal with. Boys Club culture seems to be
pretty universal but the lack of women in the public
realm was the most disconcerting. It just made me feel
lonely.


> 
> Despite all the cultural differences, what was
> similar about the Q&A  
> that took place here and the Q&As you've done
> elsewhere?

The enthusiasm of the people to participate.
Everywhere I do Q&A people are excited to get up on
stage and answer meaningless questions about the small
details of their lives. And people seem happy to ask
them. I felt in Pakistan during the bootleg session I
conducted with the help and encouragement of the
Boalians, this was even more the case. The audience
would run to the stage and clamour to be the next
subject. It seemed to make sense in the context of the
Mela (that word just means festival) where they had
spent five days watching other people perform and now
here was their chance. I would really like to go back
and try it on a bigger scale next year.


>
> Are you planning to do Q&A anywhere else in the
> future? A repeat  
> performance in Toronto, perhaps?

I'm doing it in Calgary in early January as part of
the Performance Creation Canada Conference. It's
actually a module that is used within the larger
Diplomatic Immunities project which premieres in it's
full form at Buddies in Bad Times in February. So we
will use it in the context of the bigger show.


> 
> What will you remember the most from this trip?

So many things. There are a few people who I will
probably think about and most definitely stay in touch
with. The generosity was the most memorable thing.
I'm planning on creating a solo show about the
experience with a particular focus on the different
approaches to generosity (and some other stuff) called
A Free Show for the People of Pakistan.

It's funny, the thing I thought I would remember the
most was the total cultural confusion I felt when I
first arrived. But once I had gotten used - to a small
degree - to how things worked it was difficult to
recall that confused sensation.

at home with my two souvenirs

2006-12-10T01:40:00.000-07:00

after 32 hours of travel

2006-12-10T01:30:00.000-07:00

I'm home.

At the airport a guy called out - offering me his taxi - from the further lane where people can pick up their loved ones. The lane next to the building is reserved for the special designated airport limos. I walked over to him and an airport security guy came running up, yelling that it was not a real cab and that i shouldn't take it. I don't like being told what to do by security guards. Afterall, What do I care, the guys got a car, he can drive. He was from Delhi, we talked about my trip and about Scotty the airport security guy who makes it tough for anybody other than the special cabs to pick up a fare. The airporter guys drive people downtown and then they pay off the doormen in hotels to give them fares in the city to take to the airport. But only city cabs are supposed to do that. So the guy who was driving me and other guys go to the airport and pick people up.

I think I may phone in and complain. The guy was in public space and offering me a ride, Scotty is in no position to try to get me to not take the ride. It was intrusive.

So I went to my friend, Natami's birthday at the Sparrow as soon as I arrived. I'm not tired and am only here one day and missed my friends. I'm in Banff for a week so I'll be missing some of the fun as everyone gears up for xmas.

Lots to say about my trip. Glad to be back. Watched Little Miss Sunshine on the plane and had to hide under my blanket so people wouldn't see me weeping - the part where the son flips out because he realizes his career plans may not work out. Just over-tired and stress. There was also this old India lady sitting across the aisle from me. She offered me her headset, though, of course, I had my own. I had to put the blanket on my head to cry after that too.

stupid travel agent

2006-12-08T21:55:00.000-07:00

so my stupid travel agent books a flight from mumbai to doha with a 40 minute tranfer in Doha to my flight to London. Of course the first flight is late so I miss the second. So i'll miss my flight to TO and catch a later one and get in really late. Oh well. There's a tendency for people to tell you not to worry, that you'll catch the flight - everybody at mumbai and all the staff on the flight here kept saying that. 'they always wait' they said. my pessimism didn't help me be anything but right. but what good is right?

shout out to Bilal

2006-12-08T06:11:00.000-07:00

This post is for Lahore filmmaker Bilal, a friend of Saniya's

I watched Javaid Shampoo and really enjoyed it. It's funny, I've been referencing the films of Whit Stillman to try to give my North American friends an idea of what my time is like here and Javaid Shapoo really reminded me of some of his work. You should check them out. He takes his time so he's only made three: Metropolitan, Barcelona and The Last Days of Disco. I think you might like the characters - very much like some of the characters in your film - and the way people of differing politcal stripes chill out and chat together. If you have a hard time finding them I could send them to Saniya.

Also really enjoyed the cast. All very strong.

Anyway, just wanted to say hi.

Rehan's new girlfriend gets burned

2006-12-08T05:25:00.000-07:00

Here's a photo of Rehan's new girlfriend resting after a brush with disaster. He was a little upset that her bottom got burned. Apparently he made an emergency 1 AM phone call to Saniya from the bathroom of a nightclub to sort out what exactly had happened. I believe she'll be okay. What doesn't kill her makes her stonger.

I think he's getting tired of me and needs his space. I was criticized this morning for bringing home zucchini tarts for breakfast instead of bread. I've given him an ultimatum: either I leave or we get married. There's no middle ground.

pics from lunch and the ride to Dheravi

2006-12-08T01:35:00.000-07:00

Lunch with the girls from Dheravi

2006-12-07T06:52:00.000-07:00

Saniya and I made a big spaghetti meal for the girls from Dheravi - 4 of them: Anita, Sonal, Asha, Supnali and Anita's brother. Rehan and one of his colleagues, Anshika who works as a court reporter at the paper, dropped by and joined us.

It was fun, as expected. I sang for them (Remix to Ignition) and Supnali insisted on learning it word for word. Then we pestered them with questions about their life, offered details about our lives. I worried that we were draining them with our curiosity, not to mention intruding to a certain extent. But they're pretty tough and didn't answer anything they didn't want to.

They spend a lot of time at a community centre taking classes, having meetings, organizing rallies, having discussions about various neighborhood and personal issues like women's rights, sexuality, lack of consistent gas, water etc. Sonal is the youngest at 15, Supnali is 17, Asha 18, Anita 27 and her brother 28. They performed a bit from the play that i missed at the Peace festival. It was funny. It's about a multireligious crowd surrounding a dead body and arguing whether or not they should burn it (the Hindu assumes it's a Hindu body) or whether they should bury it (if, as the Muslim's assume it's a Muslim body). Finally someone suggests it's a Dalit and they all recoil at the thought of touching it. In the end, it's not even a body, it's a guy taking a nap who wakes up and complains about the noise of all the arguing around him.

We all went back to Dheravi, this time in three rickshaws through dense crazy traffic, Saniya and Sonal in one; me, Supnali and Asha in another and Anita and her brother in the third. It was hilarious fun. The traffic was tight so we were often within sight of each other. We passed the camera from speeding, careening rickshaw to speeding careening rickshaw, taking pictures of each other.

When we arrived, they invited us to their homes. So we quickly dropped by each place, saying hi to the mothers, sisters, brothers and grandfathers we had met the other day. Anita's brother told Saniya that he thought some of the other adults (not the relatives) viewed our friendships with an understandable degree of skepticism and didn't like to see the youth so happy with us. I asked if there might be some repercussions for them and Saniya figured there wouldn't. The parents, grandparents and siblings all seemed cool with our presence. But we kept it brief so as not to disrupt too much. Sonal and Ashwaria - Anita's neice - fought over my camera and took a bunch of pics. They insisted that I get up and dance so they could take pics of me.

In Asha's place there was a young girl lying sort of dazed on the floor. Asha's mother told us that the child's mother had recently gone crazy and then somehow died. When the kid is feeling lonely she comes by.

We left, feeling a little dazed. I hope I can stick to my resolution to keep in touch. Am curious to see how the next 20 years treat us all.

The extremes here are really tough for me. The ubiquity and completely assuming-to-the-point-of-invisibility nature of so many of the people who operate the elevators, drive the cabs, the rickshaws, wash the clothing, iron the clothing, etc is a little too much for me. The same thoughts over and over again. How could I live here? How can I live anywhere?

I'm reminded of the time I went to Swatow, the Chinese restaurant on Spadina, with a friend and her younger hippy brother from BC. He was so intent on making a meaningful connection with the wait staff it was hilarious and, while not patronizing, still assumed a power imbalance that he thought he could address with meaningless chit chat. I also dated a woman who felt the need to engage every single cab driver in a conversation. It sometimes felt ridiculous. How does one treat the help? Are real friendships possible across such economic divides?

With, for example, the girls from Dheravi am I just a shallow Canadian dork, clumsily crashing through communities, stupidly choosing to ignore realities which, when ignored, give me away as some kind of an imbecile?

last days

2006-12-06T22:27:00.000-07:00

It started to feel like the last days yesterday. Which is fine. Feeling like I need to tackle a few things that are tough to deal with on the road. Need to edit some video and do some planning for work in Toronto.

I've met so many great, generous and interesting people. A partial Mumbai list:

Aroosha, the diplomat. Didn't get a chance to spend enough time with her. Hope to see her again tonight. Saw her at a salsa bar the other night but was too tired to enjoy myself.

Nida, the journalist. Really enjoyed hanging around with her for a day. Great conversations about the value of theatre and other more interesting things. She's wickedly smart.

Taran, the journalist. Didn't talk to her much but enjoyed the small time together at the Peace Festival. Another very smart and wonderfully nice person. Also like her husband, a quiet but very funny guy. Again, wish I could continue these friendships.

Hena, the editor. Had drinks with her last night at Saniya's. Another friendly person with a nice handshake.

Babar, the textile guy. Saniya's husband. He split town just after I got here which was too bad. I had bumped into him at the India consulate when I was getting my visa and was hoping we'd spend more time together. On my second night here he said there's something 'rural' about me which I really appreciated.

Sonal, the drama kid. Lunch with today. She seems very ambitious. Teaches dance classes and is very assertive. Came up to me and after two sentences (hi my name is sonal, I'm christian) she invited me to her place.

Anita, another drama person. Sonal's friend from the peace festival. Funny smile, always smiling, with what feels like intelligence. My hindi is weak so communication is hard. Will spend more time with her today.

Rehan, the editor. What a life this guy leads. It's one of the few times where the real life version stacks up against my filmic notion of what it is to be the editor of the international section of a large national newspaper. The only thing that was missing in his life was an espresso maker and I brought one from Toronto. He can die now, certain his life has been complete.

Saniya, the filmmaker. Another charmed life. The ease with which these two live is instructive. So little stress and so much fun. Life here is a rickshaw ride: there may be a few potholes, but nothing that going slow can't handle. I was watching a film she acted in this morning - something she had made with her current collaborator. It's really good. Well shot and well written. I'm looking forward to watching her career unfold.

That's the Mumbai people. Will do an inventory of the Pakistanis later.

The Dalit hate Ghandi

2006-12-06T07:52:00.000-07:00

Interestingly, Ghandi tended to romanticize the Dalit and their rural lifestyle while Ambedkar wanted them to move to the city and get educated. Ghandi's famous hunger strike was in response to Ambedkar's move to join with the British to grant the Dalit the right to elect their own representatives.

this from a Dalit advocate:
http://www.countercurrents.org/dalit-mountain200306.htm

and this from Ambedkar's Wikipedia page: (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/B._R._Ambedkar)
I like his idea of "divine discontent."

Ambedkar had become one of the most prominent untouchable political figures of the time. He had grown increasingly critical of mainstream Indian political parties for their perceived lack of emphasis for the elimination of the caste system. Ambedkar criticized the Indian National Congress and its leader Mahatma Gandhi, whom he accused of reducing the untouchable community to a figure of pathos. Ambedkar was also dissatisfied with the failures of British rule, and advocated a political identity for untouchables separate from both the Congress and the British. At a Depressed Classes Conference on August 8, 1930 Ambedkar outlined his political vision:
"...Safety of the Depressed Classes hinged on their being independent of the Government and the Congress" both: "We must shape our course ourselves and by ourselves... Political power cannot be a panacea for the ills of the Depressed Classes. Their salvation lies in their social elevation. They must cleanse their evil habits. They must improve their bad ways of living.... They must be educated.... There is a great necessity to disturb their pathetic contentment and to instill into them that divine discontent which is the spring of all elevation."
[7]
In this speech, Ambedkar criticized the Salt Satyagraha launched by Gandhi and the Congress. Ambedkar's criticisms and political work had made him very unpopular with orthodox Hindus, as well as many Congress politicians who had condemned untouchability and worked against discrimination across India. His prominence and popular support amongst the untouchable community had increased, and he was invited to attend the Second Round Table Conference in London in 1931. Here he sparred verbally with Gandhi on the question of awarding separate electorates to untouchables.[7] A fierce opponent of separate electorates on religious and sectarian lines, Gandhi feared that separate electorates for untouchables would divide Hindu society for future generations.
When the British agreed with Ambedkar and announced the awarding of separate electorates, Gandhi began a fast-unto-death while imprisoned in the Yeravada Central Jail of Pune in 1932. Exhorting orthodox Hindu society to eliminate discrimination and untouchability, Gandhi asked for the political and social unity of Hindus. Gandhi's fast provoked great public support across India, and orthodox Hindu leaders, Congress politicians and activists such as Madan Mohan Malaviya and Pawlankar Baloo organized joint meetings with Ambedkar and his supporters at Yeravada. Fearing a communal reprisal and killings of untouchables, had Gandhi died, Ambedkar agreed to drop the demand for separate electorates, under massive coercion from the supporters of Gandhi, and settled for a reservation of seats. Ambedkar was to criticise the fast of Gandhi as a gimmick to deny political rights to the untouchables and the coercion he faced to give up the demand of separate electorates, in all his writings later.

slum pics from taxi

2006-12-06T06:06:00.000-07:00

more on Ambedkar

2006-12-06T05:52:00.000-07:00

he's often depicted with his wife who is rendered like a holy figure.

representations of him everywhere

this colour seems to have been claimed by the Dalits. The same wheel that's on the Indian flag but with this rich indigo colour. Many people were wearing the colour in accessories: shawls, headbands, ribbons, bindi-like marks, etc.

streets around the main park were packed with people. you can see an indigo headband on the child on the right.

Went to the celebrations. The day I arrived the Dalits were all over the news because they were rioting in Mumbai and elsewhere. A Dalit family had been killed in September, a statue of Ambedkar had been desecrated and a Dalit youth had been 'lynched.' I asked Rehan if the protests could be understood as similar to the protests of the Muslim youth in Paris last year. He said that was a good comparison.

Saniya told me that that many people feared violence today because so many Dalits were coming to town which explained why the traffic was dead as we went downtown to check out the festivities. The streets were totally packed but it was totally chilled. One woman who seemed like an expert on Ambedkar told me that 25 million people came to town. That's incredible. Almost the whole population of Canada. Who knows what the exact stat is but, whatever, millions of people came.

Dr. Ambedkar

2006-12-06T00:07:00.000-07:00

Today is the 50th anniversary of Dalit leader, Ambedkar's death. The Dalits used to be known as the Untouchables and were/are India's lowest caste.

More info: http://www.dalitnetwork.org/

There are 3 million expected to come to Mubai to visit Ambedkar's ashes today. We drove past a MASSIVE line-up last night of thousands and thousands of Dalits waiting to visit his tomb.

The schools and colleges in the city have closed both, i think, to celebrate but because getting around today will be very difficult.

Last night it looked as if there were more people sleeping on the streets - as it is people sleep in almost every corner of the city. But last night there were parking lots and sections of streets and medians and the line filled with relatively well-dressed people who looked like they were just in town for the event.

Coming Soon: Lunch with Sonal et al

2006-12-05T23:13:00.000-07:00

So we've invited Sonal, Anita, Supnali and Ayesha from the other day over for lunch tomorrow. The ones who were doing a play at the Peace Festival. (See photos below.)

If you have any questions for the girls about what's life like here, what's life like in Asia's biggest slum, etc then let me know. Here or at darren@mammalian.ca

Not that it will be a formal Q&A, that's just what tends to happen. They ask me about my life, I ask them about thier's.

Anyway, I would be happy to ask any questions you have. I'll see what they want to know about life in Canada and pass that on. Perhaps we can co-write a blog entry together.

We were going to invite them to dinner but they have a number to get water and their spot opens up at 6:30 so the evening is out. Or something like that.

rickshaws and cabs

2006-12-05T05:07:00.000-07:00

the rickshaws are impossible to see out of for someone my size.

in the cabs either my head is against the ceiling or my knees against the seat.

they're not parked. it's a traffic jam.

the rides are very cheap for me. they're everywhere.

Vandana

2006-12-05T05:03:00.000-07:00

Vandana is Rehan's maid, servant, domestic...etc

pics of the beach

2006-12-05T04:58:00.000-07:00

pics of Sonal, family and friends

2006-12-05T04:48:00.000-07:00

Supnali on the lfet, Anita on the right.

a whole bunch of the people we met. Anita is far back left wearing a blue shawl, Supnali is at the back to the right of Anita in the green and Ayesha is on the right in the pink dress with purple shawl.

Sonal feeding Saniya one of the sweets we brought.

Sonal, her grandmother, a friend, the friend's son and grandmother.

Me and Sonal.

Full Day

2006-12-05T01:00:00.000-07:00

Yesterday was full and, once again, characterized by extremes.

I'm actually managing to get work done in the morning. Currently writing a review of Hive, the performance thing that happened in Vancouver in November for the Canadian Theatre Review. I'm really happy to do this. I thought the whole thing was fantastic and many of the individual pieces brilliant. My objective is to write something that the artists will value, trying to engage with a dialogue with the ideas rather than a qualitiative assesment of the work, which most critics don't even bother with as they tend toward consumer advocacy when they're not being dick heads. Anyway, I've never written a review and I'm enjoying the discussion I'm having in my head with folks in Vancouver like Theatre Conspiracy, New World Theatre, Radix and Anita Rochon (forget her company name).

So wrote in the morning.

Then Saniya and I went to visist this kid I had met at the Peace Festival. Her name is Sonal, she's 15 and she was performing in a play. She came up to me and introduced herself, asking my name and then stating that she was a Christian. Then she invited me to her home. How could I say no? Saniya came along, helped me find the place and provided translation.

Sonal lives in Dharavi. Here's what Wikipedia says: (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dharavi)

"Dharavi is a heart-shaped settlement in central Mumbai, India. Sandwiched between Mahim in the west and Sion in the east, is Dharavi — Asia's largest slum. Spread over an area of 1.75 km² along the Mahim river, Dharavi is a bustling collection of contiguous settlements, each with its own identity. Dharavi is home to over a million people."

other info:
http://www.monash.edu.au/pubs/monmag/issue12-2003/research/dharavi.html
http://www.indiatogether.org/opinions/ddsouza/dharavi.htm
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/shared/spl/hi/world/06/dharavi_slum/html/dharavi_slum_intro.stm

all these articles, grabbed from a quick google search, mention the industriousness and the order within the slum. And that was my surprised experience too. It was in better shape that the other slum I had been in with the mosquito sprayers. And people's individual homes, while cramped, were very neat and clean. I don't know why I have this expectation that a slum will be in relative disarray. We met Sonal's friends and relatives. Hung out in a couple of rooms and talked to a 70 year old woman who had lived their all her life about the changes and over the years, how she felt about them. Her biggest criticism was that now there are "fights" over water. She laughed about this and some of the kids pretended to box to demonstrate "fight." Most places had colour TVs with the full cable universe. The conversation was easy and fun with both the adults and the kids. Again, the thing that strikes me is the ease of communication and all the cultural references or cultural ways of being that I share. My understanding of poverty and slums is so conditioned by so many images that render the dwellers wide-eyed, fly covered, disease-ridden and helpless. No doubt, poverty sucks and it didn't look like some utopian communal paradise but it was a lot more like hanging out with a bunch of friends than i had imagined.

Thinking about how easy it is for Sonal and her friends to invite me into their home and how easy it is for me to take a cab and barge in on grandmothers and uncles as they chill and watch tv, I thought, in full fairness I should return the invitation. So Saniya and I are going to invite Sonal and a few of her friends over to Saniya's place for dinner on Thursday night. We'll come and get them in a cab, bring them over, hang out with Saniya, Rehan and perhaps some of their friends, have some food and chill together. Very curious to see if they accept the invitiation. Anita is one of Sonal's friends, she's 27 and can act as a chaperone in case Sonal's grandmother is concern. Of course, Grandma is welcome, too. We'll see what happens.

Photos of these guys soon. Am not at my computer.

Then Saniya and I went for a stroll on the beach and we talked a lot about how her life has unfolded since she left Toronto. She's lived in NYC and been a TV host, lived in Lahore and acted in a film and a TV series and now is trying Mumbai to see if she can penetrate the indie film scene. I don't think she'll have a problem. She's collaborating with what sound like connected and successful people, she's intelligent and ambitious. We talked about the cities we've left behind (nyc and TO in her case and Edmonton in mine) and the trauma we both still feel from our university days. It sounds like her peers at UofT treated her like you would expect they would treat a vivacious and ambitious girl with a Pakistani accent. I asked her to describe how she felt coming from such a generous culture to such a guarded culture. As i suspected, it came as a surprise. She's pleased with my plans to create a show about Pakistani generosity called A Free Show for the People of Pakistan. It will be fun to run ideas past her.

She took me to a really nice, small 200 seat theatre. Thrust stage with a steeply raked audience making for great sight-lines. It would be an ideal place to do any one of my shows.

Then we checked out a fishing village located in the middle of the city. Apparently Mumbai is composed of 9 (i think) islands. The village was pretty incredible. People living in ways I had never contemplated. And fish everywhere. The smell was so thick and rich that it started to smell sweet, reminding me - believe it or not - of chocolate. We took a brief ferry to a place called Mud Island where they do a lot of film shooting. It felt pretty rural. We buzzed around in a rickshaw and saw houses surrounded by big bright white lights where shooting was happening. There were also fisherman living there in very uniform minibungalow-looking houses made from what appeared to be plastic or tivak. The uniformity was surprising. It was night and I didn't wanted to flashing my camera at people's translucent homes so I didn't get any photos.

Eventually we found a restaurant on the Island and had a beer, some great fried fish and rice.

Then we headed home. Rehand was up when I got in and we talked about Dec 6 which is a big day for the Dalit people. Their great leader died or something 50 years ago. In any case, tomorrow is a huge day. The papers are urging people to stay home because millions are expect and there has been violence recently when a Dalit family was murdered and the leaders statue was vanalized. All the Dalit leaders have been arrested to prevent violence - which sounds like a bad way to prevent violence.

I'm at Rehan's office right now to meet some of the reporters who might be covering the event. I'm hoping to find someone who will be willing to bring me along tomorrow.

more on servants: Saniya told me that there are always people coming by to see if there's work and, with the unemployment rates so high, it would be more obnoxious to turn them away. Why not give them work, she wanted to know.

sunday shots

2006-12-03T23:09:00.000-07:00

Nida orders something large at the Gymkana Club

Criketters at Gymkana

Saniya Sleeps

I ride train

rehan hits ball

luckily she's a dog

2006-12-03T23:07:00.000-07:00

and i'm a snake. so no compatibilty. i need to leave india crush-free.

some more Mela shots

2006-12-03T22:48:00.000-07:00

while having breakfast at the Mela I notice this striking young woman from the village who was preparing roti. She reminded me of my ex, the beautiful Veronika Hurnick as well as the american actress Chloe Sevigny. I was totally inconspicuous in my obversavtions. (yes, YN, it's true, I was, I promise you!!) Anyway, later, she commanded me to come over and she and the other woman teased me and insisted that I take thier photos. First shot is the Veronkia-like woman, second is her and other women from the village. The last two are sisters from Lahore who coordinated the food prep.

malls, mothers and walmart

2006-12-03T22:41:00.000-07:00

Driving into the centre of the city, we pass dense markets filled with tons of good. The place looks like Dufferin mall exploded onto the streets. Rehan tells me that Walmart is coming to town. I ask if he thinks Walmart has the power to disrupt the street markets. Rehans doubts it, saying that if the merchants perceive Walmart as a threat they'll burn it down. Direct democracy, I think.

We talk about the new proliferation of malls in Mumbai, Rehan saying that many of his workmates enjoy spending time there. I tell him about the Big Box phenomenon in North America and how, in the end, people are missing the hybrid public-private space that malls used to offer the suburban public, citing the loss of Morningside Mall in Toronto as an example of community disappointement of a de facto community space. We talk about our mothers who both found a strong sense of themselves through the people they interacted with while hanging out and working at the mall. In my mom's case, it was enough confidence to, finally, tell my dad to hit the road. As much as people dis them, malls, can have positive social affects, affects that the Big Box just can't match.

servants

2006-12-03T22:32:00.000-07:00

All of my friends here - old and new - have servants. It's a confusing question for me. As Rehan pointed out and as anyone half aware knows, if you wear a piece of clothing you didn't make yourself, you've just employed someone to serve you. Cab rides, restaurant service, the staff at the No Frills can all be thought of as serving you. Is there anything problematic in this? Is there anything someone else shouldn't do for you? Can a distinction be made between the tasks you possess the skills to do (but would rather not - ie: cleaning) and the things (like shoe manufacturing) that you can't do. Is that a valuable distinction. I asked Judy Rebick (i think it's judy - whoever writes the Dear Aunty column at Rabble.ca) if she considered domestic workers to be servants and she got all snippy with me, making me wonder if she's got someone cleaning her mess. Rehan mentioned a friend who had a bad reaction to the fact that he employed a servant. She said that when you pay someone to clean your own shit, you're in trouble. But things do get complicated. Vandana, Rehan's maid or servant or whatever, also works for others in the building and had taken care of someone's ailing mother who is repaying her by sending her son to college. Is this kind of reciprocity widespread?One thing I think I appreciate here is that the relationship of servitude is acknowledge rather than hidden through sanitized words like domestic worker. As the disparity between classes widens and more people become butlers and maids, keeping an awareness of the inequity of the dynamic is important.

sunday

2006-12-03T11:18:00.000-07:00

Saniya and Babar came over to Rehan's last night and Saniya made some great food. They wanted to go out dancing but I was wiped. I asked for a ten minute nap which stretched until the morning.

In the morning I went with Rehan to the Gymkana club and watched him play some squash. Then we went over and watch some cricket and had lunch at the main club building. I took a train with Nida, a woman I met at Rehan's office, to the International Peace Festival for an afternoon/evening of edifying culture. Saw a mime and wrote a joke:

Q: What's the best way to kill a mime?
A: Quickly.

Met a dancer/poet anmed Malavika who did a piece that was formally interesting. Content was well handled if a little familiar for the converted - lists of all the post 1492 atrocities and the like. But with humour, which is rare and some good audience interaction. Nida was fun to hang out with but, happily, as I'm a snake and she's a dog, there wasn't a single spark. Which is fine, the last thing I need is a crush on someone 10 time zones later.

a couple pics i forgot from Lahore

2006-12-02T07:19:00.000-07:00

this is Priya, Tahir's daughter. She was my best friend in Lahore.

big versions of the photos

2006-12-02T06:41:00.000-07:00

I just figured out that if you click on the photos you can see the full sized version.

bigger versions of some shots

2006-12-02T06:21:00.000-07:00

I had been using smaller images because of slower connection. Don't know if it's any faster. Now that I'm at Rehan's I might as well post the biggest version I can.

more spraying pics

2006-12-02T06:14:00.000-07:00

spraying for mosquitos in the slums

2006-12-02T05:58:00.000-07:00

I was walking around a shopping district of Bandra and moved off the main street into a less gentrified market. Behind the shops I saw some guys spraying some smoke. They told me they were activists who go around the slums of Bandra spraying against mosquitos to prevent malaria, dengue and another thing that had the word chicken in it. I walked around with them for an hour or so. We talked about the different degrees of poverty in India and Canada. Also played around with the kids, taking their photos and showing them. My guide laughed at how excited they all got to see thier photos and asked if children in Canada are the same. Yes, I said, in Canada, America and Pakistan. All kids love to have their photos taken.

The Snuggle Rocks

2006-12-02T05:49:00.000-07:00

Walked around Rehan's neighborhood this afternoon. Went down to check out the sea. A nice rocky area bound by large apartments and condos very much like Harbourfront. Movie stars live there, I was told. When the tide is out - as it was - the exposed rocks provide a place for young couples to snuggle.

pics from the whit stillman film

2006-12-02T01:14:00.000-07:00

pics from mumbai

2006-12-02T01:13:00.000-07:00

Aroosha the diplomat and our host at the Breach Candy Club

Babar and Saniay at the after hours bar

the pool shaped like prepartition India at the Breach Candy Club

Rehan and Babar at the bar

Saniya at Indigo Cafe

couple more

2006-12-02T01:03:00.000-07:00

i'll make them larger now.

Shehar, a kid I really liked.

all the participants in the bootleg Q&A

more pics from the Mela

2006-12-02T00:51:00.000-07:00

my adopted family: Banu, Marium, Rani, Abubakar, Ayesha, Amna, Hadika, Apel and Husnan

the audience for the brief and (perhaps) controversial student Q&A

the Boalians who saved the day: Sani, Samreen and Salman

women from the village making roti

the Drama Society in their room.

Photos from the Mela

2006-12-02T00:37:00.000-07:00

actor, Uxa, holds a boxcutter to my throat

one of the many huge tents

actor, ursa.

me and some kids

two actors. guy on the right is Asif.

Some Pakistani Jokes for Faisal

2006-12-02T00:27:00.000-07:00

These are some jokes I wrote on a bus from Sahiwal to Lahore. Dedicated to my friend and collaborator Faisal Anwar. Let me know if I cross any lines. I think they're all affectionate.

Q: How many goras does it take to screw in a light bulb?
A: Please, have a seat, take some tea and we'll get Baji to screw it in for you.

Q:What do you call a Pakistani with a broken cell phone?
A: Speechless.

Q: What do you call a Pakistani who is not talking on her cell phone?
A: Asleep.

Q: What did the Pathan say to his dying mother?
A: Let me know when you're done with those kidneys; my truck needs a new paint job.

Q:What do you call a Pakistani microphone without reverb?
A: Broken.

Q: How many Pakistanis does it take to plug in a blow dryer?
A: Two. One to plug it in and one to make sure the plug doesn't fall out of the socket.

Global Subjects

2006-12-02T00:14:00.000-07:00

Finished reading Multitude on the flight from Delhi to Mumbai. Rehan's got a copy of Stiglitz's (former head of the world bank) Making Globalization Work. Similar concerns in both books. And some similar recommendations.

After last night when I felt like I was in a Whit Stillman movie set in Mumbai, I'm struck by the access I have to such different worlds. Both worlds: rural Punjab, urban Mumbai feel about as unnatural and natural as the other. In lots of ways I feel at home in both or, at least, I can act my way through both. I feel lucky to be able to jet back and forth between these two realms but, more importantly - particulary when digesting the insights of Hardt and Negri - that the fact of my fluidity confirms - to a small degree - their optimism about the power of a global multitude. The ubiquity of the cell phone here both amongst the elitesters i'm chilling with now and all the rural types back in the Punjab means that there is a (growing?) awareness of a shared way of being and a (growing?) awareness of an inextricable mutuality. It's exciting to read Stiglitz agreeing with so many of the criticisms coming from antiglobalization types, perhaps providing the opportunity to check many of the excesses of capital's special interest groups. But the self-organizing aspects of H&N's multitude still remain mysterious and exciting. Watching the poor and the rich on their cells phones makes me think that something positive might come from all of this. But i won't get my hopes up. Besides, I've never owned a cell phone.

servants

2006-12-02T00:09:00.000-07:00

Many people are moving from the rural areas and providing cheap labour in the city. A servant can be hired for 50 dollars a month. They will do laundry, cook food and clean up. There are many drivers, too. People who drive you around and hang out in your car. I don't know how widespread it is. Keep in mind, I'm hanging around with newspaper editors, diplomats and filmmakers.

Rehan works for www.dnaindia.com
I wrote a series of articles about culture and gentrification for the paper last year. Journalism is hard work.

whit stillman

2006-12-01T15:08:00.000-07:00

suddenly i feel like a protagonist in a whit stillman film.

Rehan and I went for breakfast at Saniya (his sister) and Baber (her husband) place. Saniya is a theatre person/soon to be film person. she's developing a feature and spent 1/2 an hour describing in detail the plot. it's a really nice story about a hindu/muslim couple who were both studying in nyc at the time of 9-11 and who have now come back to india/pakistan. in nyc their relationship was feasible. in india/pakistan it's not so easy. it's a charming and witty story. after that i dropped by rehan's work.

rehan works for DNA India, a liberal newspaper that I wrote a handful of articles for last year. He edits the international section. I met a few of his coworkers. a group of woman who are working on an article about celibacy. after pakistan i feel like an expert.

rehan and i walk for a bit and later rehan tells me he's always found that walk to be quite inspiring but this time it felt banal. i feel like it's my fault. i'm not interested in the structure of a city, only its inhabitants so i feel like i was barely paying attention. architecture holds very little interest. we end up at a very euro/canadian cafe that seems to materialize out of nowhere. it's called indigo. saniya and baber show up, rehan leaves for a game of squash and the three of us talk about Toronto, 90s identity politics and my time in pakistan. they offer various theories as to what went down. We meet the gorgeous Anshuma from NYC who is now working for a New Delhi television company.

then we head to the Breach Candy Club for a swim in a pool shaped like Indian before the partition. giving us access is Aroosha, a diplomatic with the the US government. We drink gin and tonics and then hit the pool.

Then we go for drinks at Wink, a hotel bar. Then to Henry's, an afterhours club for dancing and shouting over the terrible music.

So what's so whit stillman about all this. (google him, if he's unfamiliar) well, simply: newspaper editors, alcohol, diplomatics, exclusive clubs, dance bars, cabs, servants, martinis and facile conversation. count me implicated. btw, i love the characters in stillman's films.

such contraditions are so heavy. two days ago i'm in the punjab, meeting the villagers. And now i'm dancing with the culturati of Mumbia at 3 in the morning. I love Saniya and Rehan and enjoy hanging out with them but I'm convinced that we would all be having such a much more interesting time if we were dancing at the Mela.

The Scarborough of Lahore

2006-12-01T00:21:00.000-07:00

So I told Rehan where I was staying in Lahore and what I saw and he informed me that basically I spent my whole time in the equivalent of the Scarborough in the 80s. It did seem a little... how shall I put it... Well, it didn't seem like a happening city but apparently, according to Rehan, it's the Milan of Pakistan and there was lots happening. Oh well, rather get to know the people than the architecture and cafes.

photos coming. of the mela.

Darren in Mumbai

2006-12-01T00:09:00.000-07:00

So now, after a few misadventures, I'm here in Mumbai with brother-sister team Saniya and Rehan Ansari. Staying at Rehans.

My last day in Pakistan was more hilarity. Shafiq had a press conference in a hotel restaurant to talk about the Mela. About 10 journalists showed up and it seemed to get heated for awhile. Tahir explained that pushing for the inclusion of Punjabi can be kind of tense. The elite of the country, he says, are all urdu speakers and need to keep it that way and need to keep the place distinct from India and therefore heavily militarized - otherwise they would all be out of a job. Last year they brought up some Indian Punjabis and had tons of hassle with spies coming by and asking questions. This year they didn't bother. There came a moment at the press conference where i was asked to speak of the success of Q&A at the festival and it occured to me that as far as Shafiq is concerned it did actually happen. I think. There wasn't the opportunity to ask him what happened. I brought the subject of my confusion and disappointment up with some of the other organizers but was met with blank stares. The question "did you enjoy the mela"seems to have only one comprehensible anwer: yes. So I think I'll write a small report and send it to all the core members.

At this point I was still in Sahiwal and the crew there was anxious to have me stay. I was anxious to have me leave. I wanted to see the Drama Society people one last time. I insisted, saying I wanted to say goodbye to my friends. They said: "are we not your friends?" and I said, yes but we've spent the whole day together. etc etc. Anyway, they finally put me on a bus and I got back in time to go to dinner with some of the Drama Society people. It was nice to see them all.

My flight to Delhi was delayed so I missed my connection so I was an hour late and had to find my way to Rehan's place. It's a big city and the cab drivers dont'carry maps. When I got to Rehan's place he wasn't there. And i wa'sn't sure if it was his place. I knocked on a neighbor's door and was invited in to watch tv and drink JD and soda. very different than Pakistan. We surfed the tv, this guy strongly reminding me of my uncles out in St. Albert, Alberta. Maybe uncle Jim. Especially when he laughed at the fact that the Dalit (the untouchable caste) were rioting and being beaten by cops.

eventually Rehan showed up. He had been at Saniya's waiting for me.

typical interaction

2006-11-29T02:03:00.000-07:00

the festival ended last night.
in a conversation with shafiq he says we will leave in the night. i say good. he says we will leave in the morning. (?!)
it is night. he comes into my room and says he is leaving and i will leave in the morning because there is no room to take me. fine. i get ready to sleep. he comes in and tells me to get my stuff. i think i'm moving to a different room since there are very few people around and the place is kind of creepy. i take my stuff. he guides me over to a car and says i'm going tonight. fantastic. i get into the car. we wait. people pile in. we drive. we approach the gate. shafiq puts his hand on my shoulder and says he must take someone else first and i will spend the night and then leave in the morning. i say nothing. the driver keeps driving. we go through the gate, down the road, through the village, onto the highway, down the highway. 2 hours later we arrive at shafiq's place. i go to sleep in my old room, a room i never thought i would consider palatial.

Q&A in Pakistan - the Boalians save the day

2006-11-29T01:48:00.000-07:00

so i was hanging out with the Boalians (practitioners of the theatre techniques of Augusto Boal) yesterday sort of staring off into space wondering about my purpose at the mela. why did shafiq invite me to do this very simple thing but not be able to find an hour on one of the many stages to give me the opportunity. if i had been invited to simply observe or to be the resident goura then, fine, i could work with that but since i had been invited to participate i was/am confused as to what prevented it. anyway, i was thinking about all of this and the Boalians demanded to know why i seemed so sorrowful. (many people i've met here seem to be very sensitive to moods, not comfortable to let someone brood in silence) so i told them my thoughts and they agreed that it was a mystery and that it could have been quite easy. so they proposed that after lunch we would comandeer an empty stage, draw a crowd and make a Q&A session happen.

So we did. And it was good. I was happy to see people eagerly run to the stage to participate. much more overt enthusiasm than in canada - though i suspect the same desire to be the centre of attention. like a recent experience with Diplomatic Immunities when doing a version with the students of UofT mississauga, it seemed like this was the perfect venue. the people from the village (i can't call them Village People) had been sitting in the audience watching people from the city singing, dancing and acting all in the name of local culture and the mother tongue and now here was an opportunity for them to get onto the stage. i have lots of thoughts about many of the contradictions - the way the villagers were pushed around by security, the scant opportunity for them to participate except for in the school program, etc. Anyway, our small Q&A session, without lights or microphones, led by Shahzad of the Boal group, went well and I left feeling that it would have simple completely simple and unproblematic (the woman thing aside - that's another thing - the men go to great efforts to 'protect' the women from the men) anyway, the difficulty of submitting a woman to question aside, i think the event would work very well in this context and provides entertainment, empowerment and a little thrill. i've documented the whole thing with video if anyone is interested. btw, a woman, Nabil, one of the boalians, did get up and she was able to handle herself easily. the problem would be if someone got freaked out about an inappropriate question. shahzad took great pains to emphasize "cultural sensitivity" when she was up there.

anyway, the only thing left is to ask shafiq what gives, why could he facilitate me. the idea is not appealing but must be done. rather now than in an email later.

everybody wants to know

2006-11-28T00:41:00.000-07:00

if i'm married.

and when i say no they always say:

why?

when i say i don't believe in it, things get really complicated.

master/slave

2006-11-28T00:35:00.000-07:00

of course underlying so much of my experience here - perhaps ALL of it - is colonialism, racism, white supremacy. shafiq summed it up brutally when he said all the attention i get and all the joy people feel is because of their "slave mentality." yeah, well, It certainly has nothing to do with anything i've done. It's hard to discern between hospitality and subservience. and, ultimately, it doesn't matter. but, these thoughts are important to temper any excitement i feel at the warmth of the people toward me. sure, they're warm, but a warm born of this particular history may not be worth celebrating. but what else to do? to refuse the generosity would be more ridiculous.

holy songs

2006-11-28T00:33:00.000-07:00

i'm sharing a room with this interactive theatre group from Lahore. They do Boal stuff. Two sisters are Christian. They asked me if I know any Christian holy songs. I said only Christmas songs. So we busted out and sang a few. Deck the Halls, Silent Night, We Wish You. They knew some of the lyrics.

the crew from the old city

2006-11-28T00:24:00.001-07:00

there's this group of annoying guys who i met in the old city. a guy named rana and his friends who all behave like a bunch of drunk real estate agents at a conference in the big city. they're so annoying. they grab me and insist on dragging me all over the place, take over the stages and insist that i sing to capacity crowds (remix to ignition), dance bhangra, ride tractors and, worse, that i come back and spend the night in the old city. nothing is less appealing. it sounds like pure boredom like last time i was there, sitting around in silence listening to great urdu hilarity. so this i refuse but, when i do, the concern and disappointment on rana's face is really disturbing. i'm ruining his day. i insist that i want to stay in the mela and see the show my friends are performing (can you believe i'm using theatre-going as a way to escape socializing) but it was true i did want to see this particular interactive company. anyway, rana showed up at the show and demanded to know if i understood what was being said. no, i didn't. why did i want to be there, lets go. etc. he wasn't as creepy as the other guy. just annoying. but, again, he became distraught and preoccupied. they will try again today, i'm sure. i just dont' like leaving the festival ground and being without any means to get back, stuck somewhere, meeting every man in the village. it's hard work and their are people here to talk to and hang out with - people i don't have time left to see.

where would Pakistan be without

2006-11-28T00:24:00.000-07:00

reverb?

creeped out for the first time

2006-11-28T00:08:00.000-07:00

i was watching a dance group perform in the open area. i had hung out with them in thier room earlier, dancing, singing (remix to ignition) and having a good time. they gave me one of their beautiful costume vests. anyway, after their performance i wanted to spend some time with them but this young (24) guy who i had met a day or two earlier came up and grabbed my hand and insisted that i spend time with him. i said, sorry, but, no i'm going to hang out with my dancer friends. he insisted back. i refused. he insisted. the dancers justed watched. finally he gave up. the dancers thanked me for spending time with them. we walked around, went to see some of their associates dance and all the while the young guy was hanging around. he would come up and ask if i liked the dancing, if i understood the singing. eventually he said "you don't like me." i tried to explain but he remained grumpy. i continued hanging with the dancers and he came again and tried to pull me away, i tried to explain, showing the vest and explaining that these were people who i want to spend time with. he and one of the dancers got into some argument in urdu about the vest and the dancers laughed at the guy. i thought, at this point, it was clear this guy was an idiot and the dancers would forgive me if i indulged him. we hugged goodbye, they seemed to understand and i was off, my hand clenched by the young guy. He pulled me around the festival with another friend trying to get me to eat the kind of food i'm not supposed to eat. he would introduce me to people he felt were important and when a crowd of people who he felt were unworthy would gather he would say 'too many people' and off we would go. he took me behind tents and would ask me questions about my political beliefs, the questions posed more like statements: you think george bush is a good man, you don't like osama bin laden etc. he had some specific expectations about what i believed and he was trying to confirm them. i didn't have to adjust my answers too much to satisfy him. i think. who the fuck knows. he also wanted to know where my identity papers were, a question that made me a little nervous. i lied and said they were in a different city. anyway, eventually, i saw some friends and joined them. he continued to lurk, anger again that i had ditched him. he came up and said i was cheating on him. whacko. anyway, i'm actually curious to see him again but hope it's in the daytime.

obviously the dude was a little unhinged but the phenomenon of being pulled between people who are vying for my attention is common and always weird to deal with.

the resident goura

2006-11-28T00:04:00.000-07:00

as usual someone is reading over my shoulder.

my role here seems to be primarily just to be. the word for englishman is goura. shafiq doesn't seem to be interested in the Q&A thing at all. perhaps he's too busy. who knows. i think maybe i'm simply here as a show of legitimacy. which is fine by me. i had a little run at Q&A and it was clear that the young people, in any case, would have a good time with it. it's really hard to tell what's going on from one moment to the next and who wants what from me. mostly i walk around and am the resident goura.

no title able to capture all this

2006-11-27T03:52:00.000-07:00

so hidden behind a bunch of tractor rickshaw vehicles that are part of General Musharaff's scheme to use microcredit to get the poor employed is a tiny internet kiosk that i hadn't noticed these past few days. so sorry for the silence. now i'm sitting here surrouned by 9 young men and boys who are watching me write this. when i am walking around the festival i am constantly surrounded by crowds of young men, boys and sometimes older men. i'm very popular here. the mela (festival) is happening in a rural area in the punjab. the title of the festival Lok Punjab Mela means the People's Punjab Festival. It's very much like a county fair with a theatre component that plays to standing room only crowds. There's lots of traditional Punjabi dance, singing, poetry and plays dealing with women's issues and the mainstage show - a 3 hr extravaganza - dedicated to a local hero who fought the british.

the Drama Society came here to present their show and i've been hanging out with them as well as tons of other people. it's impossible to describe how much attention i'm getting. actually, it isn't - i feel like tom cruise. i can't go anywhere without people shaking my hand.

my young friend Shaher Yar is looking over my shoulder and wanted me to tell you that he likes Canada and that he and I are good friends. He is twelve and when we first met he read to me from his textbook. about 10 mintues ago he invited me to embrace islam, he said it was his responsibility. he continues to read this over my shoulder and he understands every word - Hi Shaher Yar!!!!

so, anyway, it's very intense here. I wish I could have written on the first day because I was totally overwhelmed. i didn't know how to deal. i couldn't figure out how to get some alone time. it was hard not to get grumpy but - actually, not so much - i felt frustration but the generosity of the people is impossible to resist. it's really unlike anything i've ever experienced. and, again, the curiosity about what people in canada think of them. probably the most consistent emotion i've felt is anger at the thought that anyone would think these people are terrorists. that's crazy. these are beautiful people, i have yet to meet anybody express anything but love for other religions and peoples of the world.

which brings us to the female thing. from my narrow perspective, it's not as bad here as it was in sahiwal because there are many cultural workers performing here and we all sleep in the same area and eat in the same area and there's tons of mingling and tons of time for enough flirting to keep me happy. spending lots of time in mixed groups. did have one excursion to a small walled village where i sat in a room with 10 smoking men and met the local mullah. that had it's fun moments but was a bit much. 2 hours listening to men speak in urdu, having great laughs etc. but that's a small complaint.

it's rustic here. completely agricultural. really lush fields filled with sugar cane, potatoes, corn. the festival has hired local village woman to cook for us in an area that's walled off by some fabric tent material. it's very dusty and everybody is getting sick because it's quite cold at night. the mela is happening on the school grounds of a boys public school. we're sleeping in the school room. sometimes many people squashed into a room - sometimes not, it depends on who is performing at the mela that night. last night i believe there was a rat scratching near my head. one of my roommates heard it and threw on the light. but, nothing.

there are gunshots in the night. the security guards carry machine guns and are very serious about my safety in particular, warning me not to walk around alone at nigh which shafi thinks is a bit much. so i'll trust shafiq. the shots are warning shots, letting the surrounding people know they're serious. or that's the story i'm told. nothing bad has happened. nobody has been shot. but it's kind of nerve-wracking. and, while the guards are hilariously serious, they still melt and are totally friendly when i offer them a greeting.

i'm fascintated by this thing the people often say to me after i make a commitment to do anything in the future: Inshallah which means 'if God wills it.'
at first it felt like an admonition, like i was a little arrogant to make any plans at all. and, perhaps, that's the intention but i think it's a delightful reminding that the best made plans often go awry. and maybe i'm reading into it but this attitude, this trust that God is behind everything results in some very good attitudes. for example, as important as I am here, as excited as everyone is to talk with me, to sit with me, to eat with me, to take my contact information, to give me theirs, etc, there is no expecation amongst the performers that I will see their shows and no disappointment when - as happened last night - i wasn't able to attend. the use of 'inshallah' lets each other off some man-made set of expectations and lets things unfold as they will with no blame when they do not work out as promised.

so much more.

strictly on the cultural confusion front - while, it's waning, at first i was often had no idea what was going on and still i don't know what i'm agreeing to one minute to the next. but initially, everybody's behaviour seemed totally irrational. language obviously played a part but the way are together here defies anything i've experienced and it's impossible to put into words. i think i'm disoriented by generosity. when kindness and trust is the default mechanism - as opposed to coldness and suspision - it becomes difficult to tell what's going on.

probably the most consistent thought I've had is imagining what it's like for Pakistani (and other) people to come to Canada and experience the way we are there. It's a thought that makes me feel like crying. I realize that i'm getting the royal treatment but i've been told that this warmth - while not as acute as what i'm getting - is prevalent. there's also a casual aggressiveness that's kind of disorienting to - little kids getting shoved around, shafiq pushing the audience around when they clamour to get into one of the performance tents. there's also a snobbery from the city folks toward the villagers even though, ironically, this festival is intended to celebrate them. they're the last to be let into the tent once the various dignitaries have been seated. but everybody sits on the ground.

anyway, onto the topic of most interest, have i managed to get myself into any cultural conflagrations. well, the good news is that i haven't. when the drama society first arrived there was some coldness from the men and then one remarked that i seem to have more love for the women than for the men and as soon as i confessed to this psychological malady all was forgive and i became friends with the men, too. for awhile their teasing of me was starting to become kind of intense - they love to call me Cha Cha, aka Uncle but i managed to take that over by researching the words for neice and nephew and calling them that and asking for foot massages, tea and other favours. that shut them up. in a nice way. i have even become momentary sweethearts with Jawaria from the Drama Society. we hung out for a couple of days and started to experience the teasing of her classmates. she was the geek of the group and it's tough for me to avoid feeling affection for geeks. (hi yn!)

also have made friends with this family. two sisters a little older than me and they teenage children. we eat together and they teach me how to count and the names of various body parts.

lots more but i've been here too long.

oh yeah, what about Q&A?
well, it seemed to have been completely forgotten. so i brought it up yesterday and they introduced me into the school program where local kids get up and show their Punjabi stuff. whenever i explian the project people have no clue why i want to do that and remain unconvinced when i yammer on about the importance of giving power to the banal and that our small lives are as imporant and those of our heros. anyway, brought up one guy - the other kids questioned him - lots of laughter and everything was cool. then we brought up a female - a young teacher, Rani. (it's her family that i'm hanging with). anyway, it went well again. lots of questions for her. more than for the guy. urgent. one of the other teachers - a guy who identitifies as a dialectical materialist - observed that there was much more interested in the female because they're kept hidden. anyway, later i hear from Rani that the dilectical materialist doesn't think we should do it anymore because the boys were asking bad questions. apparently they asked her if she 'likes' the village boys. she said, no, she like Darren, to great laughter ( i remember the laughter.) anyway, the boy/girl thing obviously remains intense. today a couple of teens were teasing a girl and the security guards grabbed them and tossed them into this room and then their friends got all pissed and it looked like things were about to explode. guys waving guns, kids running in all directions.

today i tried to get Q&A to happen again and, though everyone insists that it was cool yesterday, they couldn't find the time. maybe tomorrow. inshallah.

Shaher Yar wants to say that in the village there are good boys and there are bad boys. Like everywhere. He likes pictures of Canada.

more later....

at the Mela

2006-11-26T23:49:00.000-07:00

I'm fine. Healthy. Having my mind blown about every 2 minutes. Limited access to internet.
Will post more soon.

I may come back to Toronto as an

2006-11-23T01:21:00.000-07:00

atheist.

i am craving

2006-11-23T00:29:00.000-07:00

a blt

i'm craving

2006-11-22T22:44:00.000-07:00

poutine.

Not a matter of if but when

2006-11-22T22:28:00.000-07:00

So pretty much everybody said it wasn't a matter of if i would get sick but when. last night i got sick. liquid poop all night, aches and all the rest. the last time i felt like that i was in morocco so the association of diarhea and islam is strong. sounds were really sick-making last night and this is a loud place. early in the morning the mosques started up. i will skate onto the thin ice of intolerance now by saying i really don't like that tradition. i don't like hearing those guys singing. part of the problem is that i inevitably associate it with the fact that there are NO women on the streets. NOWHERE. who wants to live like that??? shafiq explained that it's all about not wanting anybody else to have any access whatsoever to your lady so you keep her totally to yourself. the fact that this means you have to hang out with dudes all the time seems like an untenable compromise. i don't really like the company of men, never have. acts of flirtation with women provide me with such sustenance. so the sound of those guys wailing in the early morning just makes me annoyed and, in the state i was in last night, kind of queasy.

we're waiting for the festival to start. so i'm sitting around and reading a lot. i went for a walk yesterday but that wasn't all that interesting. there are no venues for the tourist to chill. and it really is total sensory overload. the drivers communicate with horns. they don't use them in anger like in canada, just in casual car-to-car conversation.

i'm sill feeling queasy but not as bad. i'm so tired of rice and chicken. i ate a chicken that i saw die. that was exciting. i was hoping for a bit more veggies but the crew i'm hanging with are big on the meat.

anyway, i'm a little bored and would love to just hang out and have a beer at the Drake.

Fosia's Age

2006-11-22T22:26:00.000-07:00

I asked Fosia her age and she couldn't remember. she said somewhere between 35 and 40. and i said, you don't know the year you were born? and she said, oh, yes, i do, i was born in 1963. well then you're 43, i said. And she said, yes, i guess i am.

i found it amazing that her age was of so little interest to her.

my butt

2006-11-22T22:22:00.000-07:00

Shafiq suggested that I might want to change out of my jeans with the ripped butt so as not to offend the villagers.

pics

2006-11-22T04:13:00.000-07:00

security guard at venue

Fosia and the other workshop participants

mathloob, Fosia and worshop participants

pics

2006-11-22T04:09:00.000-07:00

light and sound

venue

dismantling the rehearsal area

foreground: amber
back: atiqa and jawaria

amber

more pics

2006-11-22T03:54:00.000-07:00

actor playing lawyer eats sandwich

actor playing lawyer feeds sandwich to actor playing his friend

we dance

jawaria who plays an old servant

we dance

Shafiq

2006-11-22T03:42:00.000-07:00

I'm finally hanging around with the guy who invited me here, Shafiq Butt. I enjoy his company, he's funny and very honest about his distaste for the military and for the role of women. This puts him at risk. He pointed out that the reason there are so many mosques waking everybody up in the morning is because during the cold war American - as they did in Afghanistan - gave resources to fundamentalists who opposed the USSR. Now that the USSR is gone, the fundamentalists have turned and are very dominant. Whereas before there would be one mosque per neighborhood, now there are seven.

The organization he runs/works with has two wings: Lok Sujag and Lok Rahs. Sujag is the activist wing that focuses on women's rights, protecting local production of milk, getting salt iodinized to prevent goiters. They're very active and the office is filled with constant activity - they make posters campaigns (some beautiful work designed by Tahir who i was staying with in Lahore) and documentary films, to name a few activities. . Shafiq reminds me of a film producer in full production, always on his cel and working from morning to night. The Mela - festival - that they've got me involved with is to preserve the punjabi culture which is under threat from the urdu minority. it's a big festival and my involvement remains inchoate. Shafiq is quite fast on his feet and is always scheming different ways for me to participate.

Lok Rahs is the theatre company wing of the group. I'm not exactly sure how that aspect works, if they tour or what.

a bunch of pics

2006-11-22T03:24:00.001-07:00

atiqa wearing my specs

Mike the army man - when i took this i said 'say peeeaaccee' but he refused

manny

lighting guy

note session

It's Okay, I Was Only Using it to Kick Myself for Treating You so Badly

2006-11-22T03:21:00.000-07:00

the title is fictitious. it's what i would title a post where i talk about having my leg amputated from a motorbike accident. don't worry, i'm fine. small flu or something. from staying up so late with manny the other night.

1st Workshop

2006-11-22T03:18:00.000-07:00

did a workshop today with the people i will be working with. Seems all of the people Shafiq intended me to work with are all working on shows right now so he rounded up these three women - Fosia and two others. They showed up at the place I was staying for the night in Okara and the first question I asked was why they were doing this. They didn't understand me, instead asking a question that was on their minds: why are we doing this? From what I can tell, they were asked to participate as a Plan B. I had hope to do a few more things than just Q&A - which would have been simple with the university students from the Drama Society but communicating with these women was a challenge. Again, i shook their hands and made everyone edgy. I'm going to give up on that, though i met Atiqa's parents - she's one of the Drama Society - and they all shook my hand, the father pushing his 4 yr old daughter forward to shake my hand. Anyway, I explained the premise of Q&A and got the first and completely understandable bit of resistence when Fosia explained that you simply can't answer any question here - for example, she said, if you have an negative opinion about Musharaff, you can't blurt it out. yes, i understood, but explained that the audience would be determining the parameters and it was unlikely that someone would ask an inappropriate question. it certainly never happens in canada. people are very respectful of boundaries and i expect the same will happen here. So we tried a few rounds and, of course, it was fun, if a little challenging. i went first and, as usual, i had to explain my single status. Mathlood, my current host, went second and seemed to really enjoy the hot seat. The other two women went and were reluctant but seemed to have a decent enough time. who knows how it will go on the day. frankly, it's pretty incredible that i'm here doing this. maybe an analogous situation would be to imagine someone from Pakistan coming to Buddies in Bad Times Theatre and trying to convince the staff to pray five times a day.

Why is God so Noisy?

2006-11-22T03:17:00.000-07:00

woke up this morning in the smaller and more rural city of Okara at 4AM to the sound of all the prayers at the mosques. Three very close by and what sounded like hundreds all over the city. I found it unpleasant. Beyond the fact that I was trying to sleep, the ubiquity of religion was so immediate and thick. I didn't like that it was all I could hear for such a long time. it was loud and it was everywhere.

Too Bald to Be Single

2006-11-22T03:13:00.000-07:00

Had dinner with Atiqua, a member of the Drama Society, and her parents. They have 5 kids: Ayesha, who is a stunningly beautiful 22 yr old who works for Panasonic, a brother who is studying in England, Atiqua who is a stunningly beautiful 19 yr old, a handsome 12 yr old brother and a really charismatic 4 year old sister. When i told her father i wasn't married, he said it was strange for someone with so little hair not to be married. that had to be the line of the night. then he asked my age and then i asked his. the dude was 39. what's 39 minus 22? young is all i know. but, really, it looks like the way to do it. he is young and he has this amazing family. it's a really nice vibe. we all went for a spin in the car to drop me off at my place. i feel a little culture-shocked that the having kids at 17 thing actually looks so appealing and that it's not something i can make up. it's over, done, i'll be lucky to be alive when any of the kids i might have are 20 yrs old. the strength of family is really fascinating. when talking to mathloob about it, he said it was simple, capitalism kills the family - the more developed the country, the less developed the notion of family.

The Debator King of Pakistan

2006-11-19T21:45:00.000-07:00

So the members of the Drama Society like me enough to make fun of me, giving me the nickname of "uncle." Or "uncle of the chicken." The Chicken is this very euro looking guy who is the most charismatic and crazy of them so I take it as a compliment. I still remain totally reserved, behaving with complete appropriatness. so, i'm often bored.

met this young guy who stopped me to talk. in a few minutes of conversation he mentioned his every accomplishment. i thought he was a bit annoying so i brought him over to the Drama Society. after his initial claim of being the most successful debator in Pakistan, the Drama Society burst into gales of laughter and proceeded to gang up on him questioning his skills and challening him to a debate. it was hilarious. there were ten young men shouting at once, laughing uproariously and this one lone guy - still smiling - trying to fend them off. it was all in urdu so i only got the occassional translation. they challenged him to debate the pro position to defend the rights of young people to have sex. he refused this. then they toned it down and he squared off with one of them. i have no idea how it went. at one point he stormed off to huge laughter, only to be coaxed back. it was really crazy. i felt for the guy but had found him to be completely annoying. obviously, the Drama Society and myself are on the same page.

Manny quadrupled us on his motorbike to get some streetmeat. i seemed to have survived both. when i expressed reservations - again quoting my travel doctor about the dangers of mixing tourists and motorbikes - one guy said: "try something different in your life, don't be so predictable."

talking

2006-11-19T00:29:00.000-07:00

Hung out yesterday at the rehearsal again. Lots of talk. People coming up to me, introducing themselves then quizzing me on my relationship to God, marriage, democracy etc. Everybody very curious about how Canadians view Pakistan. Watch some BBC and experienced it very differently while sitting with Tahir and Shasia, my hosts. There's a sadness in all the islamophobia that I hadn't anticipated but is obvious. I though there would be frustration and ridicule but didn't expect the weary sadness.

It's funny that I'm hanging around a bunch of 21 yr old telecommunications engineers who are all about to perform their first play tonight. Manny had a bit of a melt down last night when some of the cast cracked up during the run. It's his first directing assignment so he wants it to go well. During the break, they played music and we all danced under some disco lights that are used in teh show. That was a hilight. Another highlight is Priya, the 8yrold daughter of Tahir and Shasia. We've become tight and play games. Her english is not bad. She first restricted herself only to the word "yes" but then busted loose with complete sentenses. My urdu is weak.

The people are intensely nice. One guy wondered why westerners don't return the favour when Pakistanis visit their country. Good question.

Lots of laughs at the rehearsal. It felt like all 10 out of 12s - those awful and exhausting days right before a show opens that can suddenly swing to pure fun to pure hell.

time and the globe

2006-11-17T22:37:00.000-07:00

sitting in the office eating breakfast.

it's tough to be wide awake when i know all my friends are sleeping. time differences have been inconvenient but never this disorienting. toronto is about 10 hours behind. the multiple flights were confusing - time didn't matter because it was always only a few hours before it would all get jumbled again. i stopped trying to figure out what time it 'really' was for my body - with all the tiny naps, it became meaningless. last night i went to sleep at midnight and woke this morning at 7 so maybe i'm in sync.

someone please send me a drunken midnite email from North America
darren@mammalian.ca

Manny's Motorbike

2006-11-17T20:06:00.000-07:00

I'm riding on the back of Manny's motorbike in the pouring rain through the busy streets of Lahore and thinking about relative notions of safety. Did I mention, my travel doctor told me that motorbike accidents kill the most tourists... ? As we ride the number of what appear to me to be 'close calls' is high. Between us and pedestrians, other motor bikes, cars, rickshaws etc. anybody from the west who has travelled elsewhere has probably experienced this shock. as usual, it brings up the question of social control masquerading as safety. performer and teacher, peter jarvis, talks about the 'speed of intuition', claiming it's actually quite fast. i know this from tai chi - when i can't recall what my next move is i just speed up and my body intuitively remembers. the slower i go the more difficult it is to remember. like trying to ride a bike at a slow speed. my perception of chaos on Lahore streets, from the back of Manny's motorbike, is exhilerating especially when - time and again - everything is fine, we live, the pedestrian lives. i laugh a lot, though, in amazement at this crazy choreography that doesnt' even faze manny.

Manny's with Punjab Lok Rahs, the organization that brought me here. He's directing his first play and is working in collaboration with the Drama Society of the National University of Computers and Emerging Sciences. It's pretty hilarious that a science based university has this huge group of undergraduates dedicated to creating theatre. i met them all yesterday: the actors, the production team, the marketing team and a bunch of other people who chatted and constantly checked their cell phones during the rehearsal. it was like being in a room full of Ulysses Castellanos. the play is Being and Nothingness and has nothing - that i could tell - with Sartre. It's a play about the lack of equality for women in world and we see two get shot throughout the course of the play. In an interesting convesation with Shaiwaz, one of the actors, he talked about the dialectical relationship between the Burka in Islam and the exploitative display of the female body in the West. Margaret Wente should write a column about it.

Shaiwaz also feels that women are the mothers of the nation and should stay home and raise the kids because they tend to love their children more than fathers. Only speaking for myself, i admitted that my mother was certainly more demonstrative with her love and i hear that this is a fairly widespread phenomenon. anyway, i tread carefully here. but am most baffled by the culture of guys hanging with guys. wherever that goes down - here or in Canada. i like hanging with the dames and have always felt this way, always avoiding the post-meal coffee with the uncles in the living room to go hang with the aunts who were always doing the dishes in the kitchen.

so i observed this rehearsal for 6 hours. pretty crazy considering my feelings about the form. i've tried to explain Q&A a couple of times and, of course, there's always the assumption that it occurs after a performance instead of being the performance. one of the students invited me to approach the director of the university to have a training session to work with some of these students. a sudden change of plans like this would be unthinkable in canada.

last night on the motor bike in the rain we continued to find streets gated so eventually ended up back in the office to spend the night which sounded, at first, like a nightmare: i was dying for sleep and i imagined shivering all night on the floor but the blankets were warm and the carpet was soft.

i have no idea what happens today.

1st Hour in Lahore

2006-11-16T23:41:00.000-07:00

Here an hour. At the office of Lok Punjab. Rode on a motor bike with my pack and suitcase for a very short (1 block) trip. The guy at the travel health clinic said that motorcyle accidents kill the most tourists.

and speaking of which:
standing in the airport i saw my first mosquito and thought of dengue fever and malaria - now i'm covered with deep woods off.

i introduced myself to eveyone at the office and wondered if shaking women's hands is done as there was a bit of giggling. yes, an idiot abroad.

Doha International Airport

2006-11-16T11:47:00.000-07:00

An interesting thing about Mike was that he was constantly using the words ethics and ethical. Behaving ethically seemed very important to him.

In an email exchange with choreographer Judith Marcuse from Vancouver, who attended the Punjab Lok Mela last year, she cautioned me about pushing too hard with the Q&A performance, pointing out that Pakistan is a military dictatorship and that people often don’t know who to trust. She warned me against getting people to open up because, of course, I wouldn’t be around to deal with the consequences. Again this question of the power of simple questions to trigger terrible consequences.

How Q&A works: a host invites an audience member onto the stage and then invites the rest of the audience to ask them any question they like with the understanding that the subject doesn’t have to answer anything they don’t want to. After ten minutes of questioning, the subject invites another audience member onstage for another round. And so on.

Generally, I only participate initially, leaving the bulk of the questioning in the hands of the audience. With the project in Pakistan especially, I’ll be following the lead of my hosts, collaborating to create parameters but doing nothing to induce particular content, trusting that they’ll understand their own limits and respect each others’ need to say as much or as little as they like. I don’t know what can and can’t be talked about and I’m too stupid to do anything but error on the side of saying too much. I’m going to work extra hard to keep a lid on my tendency to blurt out random ridiculous and provocative shit.

It seems kind of surprising to me that I was invited to do this at all considering that there is – when done in Canada – the awareness that the piece, to some small degree, references the notion of interrogation. But between equals. Entreveillance as opposed to surveillance. Shafiq, my host, was excited by the possibility of inducing open conversation between people where, ordinarily, speaking candidly in public is rare.

Mike also talked about the practice of looting. It's common. He took a sword from someone's home.

Heathrow

2006-11-16T00:55:00.000-07:00

In my show A Suicide-Site Guide to the City, I spend much of the time pretending I’m on airplanes, one from Vancouver to Toronto and the other the other way around. On the Vancouver flight I’m sitting beside a young Muslim woman named Farheen, named after performance artist Farheen Haq. On the Toronto flight I’m sitting beside a 30-something Air Marshall. During the show I jump back and forth in time and am, essentially, sitting between them. The flight today added another character to the mix – someone who fit right in. Mike, a 24 year old Master Corporal on his way back to Khandahar. He was a friendly guy, happy to answer pretty much every single question I had. So my performance Q&A, the reason I’m heading to Pakistan, started a little early. And it functioned like the real deal – I asked pretty much anything I wanted: have you been injured, have you killed, are you scared, do you really think democracy can be installed violently, and on and on. He seemed like a good guy, as good guys go.

I learned some interesting things. Among them: when you’re shot at the bullet will hit the ground behind you (providing it doesn’t hit you) then you’ll hear the SNAP as it whizzes past you and only THEN will you hear the sound from the actual gun. Since the speed of a bullet flying from an AK-47 is pretty much always the same, you’re supposed to count once you hear the SNAP to determine how far away your assailant is. Like counting the seconds after a thunderclap to figure out where the lightening struck. Another interesting thing: most guys in the army believe in God. And if they don’t, their first firefight convinces them of the necessity of “rediscovering their Christian roots.”

Mike told me that he thinks Canada should be in Afghanistan because Canadians don’t cut and run. When “we” start something “we” finish it. Frankly, I think that’s some seriously weak logic. I would say it’s the intelligent person, if not the courageous, who can recognize a mistake and get the hell out. He also cited his Christianity as a source of his conviction, in another interesting use of logic, by suggesting that, essentially, because Canada was in Afghanistan, it must be what God wanted. This seemed a little circular. My biggest problem with Mike, however, was that he loves the Stratford Festival. Can you believe it? He identifies as quite cultured and complained that the shows he sees even in smaller European theatres are much better than the work in Canada. He attributed this, not so much to differences in funding but, more importantly, to the fact that Canadians are always trying to emulate the Broadway experience.

I read him some excerpts from page 23 of Hardt and Negri’s Multitude:

“The political program of “nation building” in countries like Afghanistan… reveals, on the one hand, that the nation has become something purely contingent, fortuitous, or, accidental. That is why nations can be destroyed and fabricated or invented as part of a political program. On the other hand, nations are absolutely necessary as elements of global order and security…. Nations building thus pretends to be a constituent, even ontological, process, but it is really only a pale shadow of the revolutionary process out of which modern nations were born. (Here I stopped and talked about colonialism and the anticolonial nationalist struggles like Angola and Algeria.) The contemporary projects of nation building are by contrast imposed by force from the outside through a process that now goes by the name of “regime change”. Such nations building resembles less the modern revolutionary birth of nations than it does the process of colonial powers dividing up the globe and drawing the maps of their subject territories.”

At this point I said – “so, you understand, you’re a Bad Guy” and he said “yes, I’ve come to terms with that.”

I also asked him about private security forces and he told me that it’s tough work and, for the most part, you end up being “bullet sponges.” He’s got a girlfriend and they just bought a house in Collingwood. He was only able to spend a week there before having to head back. He’s got some hearing loss from explosions, has had his ribs broken and experienced some heart problems from being hit in his chest armour by a bullet. He described the Taliban as mostly young confused guys from Pakistan. He claims that many of the Afghanis still think the USSR is in their country and when he showed a young prisoner a photo of a mosque sitting next to a church somewhere in the West, the young Taliban was incredulous and didn’t believe it was possible. He describe the Taliban as decent guys who were, in his opinion, simply manipulated and misled by Al Qaeda.

We also spent a little time talking about Immanuel Wallerstein’s notion of bifurcation and the end of capitalism. Like I would imagine most guys in the infantry are, (why is the word infant in that word?) he’s working class and is very aware of it, comparing the relationship between nonofficers and officers to the British Class system. I talked of the deliberate pillaging of Africa, referencing a recent article in Walrus that explains that, for all the aid going to developing countries, much more is stolen from them even still. These were new ideas to him and he admitted that he didn’t know how to respond.

Q&A in Pakistan

2006-10-08T20:45:00.000-06:00

I'm going to Pakistan in November to share Q&A with young theatre artists during a festival celebrating the Punjabi culture. I arrive on November 17. Look for more posts then.