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9 August
Today I woke up in a comfortable bed after a night of no mosquitoes and
hiding under a mosquito net. I got up and showered without needing
to find my torch to see my way to the toilet. The toilet has a seat and
flushes, The shower had an endless supply of water and it was hot, there
was no trickle from the collected rainwater and no need to heat some
water on a fire if I wanted to avoid a freezing shower. For breakfast I
only had to boil a kettle to get some hot water, nobody had to build a
fire and heat the water. Everything was at my fingertips. I opened a
carton of milk instead of waiting for someone to come and milk the
solitary cow and boil the milk.
And yet I miss Kyangwali.
I explained to the group the other day about washing machines and
dishwashers and they went into a state of shock. They cannot believe
that a machine exists that washes your clothes. I told them how we all
have running water in our homes and one tap gives you piping hot water.
I told them we don’t pay for medical help, that we have various benefits
such as unemployment. I told them the system is far from perfect but
realised how ridiculous that sounded looking at what they have. They
can’t believe that we all get an education and that secondary school is
free. They asked me so many questions and at the end they said, the
people in the UK and USA must never complain when they are so fortunate.
What could I say? I smiled. And then I came back to the UK and as I
headed out of the airport I was met with the news headlines of the riots
in London.
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8 August
The trip out of the camp was, as always, entertaining. We had a choice
of the battered minibuses from Hoima that leave the camp early in the
morning – they have seats for 12but fill it up to around 24-30 people at
any time; or we could take a car as some Hoima car owners use their cars
like taxis on the long road. It is a 2-hourdrive if the road is in place
– if it has rained heavily and the mud road destroyed it can take 5-6
hours. The road was passable and we opted for the car, or rather it was
decided for us. As we got in the car we discovered that we were to be 4
adults in the back. There was no space and we squashed in on top of one
another for the long journey. The driver was taking a further 3
passengers in the front. Two were in the passenger seat and one was to
share the seat with the driver! Then we found out that by normal taxi
terms they take 5 people in the back (seriously!!!!) and so we were to
take another customer. This was a little too much to say the least so I
said I would pay for the 5thperson and leave us as just 4. I have no
idea where a fifth person could have gone but as we started the drive we
quickly saw that we had less passengers than any other car and even saw
one with 7 in the back. It was a long journey which mainly consisted of
interchanging cramp in every part of our bodies.
We reached Kampala in early evening and the hotel was a joke – in typical African fashion (a generalisation I know), the booked rooms were no longer booked, they had no towels, no hot water, the electricity went off….and the list goes on. But we were en route home and ultimately it was all tolerable. Well that and we had no choice.
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5 August
The days are passing so quickly and so much left to do. Sometimes I
imagine in my head how if I had money, I could significantly change the
life of people here. In my head it all seems so simple, so
straightforward – not even tons of money, just enough …easy in my head
yet so hard in reality. Soon I will be back in the UK where my thoughts
will quickly (whether I want this to happen or not) be consumed by work
and making money, paying bills and the necessities of life there that
seem so totally irrelevant here.
I am thinking about what I have learned each year from these people and
how quickly it seems I forget some of those lessons. Why? I guess
different lifestyles, different pressures, different relationships and
expectations.
So today was the last day in the camp, tomorrow we will travel to
Kampala. They performed their rap and dance…of course they had forgotten
half of it even though they had been practising just two hours before!
But that is part of the fun. Then the crowds asked them to stay and keep
performing, much to their delight of course and what did they do? Did
they perform from the range of skills they have been taught with
theatre, music and dancing? No, they decided to ‘perform’ some of the
games I have taught them. I kid you not. So in the middle of the public
performance we had Boal’s minimum surface contact game, followed by the
human knot (which I have to say they are exceptional at – there is no
knot they cannot untie and no knot they will allow to get the better of
them…no matter how long that may take). And the crowd you may wonder –
how did they react to watching a group play these games? Well it was a
crowd pleaser beyond all expectations, loved more than the performances
themselves. They shouted, encouraged, cheered and clapped, they gasped
with delight and horror, the air of suspense was tangible. This could be
the moment I hold my head in despair, asking if I really have achieved
anything, but instead I found myself laughing and cheering with them.
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1 August
So all through the refugee camp people are constantly passing on their
bikes carrying everything imaginable and more people than you would
believe could fit on a bike. Then there are occasional cars (usually aid
deliveries or people linked to NGOs) and the motorbikes which are often
used as a form of taxi in and out of the camp. The bikes ring their
bells so people know to move out of the way and cars and bikes pump
their horns so people know to jump to the side. Generally the system
works well though there are occasional accidents and even deaths mainly
due to the speed at which the cars and motorbikes ride.
Today I became a casualty of a bike carrying three crates of beer.
Fortunately, I imagine for all concerned, the bike did not fall over and
all the bottles remained intact. The rider rang his bell and I moved but
at that point he had not realised I was a mzungo (white) and so when I
turned to see where he was I moved and so did he and the next thing I
knew he went straight into me…and it hurt. The worst part was that he
was in shock at hitting a mzungo and panicked and I was trying to tell
him in my very limited Swahili that it was okay, that it was just an
accident. The problem was that he had mainly hit my back but he had also
scraped part of the bike down my arm which was now bleeding which was
what he was staring at in shock. This was made even worse by the rapid
crowd that gathered to see if my blood was the same colour as theirs!
It came at the end of a long and tiring day and the last thing I wanted
was to be more of a main attraction than we already are. Anyway there
was nothing I could do but repeatedly say it was okay and try to walk.
Within ten minutes people I had left a mile away who had heard (I don’t
know how) were coming to see if I was okay and I suspect to check out
what it looks like when a mzungo gets hurt. I mean it’s not like I will
ever blend in here, and I know that’s stating the obvious, but do I
really need to do things to draw even more attention to myself?
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31 July
So today was a meeting of the theatre group committee and members of
Coburwas. I made the agenda and calculated it would take us 45 minutes
to get through it. Then of course allowing for translation and general
lengthy African ways of speaking and going around the point, I doubled
that time. What was I thinking? Have I really learned nothing about
having a meeting here? Clearly not. FIVE HOURS later the meeting was
still going strong, it was now dark and the mosquitoes were honing in on
the only white person around. So I have a week to go and at least four
more meetings. I commented that at that length we may have problems
fitting in the meetings. The response…that we could move them to
all-nighters which is not uncommon here. Maybe it is age but I need to
sleep, the idea of starting a meeting at 8 or 9 and finishing the next
day in time for starting the workshops is no exactly appealing.
Yet the time has passed so quickly here, as it always does. It is
strange, on the one hand I feel as if I have been here for a long time
and yet on the other, it feels as if I have just arrived and will never
have time to do everything I need to before I leave.
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29 July
I have been reliably assured that this is not rainy season – clearly
someone forgot to inform Mother Nature of this fact. Apparently there
are two rainy seasons mid August through October and mid February
through March. So this is not rainy season …it has rained for 3 days…The
thing is that when the rain comes nothing dries in the damp atmosphere
and our clothes, socks, shoes stay muddy and wet which isn’t the most
pleasant.
I forgot to mention that seeing Joseph here this visit was a shock. In
the last ten months he has lost a considerable amount of weight. This in
part is the result of lack of food, but also of the considerable stress
he has been under. When stressed they rarely eat and COBURWAS have
suffered greatly in this last year by the selfish and ignorant
interference of an outside organisation that has tried to destroy their
work and progress. Sadly this is a western organisation who, rather than
help and support them, has instead tried to control and divide them.
They will come through stronger, of that I have no doubt, however in the
meantime they will have to pass through this difficult growth period.
Growing pains are never easy and often require a shaking off of the old
and a rebirth of sorts. Coburwas has been through so many trials and
each time they have come through it and proved their commitment to one
another and to making the life for refugees and the poor the best it can
be. It is an organisation founded by refugees and run by them. They have
shown great powers of endurance and collaboration every step of the way.
Who knows better what these people need than they themselves. They are
intelligent thoughtful, caring people who work for the community. They
do not need an outsider stepping in to tell them what is in their best
interest or questioning their ability to organise themselves. I have
seen year after year how amazing they are and the good that they do for
the whole community. They are selfless in their work and could teach all
of us so much. Yet, and it shames me greatly, I see ‘white people’ come
and think they know better, think they know what is needed and what
should be done (despite knowing nothing and understanding little of the
every day reality of the lives of these people). They breeze in a few
days of the year thinking they are doing so much good and leave a trail
of unhappiness and destruction in their wake and in turn blame the
refugees for this. My anger at what has occurred is so strong and yet I
can say and do nothing without making the situation even harder for them
which is the last thing that I want.
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27 July
The trip to the refugee camp this year has, as always, been an
interesting one. It is always fantastic to meet these people who have
become my friends and to see how things have changed and developed from
the year before. This year they have faced many hardships, too many
caused by the ignorance and selfishness of others. These people have
enough pain and suffering in their lives without having more added
unnecessarily.
The school continues to grow and I have seen all of the children on the
Right to Learn programme –all of whom are speaking some English now.
They have grown so much. Jacob and Moses continue to be best friends –
they were the two troublemakers who followed us everywhere we went the
first year, stuck to one another’s side, and never going to school. Now
they are two of the best students, so responsible about their studies
but still always together. It is always good to see them and there is
something so beautiful in their friendship and the way that they look
out for one another always.
We came earlier this year, in July instead of August. Before when we
came in August the roads were bad, almost impassable because of the
heavy rains that had just happened. Now we are here in the month of the
heavy rains – thunder lightning and rain have become a part of our daily
life at the moment. The rain torrential, within moments the paths turned
to pools of muddy water, they sky darkened and the cold creeps in. The
rain reminds me of living in South America. I loved being at home
listening to and watching the torrents of rain and hearing thunder so
loud it made you jump. There we would worry about electricity cuts or
some flooding on parts of the road. Here we think about jiggers (fleas
that live in the sandy mud and burrow into your feet and lay their
eggs), we don’t worry about electric cuts because there is no
electricity. So now I am writing this on what is left of the power on my
laptop, sitting in a hut, rain pouring down outside, the only light I
have coming from the laptop screen and the lightning that frequently
flashes across the sky, thunder breaking in the background. I tall feels
so strange and yet familiar at the same time.
The theatre group we created in the camp has gone from strength to
strength. In one year I am amazed and impressed by what they have
achieved. They are a strong group, hardworking, creative and dedicated
to using applied theatre to improve many aspects of life in the camp.
Working with them is both a pleasure and an honour. They attempt
everything we ask of them, no matter how difficult or strange it may be,
and they never complain. Moreover it is a group of men and women working
together which is rare and something we could not have imagined
achieving when we first started working here. Even the cook, one of the
theatre member’s wife, now comes to join us in the afternoons after we
have eaten. She would look at us from a distance and laugh and shout
encouragement but was always wanting to come closer each day and this
week she started doing some of the exercises with us. What I like is
that there is such a sense of unity and inviting atmosphere – no
jealousy, no sense of competition and everybody laughing and enjoying
together. Every day we laugh. I have often thought about how every day I
have ever spent in Kyangwali over the years, I have laughed every one of
those days. Back in the UK I could never say I laugh every single day.
Even days of sadness here, and there are many, there are still always
times of laughter.
On Wednesday the 2 year old daughter of the school principal died of
malaria – not a rare occurrence sadly in Kyangwali where people die
daily from something so preventable in many ways. As always here it
touches us more when it is somebody whom we know who is affected. Worse
is that his other daughter is seriously ill because she has apparently
been poisoned – again sadly not a rare occurrence here where jealousy
can lead to some evil actions. So our workshops were delayed a little in
the afternoon as we went to the home for the burial. It is tradition and
important to pay respects to the family when you know the person, no
matter how little you may know them.
Poisoning is a strange issue here – of course it happens but not as
frequently as people tend to believe. Often if it is unknown why someone
dies they are quick to put the blame on poisoning. Or if the local
‘doctor’ (witch doctor) cannot cure the person he is likely to blame the
illness on poisoning. There are other reasons also but basically the
truth is that poisoning is not as common as people think. Moreover the
threat to poison is greater than the reality, and this is further
fuelled by the belief that so many unexplained deaths must be poison.
It all reminds me, as does so much of Africa, of South America. The way
it looks, the way it smells, the shops, the power cuts, the water
shortages, the superstition and magic, especially the black magic which
I experienced only too well. Sometimes driving to the camp I look around
and were the faces white I could easily be in Paraguay or Brazil,
Bolivia, Peru… And when I think back to travelling in the countryside in
South America I remember the problems with no water, no electricity,
mosquitoes, poor or non-existent roads. Now it feels like none of that
even registered at the time and I wonder is that because I was younger
or is it because the final destination was not a refugee camp and all
that comes with that – the hardship, the suffering, the horrific stories
of the war they have escaped, starvation and sickness. South America was
just one big fun adventure, a world so close and yet so far from where
we now are. In turn that makes me think of my journey over the years, a
path I never imagined walking and one I have no idea where it leads. At
times the mystery and adventure serve as an adrenalin buzz, at other
times I catch my breath and I am not sure what I feel, a momentary fear,
a regret, a sorrow? No it is none of those, I could never have lived an
ordinary life, and I did try, but it is not who I am. A shaman in South
America once told me that all paths were choices and when you make those
choices you cannot allow your energy to be sapped by wondering about the
path you did not choose.
This year is also a little different because we are accompanied by two
American high school students – Leah and Laetitia - who are working in
the kindergarten and primary school while we are here. In all honesty I
was a little apprehensive about bringing them along and the possible
disruption to our work and schedule but the truth is that both have been
amazing, working hard without complaint, giving their time so generously
to all who want to play with them and talk to them. I have been
impressed by both their spirit of joining in and their maturity. They
have given freely of their time, never complaining and never getting
tired of the constant pull on their time and energy.
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15 July
Okay enough with the laryngitis!!!! This is just
ridiculous now. I am well aware that my ongoing loss of voice has
brought immeasurable peace and satisfaction to many, however it is
starting to cause some serious problems. Plus I am not thrilled about
heading to the refugee camp when I am not in full health.
I feel like I have nothing to say these days and the blog is boring. I
mean things are happening I’m just not sure they are things I want to
write in my blog, I don’t even want to think about most of them. It’s
weird like in my head I keep trying to schedule in a time to think about
things I need to think about, but I just cant seem to get a free
available time. So my limbo continues.
My writing is probably the biggest issue right now – I think for the
first time in my life I have writer’s block and it’s not what I though
tit would be. It’s not that I don’t have the ideas to write; more that I
just can't make myself sit down and write. In fact I come up with every
possible excuse not to write. I wondered if it was the academic writing
that is affecting me and I just need to go back to the novel, but then I
have deadlines with the former which makes it impossible to relax and do
the latter. Not sure what is going on at all. When asked about the most
frightening thing he had ever encountered, Ernest Hemingway said, "A
blank sheet of paper." I’ve been thinking about that. I mean if I don’t
write does that change who I am, who I have always believed I am? And
why would I not write when I want to?
I think a lot has to do with purpose – what is my reason for writing,
hell what is my reason for being? Okay that’s a bit too philosophical
for a blog. A friend asked me the other day why I was ‘spiritual’,
actually he said that knowing me I was the kind of person he thought
would believe in nothing, would think this is all there is and live to
make the best of it. I don’t at all consider myself religious but I am
spiritual and I do believe there is much more to life than this, but
what? That’s my problem right now. Maybe some aliens could abduct me and
help me out here…please.
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13 July
“The best thing
about dreams is that fleeting moment, when you are between asleep and
awake, when you don't know the difference between reality and fantasy,
when for just that one moment you feel with your entire soul that the
dream is reality, and it really happened.”
Thinking about dreams – not the ones we have in our sleep but the ones
we have for ourselves in our life. James Dean said ‘dream as if you will
live forever, live as if you will die today’ – I guess he did live by
that. I think I feel I’m not living this right now and I used to, not
always but generally yes. And interestingly it was something that
troubled other people as I learned, as if somehow it wasn’t sensible
enough. People have a thing about being ‘sensible’whatever that is and
are troubled by what they see as risk taking and classify as
‘unnecessary risk taking’.
I don’t want to be sensible
and I do not want to live an ordinary life. I have no issue with anyone
who does want that, and they should have no issue therefore with me not
wanting that. I don’t know what it means not to live an ordinary life, I
know mine has been in many ways pretty extraordinary so far though.
“A dreamer is one who can only find his way by moonlight, and his
punishment is that he sees the dawn before the rest of the world.”
(Oscar Wilde)
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5 July
I’ve been asked
what has happened to the super crap lists of late. Not really sure to
tell you the truth, I think they may have been just too biased on the
crap side of late. There’s been a lot going on, not bad stuff but not
good stuff either and I feel kind of stuck right now. Life feels like it
is moving in slow motion and I need to do something to change that, just
not sure what.
I still have the chronic laryngitis – I mean seriously how long is this
going to go on? My voice is okay if I don’t speak too much, which makes
workshops and project work a bit difficult right now. And the coughing
fits are not pleasant for anybody. Despite this I have kept up the gym
work, the swimming also but that is slower and harder because of the
coughing!!! So not swimming as much as I would like. I’m annoyed as my
running felt like it went backwards and my energy levels have been
thrown completely. The laryngitis doesn’t make me feel sick but it has
affected my energy which is irritating.
In a couple of weeks I will be heading off to the refugee camp so been
getting everything organised for that. The theatre group in the camp,
run by ad for refugees, is going from strength to strength and this year
we plan to focus on physical theatre work and some applied theatre
projects. We have learned the valuable lesson of never travelling at
night after last year and have changed some organisational stuff. The
charity and the work in the camp have been hit hard by the recession.
Everything is more expensive at a time when grants and funding has been
cut to an all time low. Not sure where this all leaves us but this
year’s trip to the camp has been a struggle to raise money for and we
need to look at how we proceed for the future as a result which is both
frustrating and disappointing.
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30 June
Well my trip to Canada was interesting. Regina is,
well let’s just say we didn’t have any distractions so we got a lot of
work done! I did manage to catch a cold or flu or something – I have no
idea what – but it’s the first time I have been sick in such a long
time, in fact the first time I have had a cold on over two years and I
didn’t like it. What made things worse is that I arrived back with the
cold gone but it took my voice with it and I was straight into running
workshops. By the second day I had completely lost my voice – a novel
experience for me. I mean I’ve had a weak voice with a sore throat but
this was no voice, non-stop coughing fits and yet my chest was
completely clear.
Okay I know this isn’t making fascinating reading but the point is that
I apparently have chronic laryngitis and have been told to rest my voice
or risk permanent damage and I have another set of workshops about to
start…tomorrow!
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16 June
Why are people so stupid? Not to mention irritating? I guess I’d have to
include myself in that! In fact I may be the person who irritates me the
most at the moment. Everything still feels very much up in the air with
my life but I realise that is mainly my own fault. Why can’t I just win
the lottery that would help solve quite a few problems?
Anyway I’m off again – this time to Regina in Canada – I know, I know
who the hell goes there and where exactly is it anyway? If one more
person asks me that I may have to slap them. I may slap someone anyway
just because that’s the kind of mood I am in. It’s only for a few days
and it is work related not some bizarre alternative holiday choice
honest. Actually I am looking forward to it in a strange way, hoping it
will be quiet and peaceful and I might finally get on with doing some
work that I need to. Hmm what’s the chances of that?
I have used up all my niceness dealing with idiots lately and I think
I’ve used my quota for the next few months (yes that is how bad it has
been).
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10 June
So the running…well first to the swimming. I have been swimming but not
as much as before (still 3 or 4 times a week though) mainly because I
have been doing more gym work and sort of running. I am now doing
5kmruns (still only on the treadmill) about 4 times a week and I have
got my time down pretty well. I am enjoying it more than before, mainly
because I don’t think I’m going to be stretchered off at the end each
time now, but I am a long way from what I’d call actually ‘enjoying’ it.
Still it is a great sense of accomplishment to be running and generally
working out so hard and being that disciplined. Though have I lost any
weight? NO!!!!!! I mean seriously how is that possible? I am happy
though that I spotted my abs the other day – 6 pack here I come. Ok
maybe not I may have just been gasping for breath at the time.
I wrote an article a while back about swimming (to do with learning to
swim as an adult). The thing is that I agreed to the article but then
they wanted photos of me swimming to go with it and I was not okay with
that. Honestly photos of me in a swimming costume, as if! After much
debate (and we are talking weeks and weeks here) I gave in and did the
photo session, threatening the photographer in the process if he got
anything but hazy pictures of me swishing through the water. I should
have known better – of course they wanted some ridiculous pose of me
leaning on the side of the pool. At least it wasn’t a body shot BUT who
looks good in a swimming hat and goggles? Who I ask you? Normally I cant
even bear to wear a swimming hat but it has to show good practice and
all that so I agreed.
The deal was – to my understanding – that it would be a short article
with one little picture of me. I could live with that…or so I thought.
The magazine came through the post and I scanned each page for my little
article, never finding it. Was it so miniscule I was missing it? Then I
turned the next page and to my horror there was a two-page spread with
one whole page the photograph of me leaning on the side of the pool.
Words cannot describe that moment of utter horror, or the moments that
have followed each time I look at it. I mean I couldn’t pretend it
wasn’t me if I tried because apart from the damn giant sized photo
(there is a small one on the other page of me swishing through the water
unrecognisable with my goggles on so I am ok with that) my name is all
over it.
Hopefully nobody I know buys swimming magazines!!!!
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7 June
Hmm why does everybody seem more annoying than normal I’m wondering. I
think I may be becoming more anti-social too! Hard to imagine I know.
Well actually I have been very sociable of late (not often by choice)
which may explain why I am feeling so grumpy.
So we opened the play -‘til Death do us part- to a great reaction from
the public, lots of discussion and debate in the talkback afterwards.
The play worked as hoped and I have since taken it into a prison for a
performance which again had a great reaction and feedback. So I have
been busy with that and back into rehearsals with it this week with a
slightly changed cast – so we now have three casts ready to run with it.
I cut 30minutes worth off the play in the end. It was taking longer than
I wanted and with this kind of material I think there is a limit to how
much you can throw at an audience before it risks becoming overwhelming.
Having had time and distance from it over the last three months made it
easy to cut, and much easier to see what really was unnecessary. I think
before that there was a tendency to want to include all that was said
(it is based on testimonies) and you need to reach a place where you
feel you are respecting what was said, giving it its place but not
putting it in from obligation. I think partly the thing was that so much
was said that was seemed so crucial or pivotal but with distance you
realise that you can still deliver that by being more selective and
building around it better.
Anyway I am happy with it and very happy with the work the actors have
done in bringing the play to life. We are now translating it into
Spanish (and adapting it in part) to open in South America. Old habits
die hard I guess – or old connections, links. Every time I think I’m
done with South America it seems to creep up on me quite unexpectedly.
I’m still not sure if that is a good thing or not.
Blogs from February 2011 - May 2011
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