Written here, today's date is 7/4. Semaphore! Sorry, couldn't resist the inside joke.
I fell behind this weekend in many respects, one of these being in journal writing. Saturday evening I had my first theater rehearsal. Sunday night I had my second.
The rehearsals are in the gymnasiu, at my school, a nice gymnasium by most standards. It's standard basketball-court sized, with a noticeable lack of bleachers for sitting or rims on the backboards for shooting. Populated by a few dozen desks and a handful of chairs, it's left locked most of the time with a padlock and metal fencing.
When facing front, there is a visible stage area that is rarely, if ever, used. Acoustics are horrible when there are less than 10 people present, and drastically improves the larger the crowd.
So I had my first rehearsal in this echo chamber Saturday night. There were five of us, all of different levels of experience. Two were women. We started with a trust fall and a concentration game called "Zip, Zap, Bop!" When pointed to, you can call "Zip" and point to someone next to you, "Zap" and point to someone across from you, or "Bop" and deflect the call to the caller. Nothing too difficult about this.
But then we did an improv game.
OK. I'm not good at dialogue - based improv games in ENGLISH. But when I don't even understand what is going on, don't know the cultural norms, and don't have a wonderful grasp on rapidly changing contexts in terms of speaking, I'm lost.
I had to laugh, because they just had no idea what I was going through, or could they have known. I was actually able to contribute little snippets, but it was just that.
We played the "continue the story" game where each person adds one phrase to a story. Yeah.
Then we were briefed on a plot we were to act out having to do with spousal abuse and counseling against it. I was to counsel the men in the situation. I did. Horribly. I think I told him to put his kids to work instead of his wife.
I learned a couple of things from this first experience. The first is that my traditional theater training is practically useless here. The second is that my improvisational Portuguese blows. The third is that theater here is dialogue-driven and very quick in that respect. The fourth is that gestures are incredibly important and a language unto themselves.
I left feeling dumber.
So Sunday night, I sucked it up and went again. This time we tried to build up characters by walking around in silence, then building on this by creating silent skits. Remember, there is an entirely different language of gesturing here. I'm still learning that, too.
We then discussed what each skit meant, and I threw in that the difference in gender roles in my culture make it hard for me to relay the same message. I explained that most pregnancies tend to be thoroughly discussed in serious relationships, without being able to explain why that is. I don't know if I offended them, but I'm starting to care less and less about censoring myself to fit into a culture I'm still trying to understand.
On Sunday, Phillip, Chris and I filmed more the bike safety maintenance video. Chris is hilarious. The video, if it gets published, will be a huge step for Peace Corps in terms of having a sense of humor about its policies!
The local kids have suddenly all whipped out the newest toy, like a fad anywhere else. They're playing with spinning top-like seeds that are about 3-4" long and have a couple grooves near the top. The grooves are to accommodate a small whip-like string attached to a 2' stick. The top is then wrapped in the string, placed on the ground, then spun into action with the stick. You keep it spinning by whipping the bottom of it, often sending the top flying several feet. It's wonderfully captivating to watch and equally difficult to do.
Today was Mozambican Women's Day. I invited (and bribed) my students to come to the festivities only to find out that there wasn't room for them to be a part of things. But I spend a few minutes talking with them about women's rights. I didn't preach anything, I just exposed the views of the boys and the girls in the group. Hopefully, I started a few discussions because they probably don't think to talk about gender roles as they're pretty clearly defined. Or at least it seems that way.
This was followed up by a dinner for the professors. Cow head. It wasn't hard to be a vegetarian. Luckily, the others were pretty drunk, so my freakishness (not eating meat) was pleasantly blown out of proportion. Oh yeah, it smelled really good.
The Canadians, Charles and Annie, read my journal from time to time. They like to see their names mentioned, so here they are. Their dog, Tofo, is a cutie and is living it up. They have a wonderful house and enjoy their jobs for the most part, relishing and lamenting the stumbling blocks all along the way. And they're from Quebec. If I say anything more, I could get into trouble!
Peace
John
