Easter Break 22nd April - 1st May, 2011

A divine Easter weekend in East London then a week of holiday down-time in Grahamstown. It all began with beach walks, children running around hunting easter eggs. Children’s joy is absolutely the best thing about Easter. Second best was sighting dassies and a baby beagle and a mole! and coming in close behind was the joy in beating Janet and Andrew’s son Matthew at scrabble. It was a particularly satisfying victory as he took it like a personal defeat of South Africa by an Australian.  Yet with pride enough to be gracious about it. Lots of lazing about and eating and drinking family-style. LOTS of Cadbury Bourneville dark chocolate for me.

                                                                         beach walk

                                                South Africa losing in the scrabble showdown

                                                                      Easter brunch

                                                                 East London beach

The two wonderful animal highlights from the Easter weekend (not including the chocolate-monster children) were: 1. Seeing a beagle puppy on the beach that came up and smooched me, confirming for me that beagles are absolutely the most adorable doggies in the world; and 2. In the yard of the house next to where we were staying was a family of Dassie's! I first heard of dassies some years ago and had my doubts that they were no more then made-up mythology for humour at my gullible expense. Then to be ambushed by a whole family of these little adorable beasties!!! A magical treat. They look like a cross between a guinea pig, a possum, a meer-cat and a wombat. They definitely have a distinctive squishable and darling appeal. And absolutely worthy of importation into Australia, I'm sure.

                                                                    Dassies!

On the way home we collected the dogs from the kennels. Edie, Matt and Bridget’s dog who is of the same family as Pi yet almost twice the size, actually bowled me over on to my knees in her excitement at liberation from the kennel. I grabbed at fence structures for support to hold me as she bolted forward, all the time laughing hysterically at the madness of it all. Unable to stop her, I had to run along to keep up. As the very sweet, gorgeous kennel-guy said: “these are not dogs; they are horses”.  

                                                        happy liberated horse

Wednesday 27^th April was Freedom Day – to celebrate voting rights of blacks in the national election of 1994 - the first post-apartheid election. Andrew told me the moving story of the massive lines at voting booths around the country where blacks and whites mingled in the excitement and emotion of the momentous day. Of course, the day also commemorates the election of Nelson Mandela, the first South African president to be voted in by a fully representative democratic election.

On the Thursday, I watched the other R&J rehearsals to which I have contributed. This group consists of 6 local township performers, who would not otherwise be supported for this work, and is essentially a training ground for the Ubom main company. Madalay the director, is a tall, gorgeous Amazonian-like woman with a dazzling smile, passion and obvious talent. The showing was very engaging and quite different from our version, which was great. Madalay has modernized much of the language into contemporary English as well as having a lot more dialogue in Xhosa. The two households were two political sides, both alike in dignity - the ANC vs the democrats, I think? The physical work was very good, but I could sense the same issue Dion and I were aware of with our production, especially at the beginning of rehearsals – that the actors have an embodied energy when speaking in their own first language, that dissipates in Shakespeare’s language. I think this is not an issue specific to non-English as first language speakers. It’s just about making the language your own, which we all need to do, since no one (as far as I know) still speaks in Shakespearean English. When lines are insecure this issue is especially overt because the performer is just trying to remember the words and not connecting to them at all.  It is similar to me trying to work in accent and concentrating on the sounds rather than my intentions, though I’m sure a whole new language is considerably more challenging.

I spent quite a few hours of the holiday watching the Ubom past poetry shows on dvd. They choral work, harmonising of voices as well as physical shapes and engagement (even when not speaking) are all exceptional. I am very inspired and have started a list of the poems I would love to explore in this form. It reminded me of many of the poems I loved as a school student and got my mind buzzing about how to present them on stage. Amongst the poetry was a sneaky Shakespeare show (yes, poetry also), that I watched very eagerly. The set up was a quick, comically heightened overview of the various plays and characters that they then went on to explore. The character/narrative focus, with each character demanding that their story be heard, made me think of Pirandello's 'Six Character's in Search of an Author'. Very clever. I keep plotting Shakespeare education shows in my head regularly these days... surely one of them will eventually manifest.

Possibly the best animal highlight of the holiday was seeing, and holding(!!) a mole for the first time. On the sunday morning after Easter, I was in the front garden with Janet looking at the roses and I observed a couple of mounds of dirt which Janet explained were from the moles. I told her that I'd never seen a mole in my life and expressed my deep desire to encounter one. That very afternoon, I went on a walk to the Grahamstown botanical gardens with Janet and Andrew and Pi and Beatrix (the weimeraners). On our way, we saw a man chasing this little creature all over the road, and the man was being chased by his cat, who was really after the little creature. Janet and Andrew pointed out to me that the tiny thing was a mole. I was surprised at the size, having expected something more possum or dassie-sized. I walked straight over, past the man and the cat and grabbed the sweet little creature in my hand. The man then saw me scrabbling to try and take a photo whilst retaining a grip on moley, and kindly took several photos for me.

                                                  animal-bliss smile, with moley.

After the botanic gardens walk, we passed through the Rhodes grounds on the way home. There I saw a little kitten who seemed as curious about me as I was of her. I know not to touch strange cats in case I get ringworm (learnt this lesson the hard way) however, this kitty came up and touched ME.

I had no choice in the matter and was desperately trying to run and hide from her (while I zoomed in for a good pic), but she got me! I was comforted by Janet's reassurance that this was a well-looked after cat, and is friendly because she is the recipient of daily love from the students. So, either half the Rhodes campus has ringworm, or this sweet feline is ringworm-free. I took my bets on the latter (sorry, Mum!).

These latest animal-encounter delights have led me to acknowledge the 'Small 5 of Africa'.
(There was a spider that was going to be in this collection, but I hadn't uploaded the photos of it before my camera got stolen - more on that to come)


THE SMALL 5 OF AFRICA: (in no particular order)

No. 5  Rhodes Kitty

No. 4  baby beach-Beagle

 No. 3  Frankie's frog

No. 2  Dassie in the divide

No. 1  Holy mole!

Thursday 21st April, 2011

Last day on the road. I did first shift as navigator up front with Dion.  I learnt a little bit of South African history as we passed through the Free State. This province is where the Boers set up camp separate from the British. Signage everywhere in Afrikaans. In a roadside shop, I was spoken to in Afrikaans (I presume, I certainly couldn’t understand it), which then switched to English when met by a bewildered expression. I investigated South African chip brands (the sub-study of my fellowship) and so far on the expedition, Simba is still winning. It won several years ago, but the 2006 study wasn’t as comprehensive. I am adamant the Simba success has nothing to do with the little lion picture on the pack. 

                                                      chippies

An easy drive back to Grahamstown as it was all mainly along the one road. I slept for a few hours. As we neared home, a jolly mood abounded. The Ubomies have a holiday break for 10 days starting tomorrow. 

                                        Romeo and Juliet (Thami and Sisonke) ready for holidays.

Arriving back at Rhodes, we unloaded the cumbersome sets into the theatre dock and returned the props to ‘the space’ – the storage area specifically for Ubom’s props and paraphernalia. I was dropped home to discover minor catastrophe. Pi the wiemeraner had been hit by a car and was off to the vet. He’d jumped the fence and run out on to the road. Janet had heard the cafuffle and run outside to see the traumatized woman who had hit him on the side of the road, holding her young baby (as in the woman’s baby, not Pi) in her arms and weeping. Small town: she looked up and said “Oh Janet, I’m so sorry, I’ve hit your dog!” Janet comforted her and processed the blood everywhere, seeing Pi battered and grazed and shakey and scared, but okay. He returned from the vet with two stitches on his neck, and a couple on his leg, and a big open graze on his head.  Once the dopey drugs wore off, he was still as dorky and dopey as he always was.

                                                       Pi's scar on his head

An exciting discovery was the pile of dvds I found by my bed. Janet has been through the Ubom archives and brought home more than half a dozen dvds of the company’s past poetry shows for me to watch and to inspire me for my own poetry show idea. Some holiday viewing! Once I’ve finished this lot I’ll move on to the other past shows. On tour, I watched a video of a stage mask performance and it inspired me to write my first ever mask show. It will probably never face the world, but it was a joyous state of inspiration to be in for a few days. So after this next indulgence in viewing, I will hopefully head home with drama-tically increased creative output. Whether it is worthy creative output remains to be seen. 

A delicious evening dinner at Haricots bistro. The third time they have successfully served my veganism. I had a super tasty vege curry served with their exceptional chilli sauce.

Good Friday tomorrow. Janet and Andrew’s eldest son, Matthew is visiting with his wife Bridget and their daughters Isabelle and Stella. A braai is planned, and cupcake-making with the grandchildren. On Saturday we head to East London for three days over Easter.  Time to absorb as much as possible….food, wine and chocolate, save the knowledge for next week.

Wednesday 20th April, 2011

Morning workshop. We had even been warned of potentially hung-over students and most definitely late-comers for the early start. The latter was certainly evident, and I suspect some students didn’t bother to show at all (or perhaps it was because 2 schools had left the festival early or pulled out last minute or something). As a result, I combined my workshop group with Tshego’s as she was based in the room next to mine.  Together we had around 20 learners and shared the time alternating exercises. I particularly loved the framework for documentary drama,  surfing TV channels and coming across a soapie or a sports show, the news, cooking show, talk show, advertisement etc. So each group was allocated a form to express their ideas, and each had their moment in the spotlight.

Then moving to the theatre, the show before R&J ran very late, and the performers followed it with an unprogrammed Q&A, which made us go on stage almost an hour and a half late. While the Q&A did say useful things about theatre etiquette that probably helped us in having such a respectful and attentive audience, they delayed us immensely and the students were disrupted in their scheduling, as were we. The show went very well, despite all this. I had made mention in all my workshops about the kissing in the production and told the students that if they wanted to find out what happens in the story that I recommended not screaming and hooting and laughing whenever there was a moment of physical intimacy. I’m not sure if this made the difference, but they were markedly more well-behaved in this respect than the Hilton student audience.

After the delays, we had a mad dash to pack up and get back on the road. We left the school at 3pm and arrived at our B&B after 11pm. All very tired. Only a splash of rain on this stretch and mostly we dozed when we could, or tried to. 

                                                   Romeo and Juliet set on stage

                                                           Packing the trailer

                                                    late night arrival at the guest house

Tuesday 19th April, 2011

                              Tour essentials: Wine, noodles, jam, rusks, dark chocolate.

The morning rehearsal at the Guesthouse, working in the new cuts, was successful - a productive use of time. Then we headed in to the festival for lunch. The cast went to see a show, while Dion and I returned to collect the drum that had been left behind that was necessary for Nox’s workshop.

                                                                 festival kitty

                                          Outside the foyer of the International school theatre hall.

We each had 2 workshops in the workshops. I experienced what Darrilyn and Neville had spoken about, when after giving instructions for an exercise I was assured that they understood, only to discover later when I was checking in on the groups, that one or two were re-explaining in their own language to the students who hadn’t followed. I have realized that in my excitement and enthusiasm, I tend to talk quite quickly during workshops.  Fortunately this festival I had scored a space with room to move. A geography classroom, it was still quite small for twenty-odd students to play drama games in, but infinitely preferable to a lecture theatre. With explanations and language difficulties the workshop was slower moving, but much more physical and fun. One word and one sentence stories were challenging concepts, but acting out their stories brought creative responses. Exercises such as zip-zap, I got you a gift, What are you doing?, knife and fork, and snap shots, were all well-received. Zip zap especially, when I added the competitive element of elimination. 
I made a couple of young fans… 

The evening’s performance of ‘Door’ went extremely well. The audience response was more vocal. Even if they were just as confused by the abstract style and lack of linear narrative, the students at this festival seemed more able to let go of the need for those things. And the actors did a beautiful job. Still no breakage of saucers, just a great viewing position in the wings for me.

Monday 18th April, 2011

At breakfast we served up the script cuts, which were taken gracefully. Then we miraculously arrived early at the venue – the Mafikeng International School- for our tech time. Unfortunately the crew were late, but we passed the time with set repairs. Back to wall fixing, this time with Tshego’s assistance, now a breeze due to past experience. 

I found a sneaky source of internet, hurrah! And had brief stolen moments while the cast teched ‘Door’, filtering through hundreds of facebook updates to find any snippets of news from home. Missing friends and loving plans of catch-ups and wine-tour adventures when I return.

Then tech rehearsal for R&J. Not as much variety available with our lights this time so we’ll have less flashy colour range and mood changes. There is also an unfortunate long gap between stage and audience so it will be interesting to see how this affects the students’ response. 

                                                 Sisonke pretending to be helping fix the doors

                                                                 Tshego, mistress of the wall

                                                       Tech rehearsal for 'Door'

                                                           Sisonke, not pretending to sleep

wall brilliance

The festival organizers Neville and Derrilyn mentioned to me that English literacy is lower here at this festival, as some of the students come from more remote and under-privileged towns. They warned me that often students will nod when you ask if they understand the given task, only to discover down the track that they hadn’t comprehended, usually due to a language barrier. I had a great chat with this pair, responsible for the running of these regional schools festivals. They said they had researched and had found no other programs like this in the world; only a Victorian schools fest in Australia coming close to something like it. It would be a fabulous if we did have an equivalent National program of schools festivals. It would not only be brilliant to expose the millions of students to more arts experiences, but it would also be an incredible opportunity for arts employment. Very inspiring…. If only I had the motivation and business-mind for organizing such a happening.

We had a later finish than expected, due to the late start. So though we had planned to rehearse this evening, we postponed to the morning instead, when energy and focus will be optimum. The majority of the cast went to friend’s family braii for dinner but I was still stuffed from the night before and couldn’t fathom two braiis in a row. No braii stamina. It must take practice and lengthy cultural indoctrination. I’m still working on my bbq endurance skills.

Sunday 17th April, 2011

An uneventful (thank goodness) drive to Mafikeng. After settling into rooms, Dion and I met to discuss the further proposed cuts and changes to the text. Then it was braii time! I was terribly excited about the braii buns and they didn’t disappoint. Unfortunately, I was quite stuffed after just one but had to press on for the baked potatoes, pumpkin, kumera, onion and mushrooms were all sensational. Full to the brim with delicious braii-ness, I would like to blame my food intoxication for the loss of the pool challenge. But actually, it was a superb cleaning up by Nox and Themba for which I must acknowledge their sheer skill.  And utter flukiness.  Dion and I must save our brilliance for directing and cryptic crosswords.

                                                     The Fellowship of the Braii.

                                                     the directors' team...

                                                    ....cleaned up by Nox

Saturday 16th April, 2011

End of KwaZulu-Natal Schools Festival at Hilton

Travel to Vanderbijlpark, riding shotgun with Ilana.- or Illama as she is now affectionately known- behind the wheel. In telling me of her hometown, Stellenbosch (famous wine region, "very white"), she told me the story of how she and her best friend from childhood (the housemaid’s daughter) were unable to go to the same primary school during the apartheid era so her mother, started up a secret garage school for mixed race education. Ilana’s mum would go and collect students from the township each morning. And bring them back to the garage school for some thorough home-schooling. When they went to high school,  Ilana and her best friend parted ways – apparently it was/is typical of Stellenbosch socialisaton that one mostly hangs out with the one ‘type’ of people (or colour). Indeed, it is possibly still true of a large part of the population, this lack of ‘mixing’. The  theatre world, and Ubom especially, is an exception, far from the rule.

Another great story Ilana told me was of a tour Ubom did a couple of years ago. They were travelling with a broken left indicator, knowingly. When they were pulled over by police, they feigned surprise at the faulty indicator and set about pretending to try and make it work. As they did, they began singing some Xhosa songs that they performed in some of their shows. The Xhosa police were so entertained by the Afrikaan’s Ilana and the Sri Lankan intern travelling with the company singing in Xhosa, that the group were let off with only a warning.

The following year, touring again, the company was stopped at a road block, when the same too Xhosa police came running towards them and jumped into the combie, saying “It’s you again, we knew it!!” and asking them to sing for them again. Very sweet story.

In the afternoon, we arrived at the Africa guesthouse located amidst a small suburb of Greek street names (from Olympus to Cassandra, Hector and to Cyclopsweg). All of us girls shared a cosy little flat. I’d had some joy at the local shops locating soy milk and dairy-free margarine. So first thing, a coffee! I had almost cried at the third coffee-house I tried along our road trip that said they didn’t have soy milk. Now instant coffee never tasted so good.
We had a later start to look forward to in the morning = sleep-in= party time. The boy’s flat had a pool table so naturally that was the choice party venue. However, we soon leant that the balls had been stolen by previous guests, so the only logical solution was to play drinking games instead.

I won* the Circle of  Death, which meant I got to drink the Kings cup!  (*lost)

                                                           The circle of death...

                                                           Winner!!!

Friday 15th April, 2011

Breakfast at the B&B. The previous morning I had inquired if mushrooms were available as an alternative to bacon and sausages., explaining that I am a vegan. Though not an option on that day, when I declined a hot breakfast this morning, our sweet, chatty, weathered host took great delight in bemoaning that she’d specially gone and got mushrooms for me.  So naturally I yielded to the hot breakfast.  I was pleasantly amused when my steaming mushrooms emerged smothered in butter, and secretly palmed them off to Nox, who relayed that they weren’t that good anyway. Meanwhile, Ilana was covered in tomato sauce from an accident whilst shaking the bottle mid- story-telling. Reminiscent of the mud, we all tried in vain to hide our laughter under concerned sympathy for her splattered clothing. Again.

On arrival at Hilton we set to work on door-repairs. 9 artsy-types could not figure out how to make the drill work, and were suitably embarrassed when the handyman came to the rescue and demonstrated that the drill began to drill when it was pressed to the surface it was required to drill (well, how were we supposed to know that?) When my moral support no longer seemed effectual or necessary I allowed myself to be distracted by the monkeys in the avocado trees.

The performance of ‘Door’ went very well. It was a much quieter audience response as the show is quite abstract, but they were obviously entertained and intrigued enough to be extremely well behaved throughout. I had been enlisted to stand-by in the OP wings in case of any saucer-breakages that might occur within the show, but luckily my services were not required, and I got to enjoy the show from a vantage point.

My last workshop was great, being more comfortable with the exercises and what to expect in response, I had lots of fun. All done and packed up, we went to watch another show at the festival called Big Boys Don’t Dance.  Energetic, funny and exciting show challenging perspectives of male dancers. Some very very cool dancing. The students loved it and so did we.

We all remained in good spirits on the trip back to the guesthouse despite discovering the OHP glass broken (going over a speed bump? Someone opened the back door accidentally?) We’ve solved so many problems so far already that we handled this one breezily. And the shows for round one of the tour were done and successful. So, sundowners. And then we carried on for a few hours, our revelries briefly joined by three Spanish mountain bikers who were in town for a competition. I think we scared them away with our boisterousness. We danced the night away in the guesthouse dining-hall, grooving to a funky South African mix pumping out from my laptop.

Thursday 14th April, 2011

Team Pietermaritzburg and Team Hilton set to work early. While team Pietermaritzburg travelled to the town of their title and sourced repair materials, tools, and an over-head projector, myself Matt and Themba set to work at the Hilton venue fixing the eroded walls. Fixing walls is becoming a field of expertise for me on tours, but this was a new feat of creativity. There was no way we were going to be able to replicate the rough beauty that Barati had created on the walls, yet almost anything was going to be an improvement on their dismal state after the rain’s abuse.

Dion and I shared our morning of victories via sms: Got paper and glue for the walls from the school printing room! Borrowed an OHP for the show! New wheels for the doors! Cable-ties to piece our wall back together! Sandpaper! Screw-drivers! Roibos tea to stain the walls!!!

Fixing a wall where the rain got in...

After a productive start to the day, the workshops began. As a last-minute addition to the workshop line-up, I was given the only remaining venue, which was a lecture theatre. Fortunately pre-warned, and not inclined to give a lecture, I had adapted exercises to work within limitations. My workshop blurb (inspired by the other Ubomies): 

LIFE OUT LOUD: Have you got a story to tell? The truth? A myth? A lie? A dark secret? A fantasy? A romance? A tale of remorse or revenge? Or just a silly tale to make your friends laugh? Whether you want to write it or say it (or sing it or dance it!), there is a story in all of us that needs to get out. Discover the play inside you and share it out loud!

I had about twenty students in each of the two workshops today.  As a warm-up created an thunderstorm with hands clicking, whooshing, patting, thumping. Then an adaptation of 'stop/go', that could be done at their lecture-desks. This one was still a winner even with the variation. Then we moved on to one-word stories, alphabet stories, and telling their own tales with cue lines to establish structure. A few students read theirs out loud.  The recurring themes of love and struggle were fascinating. Two of my favourites:

1.) “For as long as she could remember, the town that she lived in had always had the usual routines that bored her to death. Then one day a new boy came to ive on her block and she thought he was very handsome. This caused her to change her look completely, just for the by to take notice of her. Everyone was amazed because they thought she was totally different. And then, to everyone’s surprise they fell so much in love and life was never the same for her. She wished she could take him to the moon so that she could be satisfied that he was for her alone. Finally, to her surprise, it was just only a dream”.

2.) ”For as long as he could remember, the town that David lived in had always been an underdog. Then one day gold was discovered. This caused dispute among the residents. Everyone was entitled to it, so they assumed. And then to everyone’s surprise it was inextractable. Finally, the town clerk decided to sell the land to foreigners and the town was once again poor.”

Finally we finished with contemporising fairy tales, which the learners (the term used here rather than ‘students’) presented to the rest of the group in any theatrical mode they wished. My favourite of these was a contemporary Goldilocks, presented as a news report. Goldilocks was a drug addict from Soweto who broke into a house in Johannesburg. The rich family had gone to play golf. First Goldilocks the thief stole the fancy shoes, then she stole money, then she jumped into the Astin Martin to take it, but because of her habit, she fell asleep in the car. When the family came home and found her, they called ADT security and police.

In the evening, our first showing of Romeo and Juliet was a hit! The students (maybe almost a thousand??) went CRAZY when we began with the loud music,  the taxi fight over which music to play- hip-hop or pantzula, leading into the dance off. The actors were amazing at keeping the energy and sailing through the first half. A few technical issues with the party scene, and the second half had some pacing issues, but overall, we were very pleased. Big applause from the audience and even a couple of enthusiasts giving a standing ovation. The show still needs more cuts as a few lines had crept back in, and we discovered that the raucous laughter (especially every time Romeo and Juliet kiss) is adding at least 5 minutes on to the show. Fortunately we will have a little bit more time before the next performance to tighten things up. Worthy of celebration.

A couple of drinks and a persistent propositioner at the Old Main pub. The girls said I should’ve found out if he had a farm (because of course that would make all the difference…for a vegan…).  Best quote of the night was after my physical questioning of Illana’s pastry dinner, and she replied “Stop poking my pie”  (guess you had to be there). Post show jollyness and gleeful relief, and then exhaustion took over. 

                                                   Ubomies at Hilton Schools Festival

Wednesday 13th April, 2011

We all convened in the B&B lounge for a hearty breakfast. Most well-rested, certainly all with good appetites. I enjoyed the tasty little button mushrooms I had with brown toast, but was bewildered by the slice of fresh tomato and cucumber that was offered as an accompaniment to my breakfast. Tasted good though.

                                                strange slice of cucumber with my breakfast

                                                             our first stopover in Umtata

                                                      the boys with the trailer in the rain...

After stopping to get tape to secure the tarp over the set, we were on the road again, and sure enough the bus was resounding with song in a matter of minutes. These voices. These harmonies. I wonder if this is only possible in an ensemble that has been working together for as long as these guys.

I typed blog entries to the joyful music, frequently gazing up at the magnificent landscape, while Nox and Sisonke took turns at using my camera to take photographs. I knew I had to give them notes from the run yesterday, but postponed it as long as possible so I could continue enjoying the bus choir. They practiced the songs from R & J so that counts as work.

Later, Dion and I exercised our genius in completing several crosswords, including our second challenging cryptic one together.

Smooth sailing quickly turned to rough fare as the afternoon unfolded. And sadly, no camera battery left to document the dramas! After having re-routed a couple of times trying to find a faster road, then missing a turnoff and getting lost  (subsequently invalidating our short-cut), the rain started to come down so fiercely that we had to pull over to the side of the road until it settled. I was wondering about the condition of the set in the trailer under such a downpour, especially as the wooded doors for the troupe’s other show ‘Door’, are in danger of swelling when wet, rendering them dysfunctional in performance. Also, the groovy treatment that Barati put on our crate walls is at great risk of being destroyed by the hectic rain. But no-one was talking about it. I suspected that the silence on the subject meant that we were all seriously concerned. Some beastly thunder and snaps of lightening. Misty outside upon the heath.

After some time, we were back on the road, driving carefully through the drizzle. I chatted with Matt, our fight choreographer and crew for the tour. Answering my question of how he came to be here, he told me his story – his parents are South African, but moved to the US when he was very young, so he refers to himself – and has a cool hat with the title- as HALFRICAN (say it with an American accent). Matt finished his theatre degree last May and wanted to spend a year volunteering, and combining that with visiting his second home. As his father had studied at Rhodes, he sent out an email asking around if there was any theatre-related volunteering he could do at the university. The email eventually found its way to Sarah, the company manager at Ubom!, where it was replied to enthusiastically. Now, Matthew is spending a year in Grahamstown as an intern for the company, teaching a community theatre group, writing and directing their shows, as well as running workshops at schools around town. And of course, being the wonderful fight choreographer for Romeo and Juliet. I am selfishly relieved he is with us, not only for the fights, but also as the doors are very heavy and cumbersome, and although I am stronger than I look ( I am), I’m not so strong that I can safely handle the doors. If the rain doesn’t damage them, I might. Matt’s strength and superior genuine positivity are a great asset to the tour. He must have twice the positivity I have, and I have a lot. ….. He probably has five times my strength. At least.

                                                   blogging on the road

                                                       Matt and Miss Blog

At last we made it to Hilton college, an hour or so late for our tech call. We unloaded the trailer and surveyed the damage. The R&J walls need to be re-treated as the rain had washed all the paper and glue off. The doors, while remaining mostly dry, have several wheels broken off and some other chipping damage and need to be generally, cleaned, sanded, beaten and screw-drivered back into form. The glass on the over-head projector is shattered. While they teched Door (coping remarkably well with the mangled doors) I wrote a list of necessities and liased with Barati, and also asked around the school for whatever assistance possible. At least we have the morning tomorrow to make repairs before workshops begin at 2pm. I also worked through R&J scene by scene with ideas for lighting as I observed what its available to us.

R & J tech – our super technician Tina had lots of great ideas and was very quick with moving through our cues, but just when we thought the days woes were over, the combie got stuck in the mud as we tried to go home to a well-earned rest. Tragic. Innumerous attempts and different tactics. I wandered about hopelessly, thinking who to phone, trying to find help or at least things to put under the wheels for grip, wondering if my adding to the pushing throng would make any difference. Shivering in the rain in a quandary. With Dion behind the wheel, the cast were fierce in the muck, pushing and yelling instructions, sighing, swearing, and pushing again. Ilana fell in the mud and sustained a gracious sense of humour. All the while it rained. All the while I wished I had camera battery….

After half an hour of admirable effort and persistence by the cast, three more able bodies (the next 2 guys teching their show) had heard the grinding engine and our bootless cries and had come to help. At last, the combie emerged from the mud and on to safe ground. We departed in joyous revelry at the success all smattered in various degrees of muddyness, with Dion and I at the lower spectrum, and Ilana taking the cake. Of mud.

                                                           next day muddy evidence

                                                                         bog

                                                                 muddy hell