To Yearn for the Vast & Endless Sea

FROM PHILIP HIMBERG:

We gather for the last time here on Manda at the Akili Dance Studio to say goodbye. I ask one question: What will you take away from your time at the Sundance Institute East Africa Theatre Lab? Here are some of the replies:

• I am richer as a person and as an artist
• It has really touched my heart. I am more human.
• I go away absolutely certain of my abilities. I have seen what more is possible. I am a playwright.
• I thank God I have made new friends. I go back with loads of knowledge, challenged as a creator. I want to sustain the growth.
• A reinvigorated sense of hope for the theatre of East Africa.
• It’s nice to know I’m not alone, there are artists I share the same dream with.
• I feel “re-incarnated” in the theatre.
• I feel pressure now not to give up on that space between idea and production. Anytime you are in Uganda, I have that ‘space’ for you.
• I have happy tears. You have all re-defined who I am.
• Now we’ve become a family. I’m leaving this place a more rejuvenated Jacob.
• For me, like a dream comes true – to meet many artists in East Africa. Thanks Sundance for making this happen. This is a new beginning for us to create a network in East Africa. I hope there is a next and a next and a next and a next…
• I came as “Andnet”; I leave as CNN (note: we called him CNN because he was filming us every day, as our archivist).
• To me, this is a family now. Your Sundance have protected us in a way. Sundance has started and “we” have to continue it.
• I feel like I’m Kenya, I feel like I’m Ethiopia, I feel like I’m Uganda. I feel like I’m Rwanda.
• The important thing to me is ‘the space’.
• You’ve enriched me in ways you may not be able to know.
• I will miss the way we danced.
• The first thing I take away is the value of smile. And I learned the word: Dramaturg.
• I take away the power of listening. People here were listening.
• Thank you for being true to you so I could be true to me.
• I go back having learned to listen to the unsaid and unspoken.
• Our destiny is in our hands.

The last story I told was the confluence in my life of Antoine de Ste. Exupery’s THE LITTLE PRINCE. I am staying in a house called BAOBAB surrounded by Baobab trees. Sundance's Theatre Program recently developed a musical called SAINT EX, about this author and pilot. In Rwanda, we stayed in a hotel called Le Petit Prince. And this morning I found this quote. I recited it as we watched the sea from our Studio window:

"If you want to build a ship, don’t drum up the men to gather wood, divide the work and give orders. Instead teach them to year for the vast and endless sea.” -Antoine de Ste. Exupery

Deborah Asiimwe in Lamutown square performing a portion of THE BOOK OF LIFE

Becoming a Playwright on Manda Island

FROM SITAWA NAMWALIE (Kenyan Playwright/Poet)

I came to Manda Island on a Sundance retreat to work on my first production of dramatized poetry, “Cut off my Tongue” and to “take it to the next level”. Well I’ve done much more than that, I’ve tossed it out, and started on something entirely new. After two frustrating days I realized COMT is perfect as it is. I took the step to use this time instead to create something entirely new. 

I was extremely nervous to begin with. Here I was embarking on a quest to write a play. Would I succeed? 

Yes I did. After talking, talking, talking I settled on writing on what for me is dangerous. I told my own story. You see, I am a privileged African. My story does not conform to the things that have come to signify Africa. Poverty, hunger, famine, flies on faces, HIV/AIDS, war. In my experience no one wants to hear about that life. I was afraid that the other participants would be contemptuous of my story, declare it fake. “That is not the real Africa!” But they did not. They recognized the stories of their parents, their uncles who had similar experiences at the University of Nairobi. 

Instead of contempt I was left with the question. How will we know who we are and where we are as a people if we do not write much more from our contemporary lives? 

Giant Dragons and Condemned Goats

FROM PHILIP HIMBERG:

So, George Seremba, Christopher and I are sitting at breakfast at Baobab House and George suddenly has a look of horror creep into his face and I turn to see what he is seeing, and there is a HUGE Crocodile looking thing nonchalantly crossing our lawn. My heart leaps to my mouth, I yell for Bernard, our houseman, who comes running.

“Oh,” he says, “it’s harmless.” Harmless! I am sure it will bite my arm off in the least, and at most, devour me entirely. He laughs. I don’t. Turns out it is a Monitor Lizard and very rarely sighted on the Island. I am “lucky” I find out to have seen one. I know my mosquito netting is not going to save me from this creature who I’m convinced can crawl up the walls of the house and into my bedroom. I vow to shut the windows tight tonight, no matter how stuffy.

On the beach, a goat is waiting to die. I’m convinced of this. Every few days a lone goat is pulled on a rope to the water’s edge. He and his ‘owner’ are waiting for a boat. It takes awhile but the boat does appear and then the man lifts the unhappy goat into the boat and off they go. I know this man isn’t taking the goat for a pleasure cruise, nor to walk him as a pet through the streets of Lamu. This goat is going to be slaughtered, and I sense it knows it. I want to do a ‘goat rescue’ but I fear I’ll start an international incident.  Au revoir, petit chevre, I think.

Today was DeBrief Day. We gathered the group at Akili to hear their ideas and suggestions for the future.  Another dynamic and amazing conversation. Aside from the obvious and small complaints – more Ugali at Lunch, more ‘electricity ON’ hours for computer recharging (all of which we took to heart), the larger and more complex conversations were about Sundance’s own vision and the need for these artists not to be dependent on us in any way. There are many needs we can meet – more development, more mentorship particularly in the area of directing, workshops, ability for continued exposure to each other’s work and to western work, travel within Africa to see each other’s work and to collaborate etc. – but – everyone also knows that Sundance cannot take all of this on – and that based on what we hear, we will begin to craft a program that follows our own strengths as well as their expressed needs. We promise ourselves not to think too much about this immediately, to let time pass where we can grow to better and more deeply understand what we are learning. I take pages and pages of notes, and then pack them away.

Dinner was a quiet affair after a nice afternoon of swimming and packing our suitcases. The participants created a fun ‘awards’ show – the Mandas (named for the Island). Virtually everyone won something. I received: “Best Swahili Speaker” and was asked to do my acceptance speech in Kiswahili. “Lao Osha Punda”, I said. (Today, I wash the Donkey). One of our Tanzanians fell to the ground in laughter. Not sure why, but he laughed so hard he had to leave the area. I walked home in the moonlight alone, looked at the ghostly clouds passing overhead and knew that in a few days time this wll be but a dream.

Tomorrow, we will gather for formal goodbyes.

An Audience of Veiled Woman Watching Hip-Hop

This was “Lamu Day”. We had decided to spend a day in town, offering some performances to the locals, and also encouraging the local artists to join us to perform. It was a process full of blind alleyways and complications, but our terrific Lab Fellow, Alumbe Hellen, lead the way as she knew this community. After many Dhow trips into town and back, meeting with officials and with young people, we had a plan. Our women participants were required to dress very conservatively and even to wear head scarves and to cover their shoulders. They all looked quite gorgeous, I must say, piling into the Boat into town. We had rented a “sound system” if you can call it that, and even paid the Town Crier to go around announcing the free event. As I passed around town through the winding streets, I even knew a few locals by this time, and we greeted each other warmly. We had a lunch meeting with Errol Trzebinsky, a lovely older woman who had written the Biography of the character Bob Redford played in OUT OF AFRICA. She’s quite a charming person and was eager to know how we found our work on Lamu. At 4pm sharp, the show began. Our own Grace Ibanda emceed the show along with a local lad, and it alternated between snippets of the work we had done here and local talent – acrobats, actors doing skits, hip hop, singing, dance etc. For two hours it seemed the entire town had gathered on the square – children, men and women, totally veiled women, imams, the religious and the secular, babies – I stood in the center amid the crowd and watched this crazy ‘event’ unfold. And thought: how great that Sundance rented this funky sound system and acknowledged the people who live here, and acknowledged the homegrown talent and shared the space with them. Everyone had a great time. Lots of laughter from the crowd (often to my bewilderment) and hearty applause. By 6:15pm, the show was over as it was time for prayers and as quickly as they had arrived, the crowd dispersed. It was only then I recognized how exhausted I was (we all were), and yet, happy we had extended ourselves this way.

The ride home on the Dhow was special. The boat was packed. I perched on the edge up front and looked back at this crowd of Sundance artists, friends, the boat guys, and as darkness fell around us, and they sang and sang and sang, I was filled again with unspeakable wonder about how this came to be, where I was in this world, and how fortunate to have met these new friends, as we sailed and sailed home to Manda.

Rachael’s 30th birthday party was that night. A huge blow out for nearly 150 guests. I only stayed until Midnight, but got to see our own artists give Rachel the gift she will never forget – the Rwandans sang and danced, Mirsho recited in Swahili, and Sitawa read a poem she wrote. It was so joyous. I retired at midnight, though some of our crew stayed up all night to watch the sunrise.

The Ingredients

FROM CHRISTOPHER HIBMA:

As a producer, I am always fascinated where things come and what the ingredients are that make a successful experience. Today I sat down with Rachael from Diamond Beach and asked her to detail every member of her staff as well as who supplies the food we eat and where it comes from. By posting their names here, I honor their hard work and dedication to the Sundance Institute Theatre Lab on Manda. Here is a partial list. Remember that everything that exists on Manda was brought here by dhow from somewhere else. Everything. And made/modified/served/delivered/etc by hand...

Diamond Beach Village Staff

• Kazungu - Head Chef
• Patrick - Kitchen Staff
• Franklin - Kitchen Staff
• Athman - Dishwasher
• Kombo - Server
• Salim - Server
• Mwalimu - Rooms Manager
• William - Rooms Boy
• Anderson - Gardener
• Sylvia - Laundry & Staff Chef
• Kapala - Dhow Captain
• Muhammed - Night Watchman
• Hassan - Dhow Captain
• Mabai - Kisura House Manager

Food & Supplies

• All seafood (barracuda, white snapper, red snapper, prawns, calamari) is delivered by Salim and comes this time of year from the northern islands, because the open ocean near Diamond is too rough to fish in (Kazungu taught me how to gut and filet a fish last week!)
• Our chapatis, samosas and most Swahili food items are made across the bay in Shela by Amiri's wife and mother
• Milk and honey is delivered every morning by a guy who lives on Shela, but whose bees and cows are on Manda
• Country's dad supplies all of our raw greens, fruits & vegetables
• All of the crab we enjoy is harvested from the Mangrove trees along the water
• Diamond Beach has a 90,000 litre water tank for laundry and the garden. This rain water tank has fresh fish in it to eat the algae. 
• Diamond has a line from a desalination water tank on a neighboring property and is pressurized to deliver clean water to a 1500 litre tank drop by drop (prior to 2005 every bit of fresh water had to be delivered daily by dhow from Shela)
• Diamond has one dhow, but access to three (Diamond, Angalia and Renaldo)
• All of the furniture here is made from the Neem Tree by Saidi (the same tree whose leaves make a tea that Philip swears has cured him of every ailment)
• Diamond has electricity from 6:00-10:00pm only every day from a generator that runs on petrol
• All pillows, towels, silverware, glassware, blankets, bathroom supplies are flown in from Mombasa. 

It's pretty remarkable that we've had a successful Lab in a place that is markedly different from our locations in the U.S. I will miss this heavenly place and I'm sure that our participants will, too. There's nothing like having your morning tea while gazing out at the Indian Ocean. And then heading to work at a gorgeous dance studio along a pristine beach. Tomorrow we head into Lamu for some workshops and a performance sharing. More on that later... 

Chic in Shela

FROM PHILIP HIMBERG:

Last night, Sundance hosted a kind of thank you and farewell dinner for our Creative Advisors. Just after sunset, Christopher, Roberta, Deborah and I boarded the boat along with George Seremba and Liesl Tommy, for the Peponi Hotel. Also with us were Suhaila Cross and her daughter, Jasmine. Suhaila was truly the reason we were on this Island to begin with. She worked with KWANI TRUST, a Kenyan publishing house and had told us about Lamu a few years back. The Peponi Hotel is one of the more famous landmarks on Shela Beach, a rather upscale restaurant and Inn, frequented by European Tourists and others. At the Hotel Bar, we arranged to meet with Kevin Mwachiro, a reporter for the BBC in Nairobi who made a trip here to meet our participants and learn more about Sundance.

Dinner was outdoors near the pool under a FULL MOON! Quite the scene. And after the more humble (though delicious) food we had been served at Diamond Beach, this was our upscale splurge. The conversation was lively as we learned more from Kevin about the theatre scene and journalism in Kenya, and caught up on many of our thoughts as we near the end of this adventure. A light rain sent us scurrying inside for desserts and Kahawa (Coffee), and nothing quite topped the full moon ride back to Manda over rolling sea waters, filled with speechlessness for a part of the world so rarely visited by Americans.

Today was our formal “feedback day” for all the projects. We structured it quite differently from our usual conversations because these African artists very much want the entire community of lab participants to be present. So, we divided feedback into two sessions, In the morning, everyone gathered as one group, and Roberta lead a session in encouraging constructive comments . . .

“Adult education is a wonderful thing,” asserted Woody Alan, famously in ANNIE HALL. And so it is. My own education over the last two days, (not to mention the last almost three weeks) astounds me. The level of discourse in our room not only about people’s responses to the work (“What did you find compelling, surprising, satisfying?” “Where did you lose interest or drop out?”), but to the bigger conversations that were bursting to happen. What is theatre in East Africa? What defines an East African play? Who is our audience? Do we lead our audience? What is our language – both literally and physically? Often, I just observed as the volleyball of ideas went back and forth and in and among our five different nationalities represented (not counting American). There was no doubt that this opportunity to debate and to vent even, was a rare one. Sundance, in part, had made this possible, and we had to literally ask to defer some of the conversation to Wednesday when we have more time to de-brief.

In the afternoon we held more intimate conversations with each team, trying to ascertain where they felt they were in their work, and at times, pushing the envelope on encouraging their future explorations and experimenting. Honestly, this part of the process can fry one’s brain – working hard to stay on course, really hearing what the artist needs and where they feel they are at in their movement forward. Everyone of course is at a very different place, and ‘next steps’ are of much concern. “What will Sundance able to provide, if we are able to provide anything?” is a question that rings in our ears. We’ve opened up these folks to a way of working and paid close attention to their creative impulses. What now?

Rest

Today is a day off – well-earned.