Practical drama work in South Africa follows the same pattern as in England, pretty much a 50/50 split between scripted and improvised/devised work.  The video shows an example of the former, an extract from one of the Grade ten set works: Antigone by Sophocles.

You might have thought that Greek theatre was about as far removed from black African experience as you could get, but Camo makes Creon’s speech into something modern and relevant. To my mind, quite extraordinary.

I don’t think the learners here find the memorising of lines any easier than their English counterparts do, but they put the work in, and that gives them the freedom to act, not read.  As you can see.

Not having experienced boarding school life in my youth, our stay at DCS has been an interesting insight into institutional life. One of the experiences is food – boarding house food – which by repute can be dire.

So when we arrived at DCS we were pleasantly surprised at how decent the meals here are. The cooks do a fantastic job to with what, I assume, is a very limited budget. Admittedly, breakfast is probably enhanced by my having been up for nearly two hours, including fitness workout, but it is nonetheless always tasty.

There have been some logistical problems: at the beginning of term a shortage of cutlery meant you had to get there early, or you’d end up eating with plastic knives and forks. And at weekends, meals seem to happen at random times – we resorted to staking out the dining room in the morning so as not to miss breakfast.

Dinner was initially something to look forward to, South African options include chakalaka and pap (I have acquired a taste for both), but they also do a very good suet pudding and stew. However, as time goes by, the repetitive nature of the food has got to us, so increasingly we look for ways to escape.

It occurs to me that one area of school life that I have not covered at all in this blog is the one that, since Viloshni went into hospital, takes up the majority of my time, i.e. lessons.  So, to begin with: warming-up.

It will not surprise any of you who have had any experience of me as a teacher that I have lost no time at all in introducing my absolute favourite warm-up activity: the game of zip, zap, boing. For the uninitiated, it is a fast and furious game requiring energy, commitment and lightning-fast reactions.  Its purpose is to instil energy into the listless; basically, waking people up. (There is a version which seeks to pretend that what is being passed around the circle is a ball of energy, but I think that is pretentious nonsense; my belief is that the major motivation is competitive, i.e. not getting out.)

What has come as a big surprise to me is the enthusiasm that has infected both the classes I teach that are big enough to play it.  I have never come across classes who have taken to it with such a spirit, and I have taught it to lots and lots of people (actually, quite a lot of you out there.)

After church, it was a lovely day and I decided to pop down the road one block to take a picture of the mosque on the opposite corner. No sooner had I snapped my photo than I realised one of the DCS security chaps was in hot pursuit, telling me in no uncertain terms that I should not be wandering down the road, camera in hand, outside the school gates. Just by coincidence (I think), a police car pulled up too and made some disapproving remarks to my minder. Sorry, I didn’t mean to cause any trouble!

Of a Friday evening when we draw up to the security gates in our Uber (actually, we’ve recently changed allegiance to Taxify), the driver waits with headlights full on to make sure Prosper, our night security guard has everything in hand before reversing away. Taxi drivers seem to be quite vulnerable themselves, on several occasions recounting stories of their livelihood being threatened after a phone or car-jacking.

It’s hard to tell whether the crime and violence is overblown here, or is in fact the reality of the place.  So far, apart from occasional distant gun shots we hear at night-time, we haven’t experienced anything unpleasant first hand – let’s hope we keep it that way.

We’ve mentioned before that the lawn right outside our window is frequently used as a rehearsal space, chiefly by the choir.  The downside is that it is used even more regularly as an inpromptu football pitch, every night after dinner, and as such it is far louder than the choir.  Not exactly two jumpers for goalposts, as the goals are a single dustbin at each end, which does make for an interesting variety of tactics.

Football is also played every break in the playground by the learners, as well as, just down the road on a scrappy piece of wasteland, local youngsters.  In both venues the players exhibit a good deal of skill, and here (and no doubt there) many have the ambition of playing professionally; the chances are, of course, virtually zero.

Naturally, with the globalisation of the beautiful game, most people here have two teams: one South African, one Manchester United.  I regularly try to suggest that there are alternatives, and have many conversations about the merits of other teams… well, one other team.  I also possess a Kaiser Chiefs shirt, which provokes much excitement, but just a hint of disappointment when I confess that my interest is more in the rock band of that name than the team.