At least for the time being, I have decided to frame the blog as a daily diary. I do have some concerns about this, as it might become rambling and unfocused, but will, at least for the time being, give a clearer view of my life here.
After a troubled night in my hotel room, on perhaps the hardest mattress I have ever slept on – good for my back, no doubt – I was collected by Eva, the crazy but rather wonderful volunteer from Spain, and taken to the Bread Box, a bakery and café just a stone’s throw away, owned by the college. The place was terrific, modern and cool, with excellent air-con, and did indeed provide the excellent breakfast I had been promised – buttered toast and an excellent cappuccino.
I arrived at school as agreed at about 11, but could find no-one I knew in the staffroom, or Mr Yogi in his office. But a WhatsApp message soon directed me once again to the Seminar Room. Only since yesterday, it had been transformed; instead of ordered rows the chairs had been pushed back to create a space for a party, and loud Nepalese pop was not concealing squeals of excitement. I entered to huge cheers, but it was soon apparent that they were in the mood to cheer almost anything. It was a graduation celebration for their Year 12 students, and they were in a most excited mood.
I joined in with the series of group photos that they were about to take – I was not allowed to do anything else – for cake, and even found myself pressed into joining in the dances that were springing up, taking me right back to those days of supervising school discos.
I had been asked to start working with classes of students, and my first one was scheduled for this morning. It took place in a massively cramped classroom, around 30 boys and 4 girls aged about 16 behind tiny desks, with virtually no space at the front (as I had sort of hoped) to move into. Nonetheless, I was there to introduce them to Drama, and so far as I was concerned that meant practical work. I did first introduce myself, told them a little about the work I had done before, but then it was time to start.
I used a familiar intro, starting with mime, and the usual things – a ball, a glass. For the most part this was done from their chairs – there really was very little option – but when I tried to move on to the next stage, of performing, even in a small and casual way, that I ran into trouble. At first, all was well. I was able to coax three or four people to step forward. And then someone refused.
I had sort of known this was coming, and blamed myself for not thinking it through properly. Because I knew as soon as one said no, the others would too. And though I tried some gentle persuasion, it was a hopeless case. But I did still have five minutes or so to fill, so I performed for them, an old mime I have used before. And I think this won them over. Not that the lesson had been a disaster. There had been a lot of laughter – always a plus – while never losing control of the situation, and they do genuinely seem to have listened, to have taken things in, to have learnt.
Took some time to head into town with a senior student to buy a local sim card, which was actually relatively simple, the only difficulty arriving when the guy needed to scan my thumbprint… using, of course, his phone. I had trouble keeping my thumb completely still, and the phone had great difficulty registering my whorls and loops, even when my thumb had been inked. But at last it was done. Now I have to work out how to get my new number to all those people who still have my old one.
Rather to my surprise, in the afternoon I was sent into the classroom once again; apparently a teacher was sick, so I was the cover teacher. But of course had licence to try the lesson out again. Almost identical, in fact. A slightly higher level class, I was told, but otherwise almost the same, even down to the girls at the front (3 this time.) Much the same lesson, but slightly better interaction, and I was slightly more prepared for people refusing to perform. And did not need to fill the time with anything. Up to a point, a success – they were certainly very enthusiastic in their response at the end of the lesson.
This took me straight to the rehearsal with the group off to the festival in India. I was assured they were up for some changes, so we started to re-block it – actually, to block it for the first time. And used some techniques to convert it to a living piece of theatre – a tableau at the start, some use of people as statues… It was hot, and exhausting, and for one of the first times in my life I asked for some drinking water, but we made real progress. And before we ran out of time (and, to be honest, I had completely run out of energy) we had blocked four of the five pages.
In the evening, I was able to face a small dinner in the hotel. I have eaten very little since leaving England, and it is beginning to have an effect – I know I have to eat. And then to my room, my bolthole, to read, to write, to listen to the radio. It could be forty years ago.
