Meaza, Yohannes, Eshatu and Kenasa – Egeon wants to know where he is
Last night at about 7.30, I had just eaten my dinner and was listening to the BBC –what a difference the internet has made for the traveller – there was a knock on the door. I almost never get visitors, and never at night, but when I opened the door, there was Anchu my landlady, apologising for the intrusion, accompanied by three large gentlemen in suits. She had mentioned the possibility of showing someone else the apartment, so I assumed this was who it was, despite the hour. I invited them in, but they remained resolutely just outside on the landing.
“I want your passport,” said the man at the front, and I realised that, rather than prospective future tenants, they were government security of some kind or other. I suppose I could have asked for ID, but it was probably wiser not. Right, I replied, and disappeared to fetch it. By the time I returned, their numbers had swelled to five, including lady officer, and a man with a rifle. I handed it over, and the man gave it a perusal… as usual with such officials, cover to cover.
“Where do you come from?” he asked (though I would have thought that was fairly clear.)
“England. You kay.”
“What is your job?”
“I am a teacher.”
This puzzled him. “Where is your school?”
“I am retired now.”
Presumably satisfied that I posed no threat, there were smiles, sorrys, no troubles, goodbyes. Quite fun, really, though no photograph to record the encounter, for fairly obvious reasons.
And then today’s rehearsal. I thought for a while that it was going to be a washout, as I had arrived at my usual early time, and had seen almost none of the cast. It was only when I eventually made my way to the classroom that I discovered virtually all of them there; they had turned up early, in order to get some rehearsal in on their own. Arm-up seemed mildly redundant, but we did one anyway, mostly because it is fun and they enjoy it. We shook and stretched, we sang a song, we played a game, and then we got down to work.
We needed to block out the opening scene, and then the section which leads to the flashback of a shipwreck: all of it difficult and technical – come here, go there, do this, do that sort of stuff. But they were great – attentive and disciplined, and at the end of the rehearsal we ran the first ten minutes of the play. No books, some real acting. With about two weeks to go, it was hugely encouraging.
