Tuesday October 6 - Politics & Song

Someone will tell me later, in Kigali, that in Africa the days are not 24 hours long.
They are sometimes 36, sometimes 48, but most often they are 72 hours long.
It feels like it now - we are packing so much into every day.

When not acting in the show, we are planning events, planning filming, or filming.  Gord & I are dividing our energies - Logistics are mine, Directing are his & John's.  We try to meet in the middle when things happen. 

We are so fortunate to have Jeannie Calleja with us as Production Assistant.  She handles release forms & logging/notating footage & interviews wherever the crew goes.  She is tireless and so generous with the time we seem to need from her. Release forms in three different languages.  & she always, always, always has a pen when you need one.

Blogging has been difficult - the internet connection is sporadic or slow, and our energies are focussed on getting a good film in the can when we are not being actors in the play.  Access is what we need, and access means planning and permissions and attendance at anything which is happening.  Permissions can take two days, talking to the right people, taking them for a beer afterwards for their time. 

I have spent some time with the head of security at the National University, a wonderful man named Steve Hsinga, & with him I have seen the inside of a local police station, the courthouse, the security offices for the University.  Walking or taking motorcycle taxis in the red dust of Butare's streets.

Laurette helps us find drivers and vehicles, and she & I slowly tick items necessary for the next few days of filming off our list.  We are already planning for Kigali.  Laurette is Volcano's fixer, and we are hiring her when she is not working for Volcano with great thanks to the Theatre company for sharing this resource.  It is esssential to have a fixer in Rwanda. It is essential to have a cell phone and to program in the numbers of as many taxi drivers in town as possible once you arrive. I'm so grateful to this capable young woman - she quietly goes about doing a good job with little fanfare.  She has become a vital part of this theatre family in only a few (long) days.

There is a meeting with the rector of the University, Silas Lwakabamba.  The documentary crew settles in the corner of the conference room to capture the speeches and subtle politicking.  We are invited here so that he might thank us for our presence at the Festival; this meeting is key for the Festival organizers.  Ross speaks eloquently about the interest in this festival in Canada, in National newspapers & on National radio.  We learn that the University was built by Canadians; Rick Banville notes that the equipment in the theatre was from Calgary, a mystery now made clear.  There is hope that this meeting will help keep the Arts Azimuts Festival on the University's agenda for future years.  The rector is gracious and articulate. 

Running producer errands with Laurette, we are caught in an afternoon rainstorm.  Since it is the milder of the two rainy seasons, everyone waits inside for the storm to abide.  Were it the March rainy season, Laurette tells me, it would be raining like this (torrentially) all day with no respite.  No one would be waiting inside for it to abate.  They would simply dress for it, and carry on.  "Like Canadians in winter", I think.

We see a full rainbow on the horizon when we leave the protection of the shop to continue on our way.

This afternoon, the cast attends church choir practice with the film crew.
It is yet again, another profound experience for our group.
Collective song. 
A carrying or sustenance of the soul through music, as in our play, Goodness.


This evening, we attend a performance at the Festival, Colleen Wagner's "The Monument".  The Artistic Director of a new Canadian-Rwandan company, Isoko, Jen Capraru has had this play translated into Kinyarwanda and has toured the production through this country.  It is a simple staging, in the round, with wonderful actors, and I find it compelling even though I do not understand the language. 

The audience is packed with Rwandans who lean forward in their seats, laugh, rub their eyes, and seem totally engaged. We are standing - there are many Rwandans standing with us just to see this play.  An inspiring evening at the theatre, again with a language barrier. 

It is interesting, for a change, to be the minority with the language barrier.  Striving to understand a piece of theatre without language, something which others around us understand totally.  It seems fair, a balancing. 

I see that there are audiences here hungry for theatre.  I feel a deep wish/hope that this Festival can continue here next year.


Post by Tara