Journal of our trip to Zimbabwe

Link to our Road Movie

This journal was originally meant to reassure my family during the trip, but I ended up adding many more addresses - then compiled it all to share with everyone.

April 24th, 2009: We're off to Zimbabwe!

Tonight, at the airport, Radio Canada will be there! Une heure sur terre - a great TV program, will be filming our departure. Of course, this will be a bit strange because I will be wheelchair bound! I hate to play the role, but I have to, since we couldn't afford to send the set by cargo.

Airport antics... reminds me of when I donned 30 t-shirts to avoid extra baggage fees when we went to Edinburgh.

But this time it's Africa... and I'm so excited! It will be a long trip, so I'm bringing a good book... I'm off to Zimbabwe with Dinner with Mugabe under my arm (and no - I wont get arrested for this).

Adrienne Arsenault, fearless foreign correspondent for CBC news, and Sophie Langlois for Radio Canada will be there to cover the event!

So - with my huge tap shoes in tow, I face my African adventure with confidence!

Wish me well,

Du

April 26th - We've arrived in Zimbabwe!

In the plane, I caught up on movie watching... after viewing a few serious films and still unable to sleep, I watched 'Madagascar' - African animals with New York accents doing silly things. The sun came up, and glancing out the window I was STUNNED - there was the Savannah in all its glory. Africa - the real thing.

What strikes me the most about Zimbabweans is their sense of humor - they are all constantly joking, and the favorite theme is the mess Zimbabwe is in. It takes about 5 minutes with a Zimbabwean to feel as though you've known them for years.

The sound checks at the outdoor festival site provide a pervasive chorus of sweet singing, and in spite of the challenges of setting up the show with only a third of the set, in a place where any material is extremely difficult to find, all is going very well indeed. Only possible because of the will to make it happen and the collaboration of a lot of hard-working people... I just hope we brought enough t-shirts!

The most frustrating thing here is communications: email is more often down than up and running, and phone calls from the hotel - fuggedabadit. Then there's the 'challenge' (as they often say here) of making change when you pay for things. You have to buy more, until there is no change necessary.

The most disturbing thing here is that farmers are still being violently thrown out and looted. Rich farmlands are overgrown and abandoned, and food must be imported.

I will teach in Chitungwiza tomorrow... my next message might not be quite so Pollyanna...

Du

May 1st - News from Zimbabwe

There may be food on the shelves now in the markets here, but the prices are WAY too expensive for the average Zimbabwean. A pizza costs $4 US - a quart of juice is $3... I gave a very hungry boy a dollar, and then realized that he couldn't buy more than a doughnut or two with that. And no one has change, so if something costs $2.75, they give you two pieces of bubble gum in change. If the change is more substantial, you just have buy more than you need.

I taught at Chitungwiza, a suburb of Harare where the people are extremely poor. My students, 50 teenagers crowded into a dusty room, were very shy for the most part, but some of them were incredibly talented: self-taught break-dancers and 6 part harmony singers - amazing! Especially the passion and joy that they expressed... there was nothing depressing about these people - except their surroundings.

Later,

May 5th - We're leaving Zimbabwe

Too soon!

I haven't been able to write since we began our performances - which went extremely well! Even the third show, when the plastic curtain rails that they provided for us here gave out, and the curtain (very visibly) went on the blink. As much as I HATE to improvise, I did - and quite famously if I do say so myself: as Victoria served the tea, and ran out (as always, since she only has 4 cups) she told the audience to go out and get some in the lobby while the curtain got fixed.

Getting the audience back into the show was more of a challenge! She poked her head out of the front curtains, declaring: 'oh - there you are! I've been looking all over for you! I fixed the curtains... did it myself. If you want something done right...' and the audience finished the proverb! She then continued as usual, climbing up her wheelchair to wash her windows. Didn't lose a beat!

The Zimbabwean audience is in first place with the Mexicans for best in the world!

We had the last day of the festival off and got to see other performances. I saw a wonderful play called Allegations, about the farm invasions here in Zimbabwe, which was acutely touching. I also saw Two Gentlemen of Verona performed by two (brilliant) Zimbabwean actors who really nailed Shakespeare. Even though most of the paying spectators were white (the even poorer folk standing on the sides) the humor was all African - and everyone laughed at the Shona (indigenous language) jokes except me. The white folks follow the black culture as much - if not more than - the black folks have adopted white culture.

I walked out of a French dance performance... t'wasn't good.

I enjoyed hugs, praises and even some tears (the enjoyable kind) from people I ran into during the day. Everyone here calls me Victoria. I don't mind.

I had long conversations with various individuals, about Zimbabwe's predicament... the pertinence of the festival... the past, the future... How to report on the many nuances of these discussions? I think I need to digest all this before I draw conclusions.

We met wonderful people who organized our official day off: a trip to a park with African animals, an outdoor market... now, every morning when I open the curtains, the African sun bursts into the room. This morning, I said (out loud) 'and now for the wonderful African... RAIN?!'

Yes, torrents.

We had a wonderful day anyway, piled into Sue's pick-up, visiting her house, filming her (partly wild) cat (which film I will submit to National Geographic) and shopping at some indoor craft shops. By the end of the day we were able to shop at the outdoor market, where we made a substantial contribution to the economy (though not nearly as substantial as the vendors would have liked).

I gave cash gifts to 3 key people, who I trust will spend it wisely, and share it with others within the artistic community who desperately need help. There were tears all round (the enjoyable kind).

May 7th - Home, at the crack of dawn

We learned yesterday that the Conseil des arts et des lettres du Québec refused us funding for this project - for the third time - and this, after receiving an injection of $3 million to compensate the federal cuts to funding international touring. Shocking, to say the least.

Especially now that I know, first hand, that this project was SO worth the investment!

People of all colors (black, white and 'colored', which is how Zimbabweans refer to mixed races) were inspired by Victoria... even those who didn't see it - working 24/7 organizing the artists, driving us around, helping us with this and that...proudly wearing our t-shirts and always smiling ear to ear - because it was so exciting for them to be part of the biggest festival in Africa. They met artists from all over the world; saw how we tick on tour - how much we depend on them and consider them precious colleagues in the challenge of making the festival a success.

We met white people who live without running water... I gave $50 to a sixty something artist (who drove us around Harare, waiting while we bought local crafts) and who collects horse urine (can't remember what for) to earn money. Now she can buy paint for the set she's creating. I wish I could have given her more.

We met whites of an older generation, tearfully nostalgic for the good old days of Rodesia. We met younger ones who've come around to recognizing that the HIFA (the festival) is definitely a good thing for Zimbabweans, and not just a freebee for a corrupt government. There are more and more shows presented by locals, expressing previously taboo subject matter - creating dialogue, many tears... some reconciliation, and above all, hope.

We met talented kids in the poor suburb of Chitungwiza - self-taught dancers, musicians and singers - who have a huge festival 30 minutes away that they can strive towards.

We met black Zimbabweans who use art to save their country (and even their continent) like the man who teaches theatre to 'artists in custody' (prison) or the poet who travels around the world, interpreting African poetry for the west, and giving his point of view on the crises in Sudan, the Congo... the aids problem, among other things. He was ever so impressed with my 'depth', and when he got drunk at the final fireworks, I found out just how intense African men can be with women!

We met a German woman (working in humanitarian aide) who was kidnapped and beaten... and returned to Germany, only to go back to Zimbabwe a few months later... loves the place that much.

We met African women in directorial positions, or holding their own among the technical teams. I gave $300 to the technical director of the theatre where we performed: a white woman, as Zimbabwean as one can be, who nurtures the local community in every way she can - an amazing example of the human race. She cried when I gave her the money, and when I told her I hoped she'd share it wisely, she told me it would be with a group she's involved with who help handicapped kids.

Incidentally, I gave away money that I don't really have. For those who would like to donate to the project - it's not too late to make our red a little blacker. Donations can be made by clicking on the link at the bottom of this page.

I am so happy to have achieved this project; I got to share Victoria, of course, but I also got to meet fascinating people, I got to help Zimbabweans, not just morally but materially as well. And I got to share all this with national Canadian journalists.

I would like to thank personally and in the name of my company, all the persons who helped us one way or the other with this project:

Thus I end this email journal, a tired but happy artist.

Dulcinea

PS - A little (subjective) history:

We learned that Zimbabwe was a paradise - had everything one could want: perfect climate, natural resources and rich soil... the English made themselves very comfortable here, and created opportunity for all - but racism was a given. Black Zimbabweans were separated from whites and seen as inferior. Mugabe was indeed a great liberator (a rival of Mandela), and from 1980 - 85, life was beautifully promising. But he went too fast with drastic change (land redistribution), and he didn't have the emotional stability to endure the task he took on; he opened a Pandora box and lost control - hence his tragic attempts to maintain power. This is my simplified, but I think not simplistic, take on a complex situation.

I can't help thinking: thank heavens Obama had a loving family and was born recently enough to have avoided total humiliation. Ok - enough of that comparison!

A very optimistic Zimbabwean told me with pride: "We are the only country in the world with NO DEBT. When you've touched the bottom, the only way to go is up!"

Africa is (in my view) changing for the better... slowly (as racism truly becomes a thing of the past) and it is Africans who are changing it - perhaps thanks to, or maybe in spite of western 'aide'.

A festival is an excellent agent for change. A corrupt government cannot keep people from benefitting from the motivating excitement the festival creates. The festival is an African event all their own. We foreigners are their guests, their 'entertainment'. As an artist, an individual... a Canadian, I cannot fix a corrupt government or feed a hungry population - I can't fix what is wrong. But I CAN contribute to what is right; I can build on a good thing. The more the festival grows, the more autonomous it will become, until the local population really gains ground.

Click her to find out more about the Harare International Festival of the Arts.