If you will be in NYC on any of these dates, please come to one or more of these events.  I’d love to see you.  And as always, please forward this to anyone who you think would be interested.

Don't walk ... run!

After this I am off to Kabul again in April to advance the arts, culture and civic engagement work I’ve be doing.  More to come on that!!

January 28-29, 2012
10:00 am  – 6:00 pm
Two-day workshop – Rainbow of Desire
As part of the Theater of the Oppressed Laboratory
Location: The Brecht Forum, NYC.

February 11, 2012
10:00 am – 6:00 pm
One day workshop – Introduction to Theater of the Oppressed
As part of the Theater of the Oppressed Laboratory
Location: The Brecht Forum, NYC.

February 29, 2012
7:30 pm
Special Forum on Global Women’s Empowerment
As Part of the Women on Wednesdays Art and Culture Project
Moderator: Shani Jamila; Performance by Imani Uzuri
Panelists: Paloma McGregor, Aimee Cox, Imani Uzuri, Kayhan Irani, Anusha Mehar, Dayanara Marte
Location: The Brecht Forum, NYC.

March 30th, 2012
7:30 pm
Talk and Discussion – A Report-Back on Theater and Solidarity in Afghanistan
A discussion about my work with Afghan Education Projects. How can artists build a consciousness of solidarity in a war zone? Can movement building happen within an occupied space?
Location: The Brecht Forum, NYC.

photo: joseph vernagallo

That it happens now, just before a cold, dark winter, is a reminder that light and beauty are with us even when things look bleak.

What’s especially hopeful is that this year we’ve seen this metaphor embodied in action.  People all over the world are wiping away the fog that has blurred their vision and that has sapped our energy.  We are rededicating ourselves to making things right and working together.  And this makes me most hopeful about where we are going in 2012!

Thank you everyone for your burning passion and fearlessness in all you do.  I am honored to have such friends, supporters and colleagues.  This coming year I plan to be back in Afghanistan doing bigger creative projects, and look for some collaborations with Iran and Pakistan as well!! I am working with artists and culture workers to lead trainings and skills sharing meetings on how art and culture can be used to forward social change and movement building. I may also find myself in India and, of course, I’ll be facilitating workshops at the Theater of the Oppressed Laboratory, in New York, whenever I can.  Do drop me a line and let me know what you are up to.

One bright moment: I asked the theater group from Kunduz, Afghanistan why they work in theater and performance.  The answer, “Because in the theater you can show something else, another way.  You can make people feel.”  A university student from Kabul said, “I just want to be free … really, really free.”

With love and light,
Kayhan

Nouria, Zabi’s dear aunt and my new friend, slept over the guest house the night before I was to leave Kabul.  We stayed up together, sitting by the fire and talking – well, she did most of the talking I did what I could to try and keep up with her.

At one point she started talking about how hard things were when the Taliban was in power – especially for women.  She then asked if I wanted to see her burka.  Though he doesn’t have to wear it, she still does. She didn’t call it a burka, she calls it her chador which is a general term for a long, draped covering.

But when she walked back into the room with the signature sky blue fabric with its perfect accordion pleats and gorgeous embroidery, there was no question of what she was referring to.

She put it on and wanted me to take her photo in it. 

As I took a couple of photos, something came over Nouria.  A spirited laugh started up and she began to direct a sort of photo shoot of myself and herself in the burka.

She had me take her photo as she was sitting down, standing up, cycling on the exercise bike!

She dressed me in it.

She called in Nassim, she made him pose with me.

Then she moved me into the kitchen where she shot a series of me doing household chores!

Throughout the shoot she was laughing hysterically and getting more and more bold.  we were both rolling with tears of laughter.  It was a funny, wonderful play session and clearly there was something therapeutic for Nouria.  Being able to be the center of attention and to be in charge is something that women don’t often get to do in the public sphere.  Calling the shots – when, where and how – is limited.  So here she was directing me the foreigner and even Nassim.  She was using one of the symbols of women’s oppression as the frame for her to be able to take control.  An item which helps her disappear, fade away, is now part of her emergence, part of her experiment in telling others what to do.

I was happy to follow her lead and let her find her own way.   If she needed the burka in order to figure things out, then I was fine with that.  It made me think of development efforts and cross-cultural solidarity efforts.  It’s more important to support people as they figure things out for themselves than it is to make yourself comfortable and draw the map and the key and all possible roads.

People know how to work towards liberation – even if it sometimes it means holding on to the thing that represents their oppression. If only we all can trust in and build relationships based on the notion that all people are good, smart, and capable.  How much stronger would all our efforts to end injustice be?

I look forward to being home again and writing my report on my training.

I’ve learned so many important lessons and I look forward to putting them down.  For now, I’ll be enjoying the holidays (and my birthday) back home in NYC.  More later. ….

Rice pudding dotted with crushed cardamom

For all, it is a day to mourn, to reflect, to gather with close family and friends and to re-dedicate one’s self to overcoming oppression and moving towards justice.  We have the day off and I am home reading and resting.  In Afghanistan, people make Sheer-E-Berenj (milky rice) or rice pudding and distribute it to neighbors and friends and family.  Today Nassim, one of the guest house cooks and caretakers, made some rice pudding for us.

Nassim with fresh Sheer-E-Berenj

Nassim was kind enough to include us and it was lovely to join the observances in a little way.   Serena, who is staying at the guest home with me, enjoyed the warm pudding too and as we ate it up happily we spoke about taking a walk later in the day.  It’s a sunny, mild day and it’s always nice to spend a little time wandering our neighborhood.  Happy with the sweet sheer-E-berenj in our tummies, we went off to our own rooms again.

Then Serena got the text.  A bomb exploded in a crowded Shi’ia Mosque in Kabul.  20 people were confirmed dead and the toll was expected to rise.  I was sick.  I texted all the friends and contacts I had in Kabul to make sure people were okay.  I was especially worried about my Shi’ia friends and their families.  Were some of them observing the day at this mosque?  Suddenly I wished I had not eaten the rice pudding, it was turning and churning in my stomach as I waited for responses.

One by one they came in.  People were fine, unharmed, some were worried about their co-religionists.  Most everyone asked how I was and wanted to make sure I was okay.  I was overcome with emotion.  Why?  Why? Why?  What purpose?  What use?  What rationale?  There is much complexity to answer why and what rationale – from the individual who carried out the suicide attack to those who helped, planned, and who justify it.  But at the core is the age old divide and conquer strategy.  As long as multiple schisms, breaks, and barriers are present between humans – justice for all will never come.  Those who benefit from injustice have a vested interest in keeping people at each others’ throats.  Religion, nationality, race, gender, age, etc. are all convenient distractions that engage us in fighting each other instead of the larger forces that keep us in chains.

Connection.

May we reflect today, as those who are observing Ashura, on the chains that bind us.  Let us see what we need to let go of, unravel, and heave off. Right now it feels hard, but I am grateful to be here with the theater team from Kunduz.  I am honored to work with people dedicated to overcoming oppression through non-violence, through art, and through community building.  While it seems small, I know it is the only way forward.  I hope we can all see the destruction that injustice and oppression has wrought on our world, mourn the pain, and then go out and offer sweetness and closeness to our neighbors.

My time in Kabul is coming to a close.  Our final performances are Thursday and then I return home soon after.  I am thankful that I have closeness and community here and for the openness and generosity shown to me.  It’s a bittersweet place to be.

I always dream of walking up the narrow streets and steep stairways that lead up to the tiny homes that crowd the hills rising up throughout Kabul city.

When I was here last month I spoke about how Kabul reminds me of Rio – one reason being these informal developments constructed by mostly poor workers who don’t have the money to buy real estate in the city proper.  In Rio they are favelas, but I haven’t found a name for them here in Kabul.  They are just the homes in the mountains.

Homes dotting the hills.

Well, this weekend I had my chance to climb the stairway up into the mountain homes and visit a local neighborhood.  The caretaker and chef of the BBC guest house – Zabi – lives in one of these homes and on Friday, Jumm’e, I payed a visit to his family.

We started at the bottom of the stairs where we met some local children lugging water up to their homes. Since these are technically illegal developments, there is no infrastructure for plumbing, sewage, and electricity.  Families must carry water to their homes.  And, like in most working class neighborhoods, the children greet you first and want to know all your business.

The welcome-who-are-you wagon.

The little girl hiding behind the first girl in this photo promptly ran up the stairs and shouted over the wall to her father that some people got out of a car and are coming up the stairs!  As we walked up, Nouria, Zabi’s aunt told the children I was a guest from Iran!  That seemed to make them happy as they followed closely behind us.

Families live very close together and on top of each other.  Homes are carved into and on to the rock of the mountain.  The views are lovely and the down home, neighborhood feeling is charming, and though their lives are very tough, everyone is generous, kind, and welcoming.

A view from Zabi's porch. Neighbors are close and the mountains loom large.

Being a woman, I was invited into many homes and got to meet all the women of the family.  I saw women cooking bread, washing clothes, caring for babies, cleaning the house, etc.

This sister was giving me grand diva Pieta flava and I loved it.

All of the homes were immaculate, simple, warm, and cozy.  I was amazed at how comfortable and clean everything was.  I know these women work hard – you could see it on their faces and hear it in their talk.

Big sister Jamila with baby Marwa

Regal Zamira

I met Zabi’s wife Zamira and his 4 lovely, lively daughters Jamila (7), Sowmia (4.5), Basia (1.5), and Marwa (2 mos).  We took photos, talked, laughed, teased Zabi, and then took a little walk around the neighborhood.

Close up of Basia

Zabi, aunt Nouria and all the girls

Sweet Sowmia

During my walk around the neighborhood, I met their friends and relatives – distant and close.  Almost everyone asked me to come inside for tea but aunt Nouria only took a few people up on the offer.  I guess she knew who would take offense or who was a close family member.  Zabi’s cousin ran the local corner store which was a lean-to with a tin roof.  As anywhere, all the young men and boys hung around the store!

Da boyz.

We then met a very special resident – a 100 year old man!  Life expectancy in Afghanistan is in the 50s so this is a very special honor.  He was full of life and was sharp and engaged.

He also invited me in for tea.

Zabi says that he still regularly walks up and down the stairs to go to town and do things.

Finally, the day came to an end.  I was so honored to be able to share this small bit of time with Zabi, his family and neighbors.  It reminded me again of the goodness of all people and the strength of the spirit to make beauty and share love wherever it can.

Basia on the edge

My little troupe

Bye-Bye Zamira

Going back down.

No, wait ... Marya don't pose. Stay as you were ... Oh well.

For now, it’s wonderful to be back in Kabul and especially wonderful to be back at the BBC-AEPand focusing on Theater of the Oppressed.  It is my specialty and my passion and I love how the process builds closeness, community and solidarity.  Speaking of community – let’s meet the new group from Kunduz.  Akmal, Bashir, Bilkis, Hadissa, Fereydoon, and Marya.  Only 6 people means that we get to do more, discuss more and really understand each other.

It is different working with a small group and I am learning so much from being with them.  For one, they are teaching me to slow down.  Their easy way and unaffected intimacy put me at ease and I don’t mind that we now take two tea breaks in the morning, not one!

Tea time ... again!

We talk, make jokes, tell stories, and connect.

Kunduz is a province in the North of Afghanistan sharing a long northern border with Tajikistan.  I asked them to tell me about Kunduz and they said people call Kunduz a little Afghanistan because so many different ethnic groups live in the province, in relative harmony (Tajik, Pashto, Hazara, Uzbek, Baluch, etc.).  Akmal told me that his mother is Uzbek, his father is Pashto, he has a Tajik brother-in-law.  Kunduz is in a valley so it’s relatively flat compared to Kabul which is nestled in the mountains.  (A young woman from Kunduz who now lives in Kabul – but who isn’t in this group – said people started calling Kunduz the “little Kandahar” because of the rise in conservatism and Taliban fighting.)

Creating a story based on the Forum Theater structure.

Fereydoon said that there is still lots of conservatism and fundamentalism, and you can see it rise with increasing unemployment and poverty.  But much of the fighting has stopped since NATO and Pakistani forces have stopped using certain roads through Kunduz.  Just as the people’s ethnic identities vary, so do their political beliefs.  And it’s all within close quarters.  Bashir told a story of brothers who are on opposite ends of the political spectrum; one is secular and the other is part of the Taliban.  Talk about tense dinnertime conversation!

Everyone busy at play.

Our group is already working on two stories, one of male domination and one of students’ oppression at the hands of teachers.  Both are huge issue.  Teachers have total domination and authority to abuse verbally, physically, and mentally – just as husbands do.

Setting the scene - a classroom exam.

Analysis of Students' Oppression in the Classroom

The group created an excellent problem tree which detailed the larger social, political and cultural forces that allow for authoritarianism and unfairness in the classroom.  The everyday issues (seen as the leaves) were violence, verbal abuse, asking for gifts/bribes, lack of preparedness of teachers, discrimination and carelessness.  The trunk – which represent the larger social and cultural values and systems that hold up these everyday acts of oppression – were identified as teachers were unprepared, had bad information, low teacher salary, no teachers’ rights, government corruption, culture of giving total power to teachers, students are powerless, lack of oversight, improper curriculum and training, and distrust of one another.  Whew!

Then the roots were drawn.  the long term, deepest issues that affect all systems and levels of society.  The roots were corruption, continued neglect, foreign interference, poverty, tribal conflicts, war, and political factions.

Writing the Problem Tree

You can see how this process is really powerful.  From working on our own, personal stories we can connect so many interwoven threads.  It makes it obvious that any attempt for social change and problem solving needs to understand the ground it’s rooted in.  This reinforces the idea that in order to make change, we all need to work together because our futures are interdependent.  The following saying sums it up, from an Aboriginal women’s collective: “If you have come here to help me, then you are wasting your time.  But if you have come because your liberation is bound up with mine, then let us work together.”

After hearing this saying, Bilkis asks if we can rename the problem tree.  She tells the following story – a king has a bad dream and calls together his dream analyzers to help him read the dream’s message.  The first says that his whole family will die.  He banishes this interpreter.  The next, having been forewarned, tells the king that his dream means he will outlive most of his family.  He is thanked.  Bilkis says that there are different ways to say the same thing.  With her guidance, we renamed the problem tree – the forest of freedom.  Because once we clear the path out, we can follow it to liberation!

Bilkis freezes in an image.

Snow covered mountains.

OK it's more of a barrel, but the term pot-bellied evokes something that feels good. This feels good!

It’s easy to turn away from the ugliness on display right now – greed and desperation played out in bizarre scenarios.  I guess it’s not a surprise.  Our world situation has left the majority of people feeling desperate, isolated, rejected.  The politicians would have more pressure, more responsibility, more weight dropped down on the 99%.  But will love and cooperation ever become more popular responses than “getting mine”?  Somehow in the midst of the crush, we have to choose humanity.

I flew out of NY on Thanksgiving Day and within hours of landing in Kabul, I had a dozen moments where I stopped to appreciate all .  First, I met a friend in the airport parking lot.  He and his friends stopped to say hi and see if I needed any help.  In the anxious moments when arriving alone in a foreign country, seeing a familiar face and having someone offer their help is such a blessing.  About 30 minutes later, a friend from Herat called.  She was expecting me to arrive and was glad to catch me!  Another friend called later in the night.  I hadn’t told him the date I was coming but he saw my Facebook status and called to welcome me.  Simple human gestures of care and consideration made any feelings of loneliness fade away.  Imagine feeding anxiety with compassion; isolation with care for others?

Zabi in the garden.

Zabi, the cook and house manager, made me a simple and delicious meal of yellow lentils, potato with peas and carrots, and warm, fresh bread.  His friendly smile and caring disposition made me feel at home in seconds.  The warm stove, red embers, and hot shower also softened my longing for home.

Love, kindness, and appreciation is transmitted person to person, through small acts.  And those most valuable gifts cannot be bought, sold, or snatched away in a pepper spray haze.

The last flower left in the garden.

But we must face the ugly and desperate parts of ourselves.  We must understand that we have been made fearful and competitive by forces that want us to fight each other, rather than systemic oppression.  But friendship and trust can always be rebuilt – no matter how bizarre things have gotten.  What would our relationships look like if we chose a different route?  Our ability to be creative and imaginative will lead us towards healing.

It’s good to be back in Kabul, where aerial bombardment, land mines, suicide attacks, and yes, pepper spray have not yet numbed people’s ability to be human, to connect with one another.  You can’t hold on to love when you’re trying to grab an X-Box.  You have to put down the products and reach out a loving hand.

My guest house! Grateful for such a lovely home.

Somewhat related news … A three-year old border collie in Denver was voted the leader of the Occupy Denver. “Newly-elected leader Shelby will be leading this Satuday’s Occupy Denver march against Corporate Personhood and invites all other civic-minded dogs (and their leash-holders) to join.  If a corporation can be a person, so can a border collie!”  (It’s always funny to read how political commentators will rail against such declarations of creative resistance but the absurd oppressive practices are somehow completely rational.)

When I arrived, reds, yellows, browns and greens were still bright and shocking.  Now, many of the leaves have fallen – and the colors faded.  When I left New York in October Zucotti park had just been occupied and the movement, which seemed to appear from nowhere, bloomed and blazed.  In the two months between, something important has begun.

The creativity of the movement is inspiring; from colorful flags to humorous signs, to song, music, theater, and innovative protest forms.  People have decided to branch out and try something new.  That, in and of itself, is a huge blow to oppression, hopelessness, and cynicism. 

The decision to go towards creativity, to innovate, to believe – shows how important art and imagination are in moving others to act.  And it’s only just begun!

But there are risks.  Hundreds of arts and culture workers all around the world are violently assaulted for pursuing social change through their art forms: as community leaders and role models, they lose their jobs; face arbitrary imprisonment; and are sometimes killed for voicing dissent, asking questions.

With the international movements for justice gaining steam and getting louder, we know that many more artists will be targeted.

That is why I joined the board of FreeDimensional.  They are an organization that recognizes the transformative force of art and are dedicated to supporting creative resistance everywhere.  And for the first time ever, I am asking my friends and colleagues to financially contribute to something that I am a part of.

We are asking you to help us meet our fundraising goal of $9,000 by the end of 2011.

This past year saw the heightened repression of artists and culture workers in, among other places, the Middle East,  North Africa, China and Southeast Asia, and Central America, indicating the urgent need for a global support system for artists voicing concerns on behalf of entire communities.

Every little bit helps.  We have only just begun to heal the world and reshape our society.  Let’s make sure we continue with renewed passion and play!

My brother and I in qaraqol hats I brought back from Kabul. They are named for the sheep whose wool is used in the making.

I leave for Kabul this Thanksgiving Day for another wonderful Theater of the Oppressed training with the BBC.  I am thankful that there are people like you, all over the world, who know how important creativity is to a healthy society.

I’ll be updating the blog again with more photos and stories.  Stay tuned and PLEASE GIVE!

At the Hashemi home, the family and us guests play games before dinner.

I have learned a great deal by spending these 6 weeks in Kabul, listening to people, observing life, understanding daily struggles, seeing entrenched attitudes and thinking about all of this in light of how art and culture can be used to educate, build community, and inspire change.

Juggling scarves - easier than the real-life juggling acts managing work, family, cultural asumptions, and school.

Below are some photos of Kabul, people, things, places, memories.

Raisins, figs, nuts ... oh my. Everyone seems to have a tray of dried fruit and nuts in their office or home to offer guests. And, the requisite cup of tea! This is in Cote Sanghi near my apt and where many college students have rooms.

Kabul strangely reminds me of Rio - colorful homes in the hills, deeply musical (though private), a slide in the language, multicultural, and a general funkiness in the culture.

Lovely little homes. On the way to our performance in the women's prison.

On your wedding day, the bride will transform into a drag queen. This is the prevailing fashion and all beauty salons advertise the most extreme drag looks! Such cultural contradictions please me.

Speaking of contradictions, deciding how the group will continue when we leave became a sticking point. Students spoke about voting for the leaders and discussed the qualities of a good leader. But when tensions rose and the discussion got hard, things devolved into some people declaring that their professor should choose the leaders. That's what happened in the end. Let's see how they work with that choice.

A traditional dinner at a friend's home in a plush, carpeted, cushiony room. What a lovely way to share a meal.

From the inside of a bazaar stall, looking out to the street.

At the last women's show, we took glamor shots in the beautiful garden. These young women are so striking and so brilliant!

DIVAS!!!!

The youngest, but one of the smartest and most talented women in the group. She was also the writer of the script. On my last day she told me she gave her family the forms for applying to college. Her father said he doesn't want her going to university - he wants her home. I asked my dear sister what she was going to do and she raised her fist in the air and quoted the title of the play: "Rights cannot be given, they must be taken!" I love this child.

Goodbye sky, goodbye mountains, goodbye friends. ... for now.

7 heads in this shot and 6 more that you can't see! On the road we sing, laugh, and get carsick together!

So far we’ve performed at schools, orphanages, for the National Police force, a community center for widows and orphans, the Kabul women’s prison, and in the garden of a women’s rights organization.

We have trusty little van with our fearless driver Zabi who takes us where we need to go – props and costumes in tow.

An almost empty van heads home ... or to the soccer field!

Go Zabi, go!

We run in, perform, lead a discussion session, and then run back to the university to swap students and then off to another show!

The audiences love the shows and they are excited that they get to talk to the characters and speak about their issues. So far, in the women’s show, the most popular character to confront is the police officer and the harasser boss.

In one performance, a boy wanted to show what he’d do if HE were the cop, how to respect women and uphold everyone’s rights.

This little brother has his sister's back.

Now if only he were at the show with the National Police …

In the men’s piece, the most popular character to speak to is the city official who passes over the qualified candidate and gives the job to his family member.

Below are some photos of audience members making interventions on stage and speaking from their seats.  You’ll see more boys and men than women.  But that doesn’t reflect the reality of the events.

This girl spoke up and then got on stage to show what she meant.

More women than men, by far, got on stage and acted out their solutions for ending oppression.  However, we ask each person who speaks up to say if they want to be photographed or not.  Many girls and women didn’t want their photos taken, and we respected that request.

So here they are … speaking for themselves.  Acting as women, men, human beings demanding dignity.

This young woman confronts the husband who refuses to let his wife learn to read. She eventually gave the character a slap!

This young man stands in to confront the pervert boss! Our facilitator reminds him he's playing a woman now.

This uncle stands in for "Amina", and demands the police take her issue seriously. Though he makes everyone crack up.

"Jamila" watches this boy's tactic to confront the cop!

Speaking from his seat.

This youngster needed a little support from our facilitator as he confronted the husband character.

He made himself laugh after getting tough with the cop!