ktravula – a travelogue!

The Coloured Museum

A play to commemorate the Black History Month was staged at the Dunham Hall Theatre at the weekend. I was there to see the last show on Sunday on recommendation from friends who had seen it days before and had been impressed. The play, a series of short skits and vignettes, explores the many dimensions of being black in America.

From the problem of identity to the challenge of belonging, from the choices of hairstyle to family life, homosexuality, single motherhood, movie portrayal/stereotypes among many others, the play takes on everything inviting the audience to laugh, and then ponder. I overhead one of the performers explaining that it’s called “The Coloured Museum” because each skit represents an exhibit in the imaginary museum of racial relics. This gives the performance some perspective.

My favourite, Git on Board, was a satirical take on the middle passage, where passengers were admonished by a chatty flight attendant to “fasten their shackles” at all times, and endeavour to keep their drums and different tongues silent during the flight in order to prevent a mutiny. At the end of their trip, there awaited them a very promising future but not after about 300 years of hardship. The reward included a star-studded cultural evolution that included Aretha Franklin, basketball, a complex culture, and hip-hop. The play is hard to describe to anyone who hasn’t seen it so I won’t even try. It’s even more difficult because taking pictures of any of the acting scenes was prohibited from the start. I can say this though: it was an amazing performance by a cast of students. It stirred up the playwright in me.

The Coloured Museum was written by George C. Wolfe and directed by Kathryn Bentley.

Africa Night – A Celebration of Cultures

Away from the news of uprisings and unrests in parts of the continent, students and faculty of my university gathered on campus on Saturday to feast and celebrate what unites us all: the beauty of music, the graciousness of fashion, the excitement of dance, and the great pleasure of diversity. It was the annual Africa Night event which took place at the Meridian Ballroom. I was the host, along with Jacob Moorleghen, a volunteer from the S.P.E.A.C club – a charming co-host.

Written as a play of two friends from two countries travelling round the continent discovering places, people, food, artifacts and events, the show centred around showing the audience what they would usually not see on the news about Africa and its various people. A continent of (now) fifty-five countries is something that no one would be confident enough to claim to know without some sort of guidance, and the patience to explore. Jake was the American filmmaker, and I was his resource. A little tension of the “otherness” is added, and the drama of discovery begins. We went from Kenya to South Africa, to Congo and to Ghana, and to Nigeria, touching on sites of historical and economic significance along the way in other parts of the continent. The script was written by Julaine Fowlin and supported by a wonderful cast of students and other volunteers.

I am passionate about things like this – theatre, and such opportunities for social interaction and intervention, and I am very happy that it went very well. More than just the pleasure of bringing the beautiful aspects of the continent’s cultures to the appreciation of the most diverse audience, there is also a joy of being in company of such young people who hold the key to the next generation. It was a great night, and I thank the students for inviting/involving me.

On The Oscars

The King’s Speech – that great movie that explored the problem of speech impediments, the behind-the-scenes of British Royalty during a crucial time in world history, and a spectacular show of brilliant acting and grace – has been crowned by the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences. It won for the Best Director, Best Actor, Best Picture and for Original Screenplay.

Having seen the movie twice now, I can say that it is an honour well deserved, and more – not only because of the spectacular acting, but because of how it has brought into public conversation again, the debilitating problem of stuttering. I should also add that Colin Firth spent his first four years in Nigeria as a child – which should explain some of the brilliance he has shown in his career.

Five People in China

Five students of three countries from various disciplines sat down in a Chinese restaurant downtown Edwardsville today for dinner. It was the first time the five of them would be sitting together in one place, and it soon dawned on them that they were all beneficiaries of the Fulbright program. “Wow,” one of them said. “This is really interesting – three generations of scholars in one place at the same time.”

“By this time next year, if the current two return here, we’d be almost ten,” another person said, “and it would be interesting to gather around again for a discussion like this.”

“We could actually do something right now, you know.” The Egyptian said.

“Yes,” said the Moroccan. “I’ve been thinking of a public project involving us all and this environment, either on campus, or the public school system in the state. Some volunteer project in town, you know.”

“Why didn’t we think of this earlier? This actually sounds great. What do you have in mind?” I said.

“We can go to elementary schools to talk to them about where we’re from and what we do?”

“Or tell them stories, teach them songs, or share some cultural ideas. Or show a movie on campus?”

“It will enlighten them, I believe. I’m sure students will benefit from this. A cultural exchange. Something.”

“Totally.”

By the time the evening ended, they had discovered a new level of usefulness for the bond that they all shared. They had also figured out a more detailed plan of action and the path to putting the many ideas into practice. After all, it was right before their very eyes, and within their collective reach. They just hadn’t noticed it before because of individual commitments. Now everything had become clear. The day had served its usefulness. They cheered and partook of it with all relish.

On Teju Cole’s “Open City”

Here’s a few words on Nigerian writer’s American debut novel published by Random House books:

In Teju Cole’s novel “Open City” (Random House, 259 pages, $25), the narrator, a Nigerian émigré named Julius, says that he has developed the habit of “aimless wandering” through New York City. He is not being coy. “Open City” obediently follows him as he ambles through Central Park, browses in bookstores, strolls through museum galleries and tours the sights around Wall Street. He is in America on a fellowship to study psychiatry; when he takes a vacation, he goes to Brussels and wanders aimlessly there.

Julius finds that the more he roams the “solitary but social territory” of the streets, the more invisible he becomes. In part because he’s an expatriate and in part because he’s attracted to an existential philosophy that exalts “being magnificently isolated from all loyalties,” Julius feels alienated from the busy neighborhoods he passes through and the garrulous people he meets. Yet there remains a vague purpose to his purposelessness, a low-simmering desire to recognize himself in his surroundings: “I wanted to find the line that connected me to my own part in these stories.”

Not having read the book yet, what fascinates me the most about what I’ve read is the premise on which the book is based – the very nuanced nature of cities (and towns) and what they can offer us either at the level of imagination, or merely at face value. A new short story set in Edwardsville? Why not?

More on the book here and here in the New Yorker.

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