Dave's diary

Dave was unstinting in his efforts to ferry the Al Asria troupe around. This is his thoughts on the tour 

Thursday 30^th June

A slow start for the kids. Time to sleep and eat before congregating at my house and setting off for Liverpool with our other driver, Jo. They’re getting the hang of anglotime now – they were all here at 1:45 and off at 2pm, exactly as planned.

I thought I’d have a bit of quiet time to wash the bedding and clean the boys’ room but the phones are buzzing again. Pam, one of the YPCE group and an initiator of the whole project, got a phone call from the organiser of the Sheffield Childrens Festival withdrawing our ‘invitation’ to dance in Orchard Square on Saturday. I feel myself getting angrier and angrier. This is an issue of the freedom of artistic expression. Because of the actions of a pair of idiots, we are being censored by a third.

It has always been made clear to us by the Al Asria dancers, that this tour was not just about the dancing but also about the plight of the dancers as Palestinians who live in a refugee camp. We have always wholeheartedly supported that view. How can we separate culture from the politics of everyday life. They intertwine and inform each other. Art is not separate, elevated, elusive, elitist – it’s what we do, it’s how we see our world, it’s how we make sense of our world.

I noticed a display at the Merlin theatre advertising another childrens festival event – the play ‘Blood Brothers’ by Willy Russell – a brilliant and intensely political play. These people with the power to censor us are narrow-minded morons and, personally, we should treat them as such.

We’ve got a planning meeting tomorrow afternoon and we’ll have to discuss it all then. But now, with fire in my blood, I feel that we should defiantly dance in Orchard Square on Saturday and let as many of our supporters know why. This has now become a wider issue – the right to free artistic expression in this country. We should make as much of a fuss as possible –for our own freedoms as well as those of the Palestinian people.

Wednesday 29^th June

Everything’s getting smoother since I learned the Arabic word ‘yellah’ (which seems to mean ‘hurry up’!) and I get the dancers to the Merlin by 5:25pm, in time for a quick snack. Steve and the film crew want to film a costume rehearsal with the jib arm that allows a camera to get sweeping images of the performance – but the mechanism is too big to use during a public performance. It’s a great big thing like a crane and it would obscure the view of half the audience!

I leave them at the theatre and spend some time with my kids. At 9:30 I drove back and was met with an incredible story.

The performances start with the Palestinian national anthem and the audience stands. At this point the Lady Mayoress walks out! In the foyer she complains that “they’re not even singing in English” (yeah - like Carmen, Traviata and Rigoletto???). As Musheir explains something of the lives of the dancers to the audience, the Mayor walks out too! He says “It’s political”. Their levels of rudeness, racism and ignorance are staggering.

On the positive side, the audience is outraged by this behaviour and are wildly supportive of the dancers throughout the rest of (another stunning) performance.

At one point I saw the entire audience rise to chant “Viva Palestine!!” over and over again. The grand finale, like last night saw people flocking onto the stage to join the dance. The audience left exhilarated and wanting more.

In a packed Manchester Airport Arrivals Lounge we waited with mounting excitement. Constantly checking the information screens, talking, unfurling Palestinian flags and banners, preparing positions for the cameras. Finally, after nearly two years of preparation, Al Asria were about to touch down in England.

I managed to get my camera into a good position beyond the ‘official’ arrivals zone, covered up my Palestinian t-shit and tried to be unobstrusive and calm. But, as I saw the first of the dancers – in Palestinian scarf and Al Asria sweatshirt – push his trolley towards me, my heart was pumping. I had to remind myself that I was there to film their arrival, but I really just wanted to rush up to them and give them a huge hug! I filmed them all as they passed me, pushing their trolleys and gazing, wide-eyed at everything. As they turned a corner into the Arrivals Lounge a huge cheer went up and they were faced with our supporters from Sheffield and Liverpool waving the flags. Rows of beaming faces and tears of joy.

The dancers all lined up with their baggage and we went along the line, shaking hands and introducing ourselves – strange names and strange faces. It must have felt weird for them – two days of travelling from Gaza, the stress of crossing the border into Egypt, police custody to the airport, a night on the bare floored detention centre in Cairo airport, changing planes at Frankfurt - and now this. But everyone looked so happy.

Me and Jasvinder collected the two lads who were to stay with me: Bader (19) and Adham (20), luckily for me, Adham speaks excellent English. We were soon heading for the hills back to Sheffield. As we climbed out of Glossop to the summit of the Penines, Bader remarked that there were no stars in England! I tried to explain our weather as we drove through a thick cloud. I felt a little sad that the boys couldn’t see anything of the beautiful countryside as we drove along the Snake Pass. It’s dark when they arrive, and it’ll be dark when they leave!

Sunday 26^th June

Noon and brunch for all the dancers and their hosts at Musheir and Wassam’s. More introductions, trying very hard to match names and faces, but some of the Arabic sounds are hard for me to remember. Lots of talking, eating, laughing and ending with an impromptu performance – a taste of what’s to come!

6pm A group of us assemble at Padley Gorge near Grindleford, half an hour from Sheffield. They are all amazed at the beauty of it – sitting on fresh, green grass by a river. Several of the group tell me that there is nowhere like this in Gaza. It makes me feel sad that something we can so easily take for granted is so special to them. We teach some of them how to paddle, play volleyball, eat pistachios, talk until the midges come out.

8:30pm Dinner at my place with our boys and two of the girls, Shahd and Rwan, with their host Romola (who lives two minutes round the corner), my partner Susanne and my 14 year old son, Ben. The grown-ups fretting a bit about what they like to eat. The girls seem unhappy with vegetables, the boys’re happy that the girls are here. Are we chaperones? After dinner the boys want the girls to stay late and ‘make party’, us grown-ups get a bit anglo and we want to set limits – particularly as the girls look as if they’ll fall asleep at any minute. Rwan and Adham (on Susanne’s drum) play and sing for us. Beautiful, inspiring. Adham and Bader have started calling Susanne ‘mum’ and me ‘dad’. Adham explained that addressing anyone older by their first name only is a sign of disrespect in Palestine. Bed at midnight, Waltons-style - ‘goodnight mum’, ‘goodnight dad’, ‘goodnight sons’!!!

Monday 27^th June

The plan for today is for everyone to meet at Musheir and Wassam’s at 11:30am and I’ll drive them into the centre of Sheffield. I realise that Palestine is a Mediterranean country and that times and plans are flexible. They have an approach that makes manana sound like achtung. They are so laid back that getting them into the van takes an age!

Lunch. A picnic in the Peace Gardens – full of people enjoying the rare treat of eating their lunch in the sun. After our lunch Ali, the dabka instructor, pulled his bagpipes from a bag, Adham produced his drum and the dancers danced in the sunshine. A real treat for the rest of the crowd – everyone sat up and paid attention and generously applauded at the end of the dance. There were several Arabic speakers who engaged with the dancers and some of the group gave out publicity for tomorrow and Wednesday’s performances at the Merlin Theatre.

5pm Ten Pin Bowling!!! These kids had never seen anything like this before – but, as ever, within five minutes there were hoots of laughter, shared by some of our kids. They throw themselves into whatever comes up. Living in the moment. When the future looks as bleak as Palestine’s, what else can you do?

From the bowling it’s back to Hilary N’s in Pitsmoor for take-away pizza. Within minutes of sitting down in the garden the kids were singing and clapping. After the pizza, more singing, Ali playing his bagpipes, Adham and his drum. And then they danced, inviting us all to join in. Sheffield teenagers and their parents and the kids from Gaza, all squeezed into ten-foot circle, leaping around with joy. Wonderful.

Tuesday 28^th June

We’ve kept the morning clear for sleeping, chilling out. At 12:30 I try to get them all into the minibus to take them to the theatre for their first ever performance outside Gaza. How long have we dreamed of this day. I’m mentally pinching myself all the time, and we keep saying to each other They’re here! They’re really here!!’ It’s great – but the huge gap between our perceptions of time and theirs is becoming a bit of a chore. I have to shout ‘let’s go now!’ They all smile and say ‘yes’ – then carry on doing whatever they were doing before! I keep hassling and we’re only 15 minutes late at the theatre.

The Merlin Theatre sits in delightful gardens hidden from the surrounding houses by mature trees and shrubs. It’s a magical space and we all sat on the lawn with the film and sound crew eating chicken and rice prepared by Paul. A moment of calm before a rehearsal and the big event tonight.

Even the rigid attitude of the theatre staff doesn’t shake my feeling that something very, very special was about to happen. The phones have been buzzing for days – everyone wants a ticket and the word’s out that just turning up on spec wont work. Our emails have cascaded around the ether, posted on disparate websites by people who have been touched by our story and are keen to help. It felt great putting up the ‘Sold Out’ sign (pointing the disappointed to Wednesday’s performance and to the Bakewell concert a week on Friday).

The performance was truly staggering. Beyond all my expectations. These kids can dance. Stomping, twirling, shouting, singing, laughing. There was always a bit of concern in my mind about how the group would go down here. Was this just a worthy attempt to get some kids out of their refugee camp for a couple of weeks – no matter how well (or badly) they could perform? No worries!! From the moment they took to the stage they were electrifying. This is quality stuff, and the audience recognised it as such. Sometimes, when something stunning happens, an English audience can forget itself and clap and dance and whoop without reservation. And they did! The grand finale involved getting 30 or so members of the audience on stage to join the dance, and they did with passion.

It was a triumph. The organising group feel more relaxed since we knew this afternoon that it wasn’t going to be a financial disaster – we’ll sell 400+ tickets for the Sheffield gigs and collected £300 in a bucket during the interval. We should have a tidy sum to left over to send back to the Als Asria childrens centre in Jabailia.

Midnight. Finally got them all out of the theatre in a thunderstorm and taken deposited them with Musheir in a kebab shop. They were starving after the performance – and too elated to sleep. We used some of the ‘bucket’ money to feed them and give them a chance to calm down.

2am Flop into bed after throwing Adham and Bader’s (extensive) costumes into the washing machine. Tomorrow’s forecast is rain. I don’t know how I’m going to get it all dry for the theatre call at 5pm,

Wednesday 29^th June

7am Costumes hung up in the airing cupboard.

11am Cooked ‘my’ boys a Palestinian breakfast (cheese omelette, cucumber and tomato salad, olives, pitta bread) because I was worried about them not liking our food. They ate the lot then I had to chase Adham to get him off for a Sheffield Live radio broadcast at 11:30. He left the house at 11:15.

11:30am Met up with the rest of the kids at Hilary S’s (four are at the radio station) and filmed them listening to the broadcast. Noticed that they talked through most of it (teenagers!) and only really paid attention when the broadcast last night’s concert – by then my camera was out of tape! Got a few nice shots of the kids playing. Came back from Hil’s at 1:30 leaving the kids to chill with her and Mohammed. At 5pm I’m taking them to theatre. More herding them into the van and trying to get them thinking in English-time! I think I’ll grab a nap!!

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