I'm writing this from an internet cafe in Kathamandu's bustling Thamel district, an area bursting with guest houses, bars and shops selling all manner of trinkets and climbing equipment to the backpackers who come here to organise their treks in the mountains.
I'm performing in a production of Eloquent Protest at the Kathmandu International Theatre Festival, hosted by Gurukal School of Theatre. The show is a patchwork of anti-war speeches, songs, scenes and poems from WWI onwards, and was first produced in London by Feelgood Theatre three years ago to coincide with Remembrance Sunday. Since then it has returned every year, growing larger each time, with a cast of big name artists giving their time freely to raise money for Medecines San Frontieres. Hazel Roy, one of the original producers, has a long relationship with Nepal and was invited to bring a production to the festival, so she decided to take a scaled down version of Eloquent Protest, with just four performers replacing the fifty or so that made up the London cast. We were fortunate enough to take part in the London show before we flew out, literally before - our flight was the same evening! It was a wonderful experience and an honour to perform alongside such high calibre artists; Lemn Sissay's 'Queen's Speech' and Peter Straker's version of Jacques Brel's 'Next' were particular highlights. You can read The Sunday Times' five star review here
Performing our version in Nepal has been a difficult journey, we were constrained by lack of rehearsal time and technical problems (the show relies heavily on projected images - a problem in a country with frequent power-cuts!). Also I wonder if performing such a text-based show to a predominantly non-English speaking audience was the best idea, but it seemed to be quite well received, even by those who couldn't understand it all. We've had the same problem watching shows in Nepali and Bengali, but there is still a lot you can take from a production even if you don't know what is being said. The best thing about the show for me, apart from getting to recite some brilliant material from the likes of Benjamin Zephaniah, Henry Reed and Siegfried Sassoon, was having input from some Nepali artists - a musician called Kiran who accompanied us on guitar and sarangi, a type of Nepalese violin, and an actress called Haushala who wrote a beautiful piece about the legacy of the recent civil war which she delivered in English and Nepali. We even had a real Gurkha in full uniform to play the Last Post at the end, which was very moving given the Gurkha's recent victory over the right to settle in England after service.
My only regret was that I didn't have any material of my own to perform; I haven't written any war poems and didn't have time to create anything before I left. But I have lots of inspiration now, and though I haven't written any poetry since being here I'm keeping a daily diary, which I hope is a practice I'll continue when I get home. I only ever feel like keeping one when I'm away somewhere, but I suppose the challenge is to have the sort of experiences at home, or at least to value them in the same way, that you do as when you're abroad.