Saturday, 14 December 2013

New Year street theatre, post - mortem

Well, back an entry or two  ( )  there was me going on about how enjoyable the impromptu street party, racing, dancing, dressing up for National Day was. A huge release of peaceful, boisterous, happy energy. I tried to engage the studes with it in ensuing lessons asking whether the boys, who all must live off campus, were there (girls not allowed out without a family penis to accompany) in their fright masks, wigs and er...dresses. A silent fumbling and mumbling, heads down exclamatory no came through at three decibels. I feigned a burst of  surprise, showed some inappropriate shots of New Year of National Day in different countries to try engender conversation and for once nothing came of it. I left it...the collective hive mind was not going to talk. The hive mind is wont to do that.

However, a few days back it emerges that one of my colleagues who really is in the know with local journos and local Really Big People through consultancy work and being fat with the British Council, explained over a friendly pint that Plod did get involved late night / early morning to close down any semblance of fun and genial disorder and drag off anyone in a wig, mask or girls' clothing.
It disappointed me but then did  sound sadly familiar. For plod and power the world over does not like being overawed and appearing pointless and useless...what kind of small-willied example would that be to a hitherto dutiful and respectful population - cuddly bits of the early Arab Spring notwithstanding. Word is that next year spontaneous joy will not be happening...which may of course be a way of bottling up trouble which a look over the region might not be a good idea especially when you are getting on a bit and had the best part of 50 mostly benevolent and beneficial years in power. Ah well, not my place to speculate but it is good to know folk with an ear to the ground which fully explains the 'shame' felt or at least dutifully modelled to the curious, nosy outsider.

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