Tasmania - a journey into yourself

Shivangi Ambani-Gandhi

When convicts were shipped from England to Australia to serve a sentence of eternal banishment and estrangement, the worst of the offenders, went to Tasmania—an island of the island continent, thus twice isolated. Today, visitors come here looking for this very isolation and the natural wilderness it has helped preserve.

The Franklin-Gordon Rivers gush through the World Heritage protected national park in wild abandon, making for an excellent multi-day rafting experience. Gigantic waves come crashing to Tasmanian shores all the way from Antarctica, and you can take in the unending vista at the Wineglass Bay Lookout in Freycinet National Park. Seal colonies rest lazily, as seagulls swoop down on dolphins going hunting off the rugged coast of Bruny Island. And for those who like to discover the adventure on their feet, the Overland Track and the Bay of Fires walk offer arduous, but unprecedented experiences.

Hobart

I began my introduction to Tassie, as the Aussies call it, in the coastal city of Hobart, which is protected from the icy winds of the Roaring ‘40s by the towering Mount Wellington. Just a short 10-minute drive out of the city centre, there is a trail leading to beautiful springs in Mount Wellington Park, and the views over the city from its peak are gorgeous.

Meanwhile, a stroll through the carefully preserved Georgian cottages of Battery Point and the original cemetery in the historic St David’s Park will reveal the city’s historic significance. By the waterfront, the row of tastefully restored Georgian warehouses form the famous Salamanca Place which houses restaurants, cafés, shops and an excellent arts centre. The mellow sandstone buildings come alive every Saturday when the open air Salamanca Markets bring local produce—jams, pickles, condiments, fudge, home-baked breads and biscuits—and crafts to the city.

Fresh produce, including excellent seafood, also makes its way into Hobart’s restaurants, many of which have a decidedly bohemian atmosphere. You can’t walk into the Sirensrestaurant wearing any form of militia regalia. However, for peace-loving vegetarians like me, the place is a gem serving up melt-in-your-mouth dumplings in an oriental broth, perfectly grilled tofu with unbelievably sweet, fresh greens and a desert of the creamiest chocolate mousse with crunchy pistachio short bread and Turkish delight fingers.

Hobart is also home of Cascade brewery and wine trails abound in the surrounding areas. There are several other day trips starting from Hobart—including the popular convict sites of Port Arthur—and most visitors tend to restrict their Tasmanian holiday to the Hobart base, but Tasmania has a world to offer if you are willing to step out of the comfort zone.

Bruny Island

The half-hour ferry from Kettering to Bruny Island seems like a journey to another time-space continuum. The bush lies undisturbed, the waves crash in undeterred, the wind untamable and you seem to be floating in the ocean, in the middle of nowhere.

A narrow isthmus called the Neck, links North and South Bruny. The Neck Lookout offers breathtaking views of the isthmus, the wild ocean and the South Bruny National Park. At the base of the lookout, are mutton bird rookeries and a spot to view fairy penguins return home to the beach at dusk.

You can also take cruises around the coast to view wild dolphins and seals. I decided to drive through the renowned national park inst

ead and began with a leisurely lunch at the Hothouse Café at Adventure Bay. The excellent views over the isthmus, canopied picnic tables, local wines and delicious focaccias and wraps freshly prepared make this a perfect spot for a relaxing lunch.

Then I head to the southern edge of the island—Cape Bruny Lighthouse, the second-oldest manned-lighthouse in Australia, built using convict labour. Looking south, is the seemingly unending Southern Ocean that stretches down to Antarctica. Turn north and you can see the rugged edges of Bruny Island fighting a loosing battle against the icy wind and powerful waves that erode its cliffs into dramatic rock formations.

The Rivers Run

The Derwent River snakes across western Tasmania from the snow-capped peaks of Lake St Claire National Park, and I drove upstream through the fertile towns along its banks. This route is dubbed the Rivers Run by the travel brochures—not without reason.

Although a state highway, the road is mostly a two lane road and extremely quiet—I could hear the gentle flow of water in the river alongside almost all along. This road trip created a sense of gentle pace, of stillness and of a world without deadlines for a city-dweller like me. Tasmania is an escape into eternity, and this is just the beginning.

Lake St Claire

Arriving at the grand Lake St Claire, I know I have made it into the heart of the high country. The lake is at the southern end of the six-day walk on the famous Overland Track, and you will see the ferry bring in bushwalkers—their clothes and shoes caked with mud, and an irrepressible smile brought by the experience.

However, you don’t need to walk too far to see the region’s natural beauty. The viewing platform just across the visitor centre offers a fantastic view over the still waters of the lake, which perfectly reflect the snow peaks on the other end.

A short walk to Watersmeet, takesme to the cascading rivers that feed the lake. Further into the national park, the brochure says, I may spot the elusive platypus. Here, the boardwalk disappears into a narrow mud path. From here on, I am intruding into nature, and I want to leave as small a footprint as possible. The walk is beautiful, the trees buffer me from the world outside, and the lake goes golden under the setting sun.

Tiny sand beaches line the walk—they seem like postcards from a Robinson Crusoe adventure. Dusk is the best time to view the platypus, and I wait patiently by the designated viewing spot. Tasmania teaches you to wait, quietly. The view over the lake is so breathtaking that I almost forget I still have to tick the platypus off our agenda. And then I realise that I need to drop that ‘to-do list’. I spend a few more minutes in quiet contemplation, taking in the real beauty of the place. In the end, I did not find the platypus, but I did find myself.

However, this does not mean that Tassie will disappoint—it is rather that surprise gem you find when you least expect it. On the walk back, I encounter the friendliest wallabies—half a dozen of them, gently grazing away. No brochure had told me about them.

The West Coast Wilderness Way

In the twilight, I journey further towards the west coast. The snow-capped mountains lie just ahead and the moon is pinned up on a purple sky, the lakes glittering silver in its light.

Approaching the mining town of Queenstown, the trees disappear suddenly. The hillsides of Mt Lyell have seen the upheaval of a mining frenzy, leaving this town looking like a bare, dramatic lunar landscape. Although the original open cut copper mine is long gone, underground mining continues till date, with the ore being exported to India. You can journey underground in a mine tour to see its thunderous crusher reduce gigantic rocks to football size in seconds.

Apparently, residents are quite protective of this landscape and don’t want the trees to grow back. However, environmentalists who are looked upon with disdain at Queenstown, are heroes just a few miles west.

The Green movement successfully campaigned against flooding the wild Franklin River for a hydro-electric scheme. The West Coast Wilderness Railway traverses this pristine wilderness between Queenstown and Strahan. River cruises and sea planes from Strahan take you into the further reaches of this World Heritage Area. Strahan’s harbourside is pretty, but quite commercialized, and after a quick bite, I escape to the one-hour walk though rainforest into Hogarth Falls.

Near Strahan is the impressive 33-km stretch of Ocean Beach. Behind the beach, the sand stretches into the 30-metre high Henty Dunes. I climbed up one of these dunes for some great views and came tumbling, rollicking down. You can also rent sand boards at Strahan, or take a quad bike ride through these beauties.

Cradle Mountain National Park

I walked into my rustic cottage at the Cradle Mountains Highlander and welcoming me in, were wallabies just outside the door. Once you are in Cradle Mountain, you don’t really need totravel any further, or take any tours—nature’s gifts lie all around you, waiting to be explored. And the many walks in the area are an excellent way to do that.

Among the short walks starting at the visitor centre, the Pencil Pine walk takes you through the magnificent native Pencil Pine trees, which can be seen only in Tasmania. The Enchanted Walk takes you through the rainforest, past a beautiful stream and is littered with interpretation tents that your kids will love.

At Dove Lake, the circuit around the lake takes you beneath the towering spires of Cradle Mountain. As you walk walked around the lake, with the shifting perspective, the mountain peak seemed to transform.

However, in Tasmania, you can’t really stick to plans—and this time the rain clouds took over. The craggy peaks disappeared, and the rain pelted down. I hurried indoors for a warm bite,and curled up by the crackling fire for some time to reflect on this holiday.

I know I have to return here—not to tick those remaining boxes, but to journey further. There is no itinerary of highlights that you can tick off; only soothing moments for soul searching. There are no souvenirs to buy; only moments to cherish. Tasmania is not the holiday of instant gratification—but rather a journey into yourself.

A very Indian brekkie on an iconic Aussie bridge

Zooming through the Harbour Bridge, I’ve often wondered what it would be like to stop and stare at the magnificent iron arches of the Coat Hanger. As if reading my mind, Nathan Rees rolled out an emerald-green grass carpet, and invited 6000 Sydneysiders to indulge in a leisurely breakfast, and watch the sun rise over our glorious harbour, atop our most iconic bridge. Yours truly and three friends were among the lucky ones.

On the morning of October 25, 2009 we began our journey towards Milsons Point with some anticipation: a forecast of stormy rains threatened to ruin the day. At 5am on the train from Town Hall, the atmosphere was similar to taking a train to Olympic Park for a major play-off: crowds eager for the event to begin and the excitement palpable in the air.

Once at Milson’s Point, we knew we were part of something special—the station underpass was swarming with volunteers and crew dressed in Breakfast on the Bridge regalia; families, couples and friends lined up to get onto the bridge; helicopters hovering above capturing the moment for posterity; roving entertainers building up the mood; and of course the Harbour Bridge looming over the scene, almost within reach.

As we made our way along the two kilometre walk up to the bridge, the stage was set—we were in a charming country town. The fiddler played his gentle tunes from an antique car, folk musicians welcomed guests from a dusty truck, floral garlands were strung across the bridge, cows in their stables were waiting to be fed by the guests, shiny red apples lay at the base of trees, and finally we could feel the freshly damp grass under our feet.

We were given our token for allocated picnic spots—at number 6, we were bang in the centre of the bridge, the sails of the Opera House suspended just behind us. Hungrily we unpack our picnic bags—walnut bread, muffins and yogurt. Then our friends open up their goodies: spicy moong, crisp Gujarati khakhras, peppered puris and the Indian elixir of life—steaming masala chai. It turned out to be a very Indian nashta on an iconic Aussie bridge.

And then the goodies began pouring in. First off, the tempting Bartalow apples we weren’t allowed to pluck earlier. Then the rich, organic Yalla yogurt, fresh bread from Abbott’s Village Bakery and real fruit Cuttaway Creek jam—a delicious display of local NSW produce.

Our group chattered away, eating the delicious brekkie. Our cameras clicked madly trying to capture this awesome event and this new perspective of the bridge which looks so different from underneath, even if you’ve done the Bridge Climb.

As if these memories weren’t enough, the lovely volunteers get into action again—this time distributing Breakfast on the Bridge 2009 souvenirs! It was our very own piece of history to take home. For now though, we put on the caps and badges. The helicopters fly around, and the crowds rise in undulating waves. This is the moment—a moment in Sydney’s history, where many of her residents—across age, religion and race—came together to regale in her beauty.

After all the excitement, comes the moment of silent contemplation. The sun shines brightly and the clouds have parted, and the true majesty of this imposing piece of architecture dawns on me. In the midst of this crowd of 6000+, for a moment I was alone with the bridge—she spoke to me, her massive iron arms seemed to extend in a gesture of friendship. Thus far, I had been a stranger in a strange land. Today, I know her a little better, and perhaps she knows me a little too.

Breakfast on the Bridge was a highlight event as part of the month-long festival Crave Sydney 2009 and will be back next year.

Laughter is the best medicine

Allah Made Me Funny, will first make you burst into side-splitting laughter and then leave you pondering over your own prejudices, writes Shivangi Ambani-Gandhi

In a 2-day comedy festival, with over 200 comedians, it is tough to keep the audience laughing through your hour-long gig. It is even tougher to keep them thinking long and hard after the final jibe has been made.

The trio of funny Muslims, Allah Made Me Funny, were a comic act with a message performing at the World’s Funniest Island comedy festival held at Cockatoo Island on October 17 and 18, 2009.

“Sir Peter Ustinov once said: ‘Comedy is just a funny way of being serious,’” Founding member of Allah…Azhar Usman says. “That’s the history of standup as an art form. It is born out of the politics of racial agitation of the 1940s and 1950s in the United States, developed by Black American and Jewish American comedians,” he adds.

Allah Made Me Funny confronts every stereotypical notion about Muslims and demolishes it, while eliciting side-splitting laughter. During his gig at Cockatoo Island, Usman said, “What are the two biggest stereotypes about Muslims? Muslim men are terrorists and Muslim women are oppressed. If they had ever been to a Muslim household they would find that it is in fact the exact opposite. Muslim women are terrorists and Muslim men are oppressed.”

On a more serious note, Usman writes in our email interview, “There is a long history of Western portrayals of Muslims as barbaric and violent. Interestingly, in the Middle Ages, European Christendom held two dominant views regarding Muslims: that they were violent, and that they were sexually promiscuous. Nowadays, so-called “Westerners” tend to think of Muslims as violent and sexually repressed. That’s an interesting shift, and probably the subject of a fascinating PhD dissertation. I sure would like to know what the hell happened along the way!”

The other myth that the Allah… trio often try to dispel is the notion of the homogeneity of Islamic communities in the US and around the world. In fact the trio is exemplary of the diversity of the community: Allah… comprises of Indian-American, Usman, African-American Bryant "Preacher" Moss and Arab-American Mohammed "Mo" Amer.

This also means that each of them finds unending fodder for comedy in their own cultural backyards. “My standup is very personal. I talk about myself, my life, my experiences, and my own ideas,” says Usman. The trio pick on seemingly innocuous activities that often turn into tense situations for Muslims: greeting fellow Muslims in Arabic in public, calling out to a naughty nephew named Mohammed in a crowded mall, and the worst of all, going into an airport.

Amer draws on his Palestinian background and his very Arab family to elicit laughs over everything from checkpoints to marital misunderstandings. Moss offers a warm and irreverent perspective on being both Black and Muslim. Meanwhile Usman can hardly resist taking on Bollywood dance sequences and Indian accents and mispronunciations.

Usman also does a show with a couple of other Indian-American comedians called Make Chai Not War. “The present tensions between religious identity groups in South Asia are very modern manifestations of distortions of religious teachings,” he says. “It is religious fundamentalism of the ugliest kind, because it seeks to reduce hundreds of millions of people into simple labels. Our show acts as a small antidote to that phenomenon by recalling the good ole days when Hindus and Muslims lived and worked together as brothers and sisters in Mother India.”

Usman is also currently working on a humour book project titled Everything You Ever Wanted to Know About Muslims but Were Afraid to Ask (No Really Afraid!). He also works as a writer and producer, and is currently developing treatments for two screenplays, as well as two TV shows. He is star and creator of Tinku’s World, a semi-scripted alternative web comedy show

Besides comedy, Usman is involved in various forms of activism. “My comedy is supplemental to the rest of my life, in that regard, where I find myself involved with all sorts of activism and social projects besides my work as a standup.”

He helped co-found the Nawawi Foundation (www.nawawi.org), a research institution that primarily supports the ongoing research and academic writing of the Scholar-in-Residence, Dr. Umar Faruq Abd-Allah. “He is one of my shaykhs (spiritual guide), and his writings inspire and inform just about every aspect of my life and thought,” he says.

Usman was also inspired in his teenage years by alternative readings of U.S. history, including Howard Zinn’s A People's History of the United States and the books of Naom Chomsky. “I also came of age against the organic musical phenomenon of hip-hop and rap music, heavily inspired by the lyrics of Public Enemy and the like.”

However, he was always a funny kid, he says. “The class clown, so to say. But I never imagined a life as a professional standup comedian. I finally decided to try standup in early 2001, and I quit my day job as a lawyer to pursue my comedy career full time in early 2004.”

Since then he has toured around the world, including a short tour of India in 2008 and the first standup comedy show in the history of Egypt in 2007. He has even done a private show for former Pakistani President Pervez Musharraf, while he was still the sitting leader. “It was at a guy's house in Dallas, Texas. That was one of the most surreal nights of my life. I remember him laughing. A little.”

For more information visit www.allahmademefunny.com and www.azhar.com

Folk with a lot of funk

Kartick & Gotam take listeners on an unforgettable musical journey through Asia and the Middle East.

It is only fitting that Kartick and Gotam’s (K&G) latest album was created on an airport. After all, Business Class Refugees is electro-folk without borders—a global, collaborative project of local music from around the world.

Taking their base tracks around the world, music producer Kartick (Patrick Sebag) and sound designer Gotam (Yotam Agam) collaborate with local musicians to overlay folk tunes and lyrics with electronica, creating soulful music with zing.

In the opening track, Bonjour, Mahesh Vinayakram’s resounding vocals blend effortlessly with the evocative strains of Armenian wind instrument, duduk, while renowned French bassist Mishko M’ba, converses with flautist Navin Iyer and Yoav Bunzel’s rhythmic drums. K&G’s groovy electronics flow through the track, adding pace and tempo. The musical conversations finish with the Tashi Lumpo Monastery monk’s long horns—a cosmic sound of reverberating power that reaches the depths of your soul, lighting it up as if for an eternity.

Equally evocative are Boye Boye from Tajikistan, Punjabi folk song, Heer and classical Carnatic composition Vellai Thaamarai, reinvented for the modern lounge. Although ‘remix’ and fusion’ have become dirty words in some music circles, K&G are convinced about their work.

“Even if its folk music, it has to keep evolving, so our base is always respectful of the roots and tradition,” says Kartick. “It is my perspective of that actual piece of music… like a chef making a fusion dish of one or more traditional food, or making it his way.”

Gotam acknowledges their work may not be understood and appreciated by everyone. “Living in India for so many years I have faced it (criticism from traditionalists), but for every one person who felt offended, I met a hundred who were fascinated, and appreciative.”

No listener could however deny the rich tapestry of musical traditions and styles the album traverses, propelling the listener into fascinatingly unfamiliar territories, taking the idea of armchair travelling to a whole new level.

The Israeli duo credits the multicultural environment of their early years for this interest in global music. “The old neighbourhoods that we grew up in had immigrants from everywhere, so we got exposed to music from all over the world - Russia, Poland, Morocco, India, Romania,” says Kartick. “I grew up in the desert for 15 years, spending lots of time with nomad tribes, and Israel is a melting pot of culture,” adds Yotam.

“(Traditional music is) old, has a history and culture behind it,” says Kartick. “We're hungry to know about and explore other cultures, and to know the stories behind the songs and music.”

Their album too has an interesting story behind it. On their way from South India to a remote village in Aceh, Indonesia, they ran into visa problems in transit through Singapore and were forced to wait indefinitely at the airport. While most of us would have complained and sulked, Kartick and Gotam made music on their laptops using recordings of indigenous music they gathered during their journey through Asia. Thus, Business Class Refugees was born.

Although the album was programmed mainly at the airport, the original recordings were done across Israel and India—at times, on location. “The thrill is in actually being there as it happens - the smells, hear the children, sweating... it changes the way you hear traditional music in its original environment,” says Kartick. “It's the difference between theatre and cinema - a real time experience.”

Gotam recollects a special moment recording on location: “Visiting the Sufi musicians in their village and setting up a mobile studio in a tiny house packed with 100 people that all centred on one thing—music!” It is this freshness of sound and experience in Business Class Refugees that you will not find in other more pristine, studio bound projects.

Collaboration, especially with local musicians, lies at the centre of their musical practice. Every local artist and traditional source is carefully attributed in their album. “In a way yes it's a way to promote lesser known music,” says Kartick. Yotam adds, “Music is the only way to reach world peace.”

And these are not just empty words of a utopian dream—Kartick and Gotam have lived the cliché of making a difference through cross-cultural collaborations in music. The duo were part of the seminal Laya Project, an audio visual documentary celebrating music from communities devastated by the 2004 Asian tsunami. “It was a different kind of wave that brought us all together to give their best for this project that took over two and half years to record, film and post produce,” says Kartick. “It is a very special project close to our hearts.”

The project has also travelled extensively as The Laya Project Live!—a show of over 24 musicians on stage from diverse music traditions and styles, video art and light design. “(It is) a show that has a long life and relevance,” says Kartick. The show opened the Perth Festival earlier this year.

Kartick and Gotam are looking at future collaborations with Australian artists and will also perform in Melbourne on the opening night of the Australasian World Music Expo on November 19, 2009. Gotam says, “(Performing in Perth) was great, the crowd was very different from the crowd in India but again music is an amazing bridge and it worked.”

Business Class Refugees is available for purchase via Planet Imports in Australia in stores, and online via iTunes or http://www.earthsync.com/

Kartick & Gotam will perform live on the opening night of the Australasian World Music Expo on November 19, 2009 in Melbourne. For more details visit: www.awme.com.au

Two emerging artists unveil the mayhem under the calm

The pristine walls of Monster Children Gallery and the suburban buzz of the Darlinghurst streets outside, make a stark contrast to the worlds created by Mark Whalen and Cleon Peterson in their new exhibition, The Mirror Stage.

Peterson’s monochromatic paintings of violence and abuse are like a stop motion animation version of a Tarantino film. His figures clash in turbulent scenes, committing random acts of violence.

There is no symbolism or masking of raw brutality—Peterson unveils the frustrations simmering under the surface of contemporary society. Revealing a primordial anger, his figures punch and stab, rip each other apart and claw at each other. Every character is sinister—there are no winners or losers, no good versus evil.

Peterson paints the world he saw, living on the streets as a junkie. “I see violence and drugs and sex as passionate climaxes of the plot,” he told Anthem Magazine. “With the colour and energy within these paintings, I’m trying to create this world where everything is about to fall apart at the seams – where there’s so much intensity and deviance that there’s no room for anything else in a way; it’s just this image of chaos.”

However, the chaos in his paintings is meticulously created using principles of design. His training in graphic design brings a balance of form, colour and intensity to his works.

Although inspired by his home city, Peterson doesn’t situate his works in a particular place. “I'd agree that LA informs my work, but more so it’s the city and the things that happen in dense environments where people are jammed together and having to deal with each other,” he told myartspace.com. “Every city I've lived in has had these pockets of mayhem, where people are acting out desperation in primal ways.”

Meanwhile, Sydney-born Mark Whalen depicts a society breaking down under the burden of pseudo religion, terrorism, gambling and a fixation with money. God-like creatures and monolithic structures tower over the minions—but the powerful figures are made of a pack of cards that could come crashing down.

Whalen’s intricate paintings are a dramatic shift from the large scale throw ups and graffiti art of his early days in Sydney, operating under the pseudonym Kill Pixie.

“The one thing that got me into detailed work in the first place was making everything with big lines and strokes; I got quite bored with it,” he told The Blackmail. “If I had the time, I’d spend six months on one piece. Details are really fascinating to me. I’m so obsessed with making intricate work and what I can do with it. It probably will implode at some point.”

With sell out shows in Los Angeles, and winning the Sydney Music, Arts & Culture (SMAC) Best Visual Artist Award 2008, Whalen has certainly exploded onto the arts scene.

The Mirror Stage, an exhibition by Kill Pixie/Mark Whalen & Cleon Peterson, continues at the Monster Children Gallery until September 17, 2009.

Interior disaster

Can there be beauty in chaos?

Francesca Rosa’s forensic-like, photographic documentation of the havoc wrecked by Cyclone Larry on homes and lives, captures the beauty of line, form and colour in wreckage.

A twisted mattress, an upturned table and loosely hanging cables lay strewn about, but compose a balanced frame. Light filtering through gaps in the ceiling forms lines and patterns, bringing an eerie symmetry to the disarray. A ceramic bowl, brightly wrapped chocolates and a lone flower add touches of colour. Interior disaster is a moving memorial of the devastation.

Interior Disaster shows at the Australian Centre for Photography until Aug 22, 2009

Theatre to make you think

Expect no easy answers in the double-bill of timeless, yet timely theatre by the Alex Buzo Company





If a white Aussie, clad in a t-shirt bearing the Australian flag were to stop you in a dimly-lit street corner, what would your first thought be? One late evening, outside a city construction site, when Norm asks him for a light, Ahmed hesitates—a shadow, a fear crosses his face.

"This isn't India, mate, you're in Sydney," Norm tells Ahmed. "No Bombay Stranglers around here."

They are characters from Australian playwright Alex Buzo’s play, Norm and Ahmed, which premiered in 1968. The first local Australian production to bring the Asian perspective to stage has now been brought back to stage by his daughter, and Founder-Director of the Alex Buzo Company, Emma Buzo.

She has also commissioned contemporary playwright Alana Valentine, to respond to this Australian classic with a companion piece – Shafana and Aunt Sarrinah: Soft Revolution. Both plays are showing in a double-bill at the Seymour Theatre Centre until August 29.
Norm and Ahmed, a 45-minute dialogue between the two characters, displays some taut writing। Norm begins to befriend Ahmed, slowly winning his confidence, yet momentarily displaying racist, nationalistic opinions.

“A bloke at work said he didn’t see the point of bringing a whole lot of boongs out here. Excuse the term, Ahmed…”

A piece of graffiti in the backdrop for the play is threateningly foretelling of the relationship between Norm and Ahmed: “We grew here, you flew here”

The audience is always on the edge: Is Norm a violent racist, or just an old widower looking for a little harmless conversation? Are they going to part as friends, having learned a little about the “other” community? Can the native and the immigrant bridge the chasms created by change? Can the struggle between the conservatism and radicalism, between reason and belief ever be won?

The shocking climax of Norm and Ahmed triggered a censorship battle in the 70‘s, bringing the emerging Australian theatre scene on the front page of media। The point of contention was the final line, "F॥king boong!". The actors and director were arrested for use of obscene language in a public space. It was the penultimate word that was considered offensive – not “boong”, as one might imagine.

“Fairly soon after it was banned in three Australian states at the time of its premiere 40 years ago, the authorities could not contend with the play’s popularity,” says Emma Buzo। “It quickly became an Australian classic and has been studied in schools and universities around Australia ever since.” Norm and Ahmed is now part of prescribed text for the NSW HSC (2010-2012). “It has also received countless productions in Australia, Malaysia and India,” she adds.

Laurence Coy is brilliant as the middle-aged ocker, Norm—slipping in the occasional “boong”, recalling his days in the Vietnam War with violent re-enactments, while encouraging Ahmed to make his life in Australia। Craig Meneaud is perfect as the immaculate, soft-spoken, yet opinionated Pakistani student, Ahmed. Although eager to avoid causing offence, he does however hesitantly give his honest opinion if asked.

The ever shifting, friend-foe struggle between Norm and Ahmed is timeless। Emma Buzo reveals that minimal changes were made to the original script to situate it appropriately for audiences today. “The character of Norm was originally a World War Two veteran. This production sets the action in the present and makes Norm a Vietnam veteran. This time, Ahmed carries a backpack instead of a briefcase as per the original script,” she says. “Very few words had to be changed for it to sit comfortably in the present day.”

The play is also extremely timely, in an eerie twist of fact imitating fiction, with the recent reports of racist attacks on Indian students. “I commissioned a play to respond to Norm and Ahmed because it is perhaps more relevant now than when it premiered in 1968,” says Buzo.

Its companion piece, Shafana and Aunt Sarrinah, is just as timely, but strongly situated in the present, with its references to google, and the moment that altered the Muslim identity—9/11। Again uncannily timed to the ban over the burkha in France, the story follows a young science student who wants to put on the hijab.

“I commissioned Alana Valentine... after she told me a captivating story about the opposition a young Afghani Australian Muslim woman faced from her own family about her decision to wear the headscarf,” writes Emma Buzo in the production notes। “We don’t often hear of diversity within an ethnic community,” she adds.

Shafana, inspired by Makiz Ansari from Affinity Intercultural Foundation, launches into a struggle of religious faith and political belief with her beloved Aunt Sarrinah.
Her aunt’s story is familiar to many immigrants। A well placed engineer, back home in Afghanistan, Sarrinah has settled for a job in a factory, and is studying to get her qualification recognised in Australia.

The cheerful woman of wit and humour at the start of the play, slowly unravels her deepest fears when Shafana insists on an outward display of her faith। Camilla Ah Kin, as Sarrinah, carefully unveils the confident Afghani-Australian: slowly disintegrating under the haunting memories of escape from Afghanistan. You cannot move on from your past sometimes—it lingers, waiting for a single moment of vulnerability.

Sheridan Harbridge exudes the enthusiasm of a young, passionate and sincere Shafana—she has understood, discovered her religion। And now, even the gravest of objections—restrictions in her social interactions and her career progression—seem petty.

Shafana fumbles, folds and unfolds the scarf, caught between her own convictions and the fears of her aunt—the one person whose judgement she trusts the most। Will Shafana put on the scarf? Will our society see the young girl, the scientist under the hijab? Or will she remain forever burdened by the socio-political symbols attributed to the headscarf?

As the director, Aarne Neeme writes in the production notes, “Good theatre doesn’t provide solutions; it speculates – leaving the answers for the audience।”

For further information, please see www।alexbuzo।com।au