Biding time

Sometimes you find beauty in the simplest places. Here in the hostel I am staying at, someone placed these pink, translucent flowers in a spot in the grill with beautiful results.Just biding my time, doing some drawing and planning for next steps on “Risalo”. Reaching out to people for help with the Sindhi script.

I went and spent some time with the super talented Najib Rashdi. It was fun talking art and eating some delicious watermelon. Perfect for a hot day.

Bystander at the Ludo Championship

I listened to the rest of my music collection and noted down the best voices I found. There is no lack of musical talent in Sindh. The various traditions are rich and beautiful.I spent the day contacting friends to see if they knew of other people that might be able to help Javaid Solangi and I work out the Sindhi verses for the script for “Risalo”. There are some possibilities, but I really need to keep things moving.I spent the afternoon at Shahid sahib’s home and caught the guys playing a game of Ludo. I hung out and mostly talked to Javaid. It was a welcome respite from being holed up in the dorm room with my own thoughts.Just before sunset, I walked back to the dorm to write down a few musicians’ names. Tonight is quite a bit hotter than the night before. I think I will listen to some music to take me away from here for a bit and slather on some wonderfully poisonous Mospel.

Last workshop at CEAD

I taught the last session of my classes at CEAD. The students wanted me to stay another week, but this is it for now.Afterwards, I hung out at the dorm and started listening to my Sindhi music collection to find voices that I feel could fit well with the sections of “Risalo”. Some voices seemed to clean, others to muddled. While each of the voices is beautiful, I want to find voices that have the rich texture that only folk music has, while maintaining the emotional impact of the poetry and also making sure it works on an audio basis even for people who can’t understand the words for longer sections of poetry.It felt good to listen to such rich voices. I wrote down names and possible Surs (chapters) that could go well with them.

hanging in there

Another day, another class taught. I came back and did some work, waiting, hoping to hear news of this other Latif poetry expert who might be able to help transcribe the original Sindhi verses based on the Urdu translations I selected.Shahid sahib picked me up and we head to a spot to shoot the sunset. I need some sunrise and sunset footage of landscapes here, but without the insane amounts of trash and plastic bags littering every inch of land. For that, we had to drive a bit away. We both took cameras. It was fun to get out to one of the not quite developed spots. Soon it too will be covered in plastic bags.For now, I found some spots where I could capture the stones and sand hills. It was fun to just get out and do something as opposed to struggle and fail. Though I have allotted time for this work, the time is not meant to be spent just waiting and not doing work. The more I wait, the less time remains to do the actual work. I am trying my best to use the time as best as I can.Afterwards we grabbed some faluda ice cream, which makes me happy. We had some dinner at his place afterwards along with Javaid Solangi. It was good to just hang out and feel like a human being instead of feeling like I am in limbo.

typing woes

Shahid sahib picked me up early for class, and I ended up figuring out the Sindhi keyboard issue before my class began. Things were looking up. I got Solangi sahib’s phone number.There was a weekly meeting and discussion on Shah Latif’s poetry at Shahid sahib’s place, in the evening so I head there. I understood the first part of the discussion in Sindhi, but once we started on the passage of the day, I was completely lost, so I just read my Urdu translation to myself and bided my time.At the end we all said goodbye, then Solangi sahib and I went inside to start typing. I thought this would be great. We could more or less paste passages, relieving Solangi sahib of a lot of the tedious work. Once we got started though, we hit many more road blocks. For one, each addition of the poetry includes and excludes different Surs (chapters), so we found a pdf version with the chapter we needed.Then we noticed that there were different numbers of verses and a different order. This is apparently common. So how do you find the corresponding verses? The original Sindhi language is old and challenging for people today. The Urdu verses are a poetic translation of the meaning. We spent hours trying to find the first verse. I really appreciate the enormous help, but I also felt very disheartened at how difficult each step is. We could not find it, but Solangi sahib called an expert friend who knows the verses and is familiar with this translation. That he offered to give us two hours of his time the next day, was hugely generous. That Solangi sahib is still undeterred and willing to trudge on with this is also incredibly kind. Everyone is busy with their lives and responsibilities. Who am I to come here with my weird projects, and yet people help me.I had already spent two months on finding puppeteers. The only reason it took so long, is because my first puppeteer contact did not want to connect me to any other puppeteers in Multan, so I instead of going there right away, I needed to find another contact. None of the arts organizations that I was able to speak to had any numbers and the one that did, does not give them out. What a mess.I can’t tell you how many leads I have followed. I filled a notebook with contacts and leads trying in every way I could to find puppeteers. Then when I found them, there was the challenge of sifting through people who were real puppeteers, and those just looking to make a bit of money as I was paying people to show their work. There was the whole dance of trying to not get cheated and get the info you need. It was physically and mentally draining, and none of this had to do with the enormous task of adapting the source material, which I had undertaken before even coming here.So, every step of the way, I struggle to make plans and backup plans, and find the right people, with help from so many friends, and yet despite that, I hit so many brick walls along the way. The creative aspect was understandably challenging, but so many of these other steps really should not have taken this long or been this challenging, but that is how my work in Pakistan has been. I am tired of reading the news back in the US, here in Pakistan and around the world about all the horrible tragedies and crimes that make my “suffering” pale in comparison.The puppeteers and Jogis often tell me that their prayers are with me. For that and all the people trying to help, I am endlessly grateful. I couldn’t sleep most of the night, as I weighed options, tried to figure out ways to keep moving forward and reminded myself that this can be done and is worth doing.

First day of class at CEAD

CEAD truck art inspired benches

paperwork

I started my first day of workshops at CEAD. Shahid sahib picked me up and we were off. The class was filled with 3rd and 4th year students. There is a lot of beautiful art in the courtyard, created by students, including these truck art themed benches. I gave the usual intro to my work, and process behind my short film, along with suggestions on how to use local culture to support it, and present it in new ways in your work to set yourself apart. As usual, students are pretty unresponsive in the beginning, which makes it a bit of an uphill battle to get through the class.You just have to trust that you are giving them something useful. I assigned some character designs for homework, then met the VC and with Shahid visited a friend of his who was interested in what I was doing and willing to help me transcribe the original Sindhi verses that correspond to what I had put together based on the Urdu translation of Shah Jo Risalo for my film “Risalo”.I went home and rested.

Typing up the Risalo script

It was Sunday, and I had just started typing the Urdu verses for the script the night before. I spent the whole day typing verses and notating cross references. Thankfully the page numbers I had written from the previous edition were almost the same, just 8 pages off, so it was not difficult to find the verses.I typed the whole thing up with a few naps in between. The electricity would go frequently, and through the sweat, I kept typing until it was done. Afterwards, I had some dinner and went to sleep.

typing surs

Meeting in Hyderabad and Funkadelic Bus

I had made plans to visit my friend Ustad Amb Jogi at Radio Pakistan in Hyderabad to discuss the music for “Risalo”. It takes a while to get to Hyderabad from Jamshoro via bus, so I thought I would try a rickshaw. Not a good idea.The rickshaw took at least as long, and went much slower. We stopped for gas for 20 minutes, then to make repairs, got stopped at a check point and the driver had no papers. It was quite a ride. Eventually, I got there and it was great to see Ustad Amb Jogi. After the roughness of the past week, he was a much needed friend.We grabbed some delicious lunch at a dhaba near by. The fish, karalai, and more fish were really good. I am even more strict on the bottled water thing now, after that last experience in Umerkot. I just don’t have the time or energy to deal with that.After lunch, we head back to the radio station, where we sat down and discussed the vision for the music. Ustad sahib gave me a bunch of names that came to his mind. Basically, we need to find people that can do the task of reading and performing poetry in a form and order that I have put together and fit into my budget. There is a lot to do, but having Ustad Amb Jogi on board is a huge relief.Afterwards we set aside the work talk and just caught up. It made me really glad to hear how with his generation in the family, they had gone from centuries of being wanderers like gypsies and had now settled down and focused on educating their kids. Many artists, including these Jogis and the puppeteers I met in Multan have had to face these drastic changes in their sources of income due to changes in how society consumes entertainment. Ustad sahib lacks literacy, but from a young age he focused his energy on becoming the best musician possible.Afterwards, I walked down the street to Hyder Chowk, to look for a few books I needed for “Risalo”. My copy of the Urdu translation was left somewhere, during all this crazy travel. Thankfully, I kept good cross referenced notes, so I can find all the stanzas of poetry I referenced, but I need that book. I checked one store, and they claimed that no one had that book. That seemed odd. I walked over to the book selling street carts in front of the building and the book seller assured me that he could get me several options.He offered me tea, then walked off to get the books for me from nearby shops. I waited, and watched the mad traffic around me. He came back with a few books. The same translation had been published by a different publisher as well, but I really wanted the same one so that I could reference the page numbers I had noted to find the bits of poetry I had chosen for the film.I also wanted a proper Sindhi version, as Ustad sahib and I had discussed the need for a script for both all the Urdu text and the Sindhi original verses so that singers could start learning them and working on it. That was my next task. After a couple of rounds of searching, I remembered that the publishers of that book were in the building upstairs across from me. I did not want to cut the book seller out of his commission either, but I needed to see the books myself to make a selection, so I let him know and walked up to the book shop telling him that I would just pay him whatever commission he would charge for the books. He was very nice and we had met briefly once before.Shah Latif’s poetry, upon which my film “Risalo” is based is huge. There are so many books on his work. Some contain partial verses, some contain a ton of commentary and explanation. I found the Urdu translation I was looking for easily enough. Next I needed to find a copy of the original Sindhi version that best matched the translation I was working from in terms of containing all the verses I needed.Since I don’t really read Sindhi, it was challenging. I found huge tombs filled with commentary and smaller sections of verses. I kept looking until I found an edition that was almost entirely verses and decided to pick up those two books. I got a sweet 40% discount from the publisher, then walked out with these huge books to the book seller on the street.He was very nice about it all. He did not want to take any commission for books he had not sold me, on principle. We sat down and drank some tea together. We got to talking about a few other books, and I ended up picking up a couple from him that sounded interesting, including a book of his own poetry, which I will need someone to read to me.I picked up a cheap, used digital camera from shopkeeper who seemed intent on not selling anything. I think because I was wearing traditional clothes, he assumed I was just looking and not going to buy. Weird, but hey, I pass as a local. What an honor to be treated like crap like a regular old local. At least the price wasn’t raised. I did not have the heart, or frankly the funds to buy a camera like the one I had, so I got this one.I hopped on a crazy neon bus to head back to Jamshoro. The bus would stop every few moments and start shaking. The lights would go out. One time, a woman panicked and tried to get off the shaking bus. The conductor spent about 10 minutes calming her down, reassuring her that we would get back.The inside of the bus was more decorated than most. We chugged along and somehow made it to Jamshoro by nightfall. I hopped on a rickshaw from there to get the rest of the way home. The rickshaw driver was a wirey guy, with jamming tunes. It was actually a lot of fun after all that other mess. Once we got there, I thanked him for the musical ride and head inside to rest.

Umerkot to Jamshoro

In the morning, Hosh Mohammed sahib dropped by and I had some breakfast. Every morning these kids bring me tea from their homes and replenish the water in the little out house/bath house for me. Sand is always blowing around in the wind so I get filthy pretty fast. Bathing over and over is pretty common. Hosh Mohammed was so kind, that he had taken my filthy clothes and had them washed and returned them in the morning.I can’t thank all the people I have met in Umerkot enough for their kindness. Though I did not have the information I needed, they tried their best to help me, and I am thankful to Fatah sahib for connecting me to them. From a work standpoint, this leg of the trip really messed me up, so spent most of the previous night awake trying to get my focus back. It has been a grueling trip. I have been very fortunate to have good people trying to help, but there is, as expected, so much that I must do for myself, and in regards to my work, coming to Umerkot was a foolish decision. I really felt like I needed to track down these puppeteers if there was a chance, but communication with my friend was impossible, and so was finding these mysterious puppeteers. I ran out of time and energy that is really needed for creating the project. Now I needed to regroup and pick myself up.Hosh Mohammed head to work. I got ready then called to see if the mandir visit was still on. There had been a death in the family, so that was off. I grabbed my bags, and walked through the dust storm, about a mile to the intersection, just like everyone else there does several times a day to go to work or school. I rode a qinqi to the bus to head back to Jamshoro.Along the way, my camera got picked from my pocket, and I lost all my photos of the previous week. I really need to get my stuff together, because it is really hard to keep a project going like this. Hoping for some willpower and the always welcome support of friends.I returned to the hostel and my friend Hisam encouraged me to go wash up and have some food. A good friend can certainly help cheer you up. I spent the afternoon writing, looking at family and friends on facebook to escape for a while and just resting.

Day in Umerkot

I sat around for most of the morning and afternoon resting and counting the hours. I felt pretty miserable about the trip. I really appreciated the kind people, but I had come for work, and I felt stressed that all I had done was over extended myself, fallen sick and grasped at straws based on half bits of information to try and find something that there seemed to be no sign of in the areas. I felt very foolish.Thankfully my stomach was feeling much better, and I felt less weak. I got tired of sitting around and decided to go to the city. My friends were at their jobs, so I walked about a mile in the perpetual dust storm in the area to get to a qingqi, that took me into the city. I passed Shakil sahib’s print shop on the way and made a mental note of its location before reaching Allah chowk, where I had arrived. I head over to the fort and checked out the museum which had been closed the previous time I went. It has some beautiful miniature paintings, calligraphy and a few displays. All the other architecture in the city is contemporary, roughly put together buildings with nothing much to say about them, so it was nice to see a glimpse of history. It is nice to see all the Hindu women walking around town with their traditional clothes, and bangle covered arms. There were several mandirs around too, but based on experiences in other cities in Pakistan, I would rather go with someone local to not cause any security fears.I walked over to Shakil sahib’s print shop as he had invited me to drop by the day before. He was out, but I sat for a while with the kids who work there. I had met them the previous day as well.I waited for about 45 minutes, then decided to be back on my way. About ten minutes later, the younger boy from the print shop rolled by on a motorbike (I am amazed at how little these kids are) and said Shakil sahib was calling me over. He drove me through back alleys to a tuition center that Shakil sahib had recently opened.We sat down and chatted for a while. He kindly got some fruit for me. He asked if I would like to do a little art lesson with the children and I said yes. I ended up showing the kids how to draw a little boy out of simple shapes as I have done in the past, as they followed along. Then I transformed the kid into a hygiene free little monster which gave us a chance to laugh and talk about the importance of hygiene. I would say that the kids were ht hilite of the day, and I felt a bit human again, like I had something to do.Shakil sahib’s cousin agreed to take me to the large local Shiv mandir the next day when the winds were quieter in the morning before I caught my bus to leave. Shakil sahib himself took me to visit a Hindu friend of his, with whom we sat and talked for a while.Afterwards we went back to the room, where some friends were waiting for dinner. Everyone was speaking in Sindhi, so I just sat on one said and killed time playing carom on my phone as I find myself doing over and over these days. Eventually more friends arrived and we enjoyed an amazing feast. I went to sleep shortly after that. My friend Sugarr sahib was out on his second night at the dargah celebrations, performing with his music teacher until early in the morning.

Sadiq Faqir Dargha

In the morning, I took some medicine that I had kept with me and ate some fruit. I felt pretty down, after the struggles of getting to Multan and the bit of relief in finding people, regardless of the challenges ahead who were puppeteers, and now I wondered why I was in Umerkot. The people were incredible. They are the example of kindness and friendship. I was beyond honored to be in such wonderful company, but my problem was that I was running out of time to do work, in just searching for what I needed to do it.I rested for most of the day, then Sugarr sahib took me to the musicians. They were performing at the dargah of Sadiq Faqir that night. I didn’t think I had the energy to stay up late for the music, but I needed to at least see the mela in case there was a chance of meeting someone or seeing something that could be related to any traditional puppeteersSugarr sahib took me all the way out there. We watched some beautifully decorated horses racing. Afterwards, we walked through the mela or fair. There were rides and a sort of side show along with stalls filled with food and sweets as well as toys, but the toys were more mass produced, plastic toys, so no luck there.Afterwards, I caught a bus back into town, where Sugarr sahib’s brother was so kind to pick me up and take me back to where I was staying. I felt pretty defeated and wondered what I was doing. I planned to leave the next day, but some other visitors dropped by and asked me to stay for a dinner the next night. I agreed, as they were so kind to me.

Ustad Shafi Faqir

The next day, one of Juman sahib’s sons, Mohammed Sugarr, who is a talented singer, kindly took me to his music teacher, Ustad Shafi Faqir. While waiting at his music space, I met some other musicians and students. I spent the day there, waiting, listening to practice, drinking tea, ate lunch, and also got to enjoy Ustad Shafi Faqir perform several pieces. He spoke to me at length regarding the subject material “Risalo” is based on, namely the poetry of Shah Latif and in particular the musical component to it. He also shared a lot about himself and his music. Again, the conversation began with, no knowledge of puppeteers and ended with that as well.I wished that I had more information from Fatah sahib, but heard nothing. The friends in Umerkot were all graciously asking around on my behalf. It was tiring, in the desert heat. The town is small, but is a rarity in Pakistan, with a Hindu majority population. There are still many muslims living there as well, but the positive relationship amongst the people there was really heartening. The hospitality on the part of my hosts and everyone I visited was humbling as well.Sugarr sahib took me to see the local fort and then a small monument to the birthplace of the Mughal Emperor Akbar. We visited a printer friend, Shakil sahib and a barber shop. People were very kind in calling their contacts to try and track some information down regarding puppeteers, but none recalled seeing any.I spent the night back at Juman sahibs’. The room I was outside of is kind of a club for the community, with people living in homes at some distance behind. This keeps the privacy of the community and allows guests like myself to hang out in front. I must have had some bad water or something, because my stomach was a mess all night. I suffered pretty bad.

Off to Umerkot

It took about two hours to reach the Badin bus stand in Hyderabad where I needed to catch the bus to Umerkot. From there, the bus had trouble starting and I marinated in my sweat with all the other passengers as we waited for an hour. Eventually we were on our bumpy way, and I got to Umerkot hours later feeling pretty dirty.Once there, I contacted Faazal sahib. He said he would be by. I waited a while, then called back after standing with my bags in the street for 20 minutes. He told me he was trying to find someone’s number to have me call. This happens a lot. There is a communication gap and it’s not a language thing. I asked him where he was, and just hopped on a rickshaw to get there. I sat down, met him and a few other people.He didn’t seem to know what I was looking for and as Fatah sahib had not told me what he had discussed, it was unknown to me. It became apparent that he only knew that I needed help with something. I told him about my search for puppeteers, and he made some calls. I was connected to Juman sahib, a well respected, elder in the community, connected to all things culture and literature. He had kindly opened his doors to me and agreed to see me.I was whisked down the way to him. We ended up spending the evening in a little room/shack with several people dropping in, including his sons. I asked about puppeteers. Everyone agreed they had no idea about that. Everyone discussed many interesting things about the local culture and community for hours. We enjoyed some food and then once again, it was confirmed that there was no knowledge of puppeteers, but based on the bits of info Fatah sahib gave me, that I shared with them, they would ask around.They put me up for the night, and his sons took good care to make me feel at home. I slept on a charpoy in the desert, under the stars, with dogs fighting around me, but the night was beautiful and I had no idea if anything could be found. I did not hear back from Fatah sahib, from whom I hoped to get a number of someone who knew a former puppeteer who now worked at a shop in Salamkot, which it turned out was another 120 km or so from there.

Waiting

The next morning, I waited and eventually was picked up by Ammar to see Fatah sahib. I ended up spending the day at his home, enjoying the company of his kids, who have grown up quite a bit since I first met them. It was nice, but the whole day, I was waiting to see Fatah sahib, as an endless line of people came to see him. I took a nap for a bit, then waited some more and before I knew, it was night and he had announced that he was getting ready to leave.There is a lot of time spent waiting on my end. It is difficult, and I am often trapped, dependent on others for information. In the case, the challenge is that I only have half bits of information, yet I have to see if there are puppeteers in Umerkot and call it done one way or another to move on. I have spent almost 2 months just looking for puppeteers. This is completely outside of the time needed to actually sit with them and musicians to create the film.I ended up getting a ride back to the hostel, as Fatah sahib was busy. I was disappointed and had hoped to get some of those phone numbers and names that he was trying to get for me, but even sitting in his home all day, I was not able to get through.Back at the room, I washed my clothes, then called the contact that Fatah sahib had given me the day before. I made plans to go see him.

Jamshoro return and the oppressive heat begins

Those last 6 hours were grueling. I had to go back to my seat, and could not sleep. It was difficult to get the guy next to me to keep somewhat in his space (meaning occupying half of my space) and it’s no fun to sit next to filth marinated in sweat. The bus would have been fine otherwise.I was very grateful once we arrived in Hyderabad, and grabbed a rickshaw in the beautiful early morning to Jamshoro. My friend Hisam, once again opened up his room to me. I met his brother and a friend who were studying hard for a law exam. I slept a bit, then got to work making plans for my project. Many steps require finding the right contacts and information before proceeding. This can take time but is essential to getting things done…eventually.I feel much better, having met some competent puppeteers and established relationships with them. The project is still a massive undertaking and logistically and artistically very challenging, but some steps are becoming clearer and that is basically how this stuff gets done.I went for friday prayers with Hisam’s brother. We walked from the hostel. It got hot quick. After prayers, we stopped in to Hisam’s home for lunch. I enjoyed a delicious meal and wonderful company. Hisam and his younger brother are both amazing artists and I got to see some of their in progress miniatures. It was very inspiring. We picked up some fruit on the way back to the hostel and I refilled my phone and internet balance.The heat is oppressive and the mosquitos are relentless. I slathered on some mospel and chugged a 1.5 liter bottle of water while working on blog posts for the next few hours. I also managed some refinement on storyboards for the peacock and snake sequence of the film. Listening to the poetry and watching the animatic always reminds me why I am doing all of this. It really helps me to keep going, because it is the working blueprint of what this film can be if I can pull it off.At night, Hisam called me for dinner and we went to a University function related to a recent Syndicate election. It was in Sindhi, so that’s as much as I can tell you. I was happy to see a number of friends. I listened to a 40 minute scolding in Sindhi from on of the election winners directed at the entire audience. I felt like someone hadn’t done their homework and we were getting yelled at about it. From the bits I could make out, it was about the challenges and political divisions in the University and a desire to bring about change, and someone didn’t do their assignment and we were all writing lines for it.Afterwards, having paid the price, we ate dinner. The men descended upon the food tables like wild, ill balanced beasts. The food was quite good as we hovered over buffet tables to snatch up food as it arrived. There was a music program after, but my hosts and I were tired, so we head back to sleep.It is a huge relief to be back here, having met puppeteers with enough accomplished to begin work on music and various other daunting tasks. Being here in Jamshoro, I have the support of wonderful friends, so if this can be done anywhere, it is here.

Multan to Jamshoro

I shared some of the completed videos with the guest house staff as they were interested in what I was doing. It was nice to see them recall puppet shows and enjoy the ones I had recorded. I created a little one sheet for Sadar and his group so that I can put it in the Multan Design College. This way the students have his contact info to hire him as well as a link to the video I edited of the show at their college.I called for a rickshaw from the campus front gate, but none came, so I lugged my bags down the street and eventually got to one. I put my things in there and head to the Multan Design College, to see Azam sahib, and hang out until it was time for my bus. It was nice to relax for a bit, eat some good food and say thanks. Once it was time, I hopped on a rickshaw with my bags and head to the Daewoo station.Once on the bus, I realized that the passenger on the seat next to me and I were not going to fit easily on our two seats. He was large and sweaty and wasn’t about to close his legs. So, I sat on the seat behind us for as long as I could, nodding off and getting sleep for bits on and off, until several stops in someone had that seat number. The people around gave me dirty looks.

Another day of visiting puppeteers

I finished the reedit of the longer performance by Sadar sahib’s group, and I have to say it is much better and went from 18 minutes to about 11. I went to meet Sadar, and we took off to the area where there had been a death in the family a couple of days before. This community is also in Multan, just a bit further out.We got there and met several puppeteers. Mostly they really were not good. This was supposed to be the day when I would see the master puppet maker’s work. The puppeteers and their families certainly do talk themselves up. Specific puppeteers really are good, but all that talk gets very exhausting.

After recording several people, I really wasn’t feeling it. Two of the “puppeteers” were literally just pulling the strings and clearly were not skilled. This really annoyed me. The puppet maker, as I was already aware was in Karachi, but we visited his home. I saw two in progress head sculpts made of wood, that were quite nice, but apparently his collection was with him. These puppet sets are their treasure. They don’t sell them. These are for performances, and this is their heritage and livelihood. I did see more puppets that made it clear that they were not all hand me downs and that there were indeed puppets that had been created in the last couple of decades at least, but there is a severe lack of puppet making going on and of this group there is only one that actually continues that part of this beautiful art.After another day, where there was little quality and I felt like I was handing out money for nothing, I got annoyed. I told them that these were not proper performers. I did not wish to waste time and money on people who were not able to perform. If I did not want to be inundated by everyone looking to get paid to pull a few strings, I knew I needed to put my foot down and I did. This was it. The last day to see puppeteers before I head out to see others in Sindh. I explained how showing substandard puppeteers, even for a directory of puppeteers would not help to promote them and their art. There were several people that I was supposed to meet, but there was more talk and little sign of the actual work. I was very tired of this and let them know.We ended up heading back to Sadar sahib’s neighborhood with a senior puppeteer from the area we had come to visit as his puppets were there. He showcased a few nice pieces that I recorded and we called it a day. It’s challenging, but important to push back on stuff, otherwise you’ll be inundated by crap. Anyone becomes a puppeteer when there is some money to be made, but thanks to the recordings, I can select the ones that are best.I went back to the guest house exhausted and a bit dejected, but at least I felt like I had found some good puppeteers amongst the batch. Now on to the next mountain of tasks. I began making arrangements for my next stop.

More puppeteers in Multan

I tried to salvage the missing edit, without any luck. After a few errands, I went and met Sadar sahib to meet some more puppeteers. We had planned to go to an area near the bypass, across from a hospital, but there had been a death in the family the day before, so we visited people in Sadar’s neighborhood instead.

I spoke to several puppeteers, and made recording amid the chaos of children, livestock and running around. Some people were skilled puppeteers, others just kind of showed up to get paid. This was challenging. It really does no good to document people who aren’t very good at their skill, and nor would I plan on working with them. It was difficult to control that situation.

The puppets vary in quality, size and beauty, but they are the same set of core characters and they all perform the same bits of one larger performance. The quality of narration and music varies as well. I was chiefly concerned with the quality of performance with the puppets. I was not concerned whether the puppet was beautifully painted, or severely aged with peeling paint. It was all about the movement.

It’s tiring to go to all these places, talk to so many people and then make the recordings, but I appreciate that I could even be there thanks to Sadar sahib. I went home tired and treated myself to a kulfi ice cream shake before beginning the arduous task of reediting.

Back to Multan

Zafar sahib and Parmodji graciously dropped me at the bus stand and I began my journey back to Multan. It was March 23, a national holiday, commemorating the Pakistan Resolution. Along the way we past a few melas, or fairs, and these were the very traditional small town kinds with the wooden rides, toys, trinkets, snacks etc. I would have loved to stop in, but the bus does not stop near there. I would have to backtrack an hour or two to get there from Multan. I knew I needed to get back to do some editing on the puppeteer videos. That is one of the challenges of a working trip in that there are things that I would love to enjoy, but I really have to get these tasks done or this monumental effort to make this film will not bear any fruit.I got back around noon and spent the next 12 hours editing, subtitling and working on putting together videos for the puppeteers’ promotion. I learned some wonderful things about the importance of creating your own backups with Final Cut Pro X. The current version has an option to save a snapshot of your timeline. The auto backups are…not the most reliable. In any other program, I constantly version up and thus save multiple versions of files, but it is a bit annoying that the workflow of some programs discourages this. I had edited, subtitled and titled all 3 videos, when I lost the larger video edit. Needless to say, I went to sleep a bit defeated.

Um...Faisalabad?

The next day, I had to catch an early morning bus to meet a visiting friend in Faisalabad. While the campus is beautiful and away from the bustle of the city, it can be a challenge when on foot. I had to walk several miles before I found a rickshaw early on a sunday morning. I was worried that I would miss my bus. My legs were tired and I was covered in sweat by the time I reached the first rickshaw. I hopped in and we went for a bit, before the rickshaw sputtered to a halt. It ran out of gas. Once again, I was on foot, hurrying to the bus stand. If I missed this bus, the next would be late in the afternoon, and I would lose the day with my friend. I kept walking until I found another rickshaw to take me the rest of the way. Thankfully, I made it with 5 minutes to spare, and hopped on the bus.

Hours later in Faisalabad, I was picked up by Zafar sahib who was hosting my friend and some other guests who were coming in town to commemorate Bhagat Singh, a freedom fighter from independence movement from the British. They would be visiting his birthplace the next day, but I could at least see my friend Parmod Sharma ji who had come all the way from India.It was a bit of an odd day. It was fantastic to see Parmodji, whom I had not seen in 5 years, and don’t know when I might even get the chance to see again. His sweet daughters had made cards for me. I remember how naughty and cute Saba and Sana were from 5 years ago. The day itself consisted of press club visits and other manners of more talk and less seeing. I was embarrassed at the display at the press club. The other visitor from India had been visiting for the past 30 years and had worked I was told on peace building efforts. The “journalists" at the press club asked lots of dumb questions ranging from Veena Malik, to questions about things that only Indian Government policy and military people could answer. Similar to press conferences I have seen in India, while the cameras are rolling you see "journalists" asking their "zinger" questions and feeling satisfied and smug about it while wasting a real opportunity to connect people. It makes very clear to me that politicians and “journalists" such as these ones are equally a part of the problem.They have the platform to ask the real questions, to help clear up bigoted notions and strive to uphold accountability. Instead they used their platform and access to play games and posture. At the same time, the guest had nothing to say but, that the problem was all in Pakistan and that India was blameless of any possible wrong doing. No information was to be gained from either of these parties.

I felt that Parmodji, who stood up and only spoke for a few minutes had much more value to bring than all the other people in the room combined. He simply shared that politicians are on both sides would continue to do as they did, but connecting the general populace was in his opinion the key. He shared a few specific examples of how he was contributing to this effort through his organization Yuvsatta and the annual Peace Festival they hold which brings students from Pakistan and other countries to Chandigarh, India. When people meet and interact, then they can connect and find their common ground and love for one another, away from these politicians and “journalists" who are clearly on their own agenda.

We visited a library afterwards, from where Parmodji and I slipped out to walk around the city, to enjoy the clocktower, sites, bazaars and people of Faisalabad. We walked around for a while, then hired a rickshaw to take us around for an hour. There was not much to see, but I guess that is because Faisalabad is more of an industrial town, known for cloth . It was previously known as Lyallpur.

At night, Parmodji and I went out to run some errands, then came back and had some daal for dinner at Zafar sahib’s home. There was a nice mushaira (poetry recital) going on in the drawing room, which I attended for a bit. People shared some beautiful poetry, and I particularly enjoyed the Punjabi poetry. I would have stayed longer, but I was exhausted having been up and about since 5am. I went to sleep.