Arrival in Hewler/Erbil

Khwa le-gel, Suleimani, Chony Arbil!

Sorry about the missed day. Concert and post-concert festivities had us busy until late last night and today was a day of travel. This post comes to you from the Chwardra hotel in Arbil (that name seems to be used only in print; everyone seems to call it by its alternate name, "Hewler" or "Hawler".

Yesterday, of course, was the final concert in Suleimany. It was quite a marathon (one of the film crew called it "Wagnerian" in length). For logistical reasons, we decided to do one large concert of all the theater, dance and music programs together instead of two separate evenings. The result was one four-hour-long extravaganza.

We had a dress rehearsal earlier in the day. I gave the band a lecture about extra focus in concerts and we ran the pieces with touch-ups. After we were through, I told them what joy it gave me to work with them, how much I had learned from them, and how glad I was to have had the opportunity. I said I hoped that we would have more opportunities to work with them in the future, both here and in my home country. When the translator said this, they bowled me over with a shouted "inshallah!" (may it be god's will). I responded with an "inshallah" of my own and dimissed them with a "Al-Hamdu Lillah"-- an Arabic expression that literally means "praise be to god" but is used so frequently by everyone here that it seems to have lost its religious connotation. After the rehearsal I was mobbed by students wanting my e-mail address, photos with me, or just to hug me and cling to me (men are very physically demonstrative here). Tears in everyone's eyes.

The concert began at 6 with the hall packed absolutely to the gills. The hall seated 700-800-- we probably had half again as much. They tried their best with security but things were chaotic. Soldiers serve as ushers here. They actually locked the doors to the hall when the performance got started so no one could leave or enter-- a somewhat terrifying fire hazard. On the other hand, there's something to be said for having armed ushers-- a group of teenagers started getting rowdy in my section and a guy strode over and gave them a warning. Sometimes I wish we could arm ushers at US concert halls with automatic rifles too...

The childrens dance and theater was adorable, of course. The theme of the program was "You Can't Stop the Music", and there were several numbers from Hairspray as well as some other classics. The audience was ecstatic about everything; wild cheers erupted at every opportunity. Gene put up a bunch of jazz groups that ranged from an EXTREMELY laid back group of 7 blues guitars to to a rousing rendition of "Chameleon" on guitar, soprano sax and 'oud (the traditional Arab instrument) complete with hip-hop dancing. An amusing error occurred earlier in the program; it was so noisy backstage (and the sound system so poor) that the dancers couldn't hear what piece was being played and ended up coming out to a laid-back Coltrane number instead. They made it work okay-- it was hip-hop in very slow motion.

There were also a number of theater scenes in Kurdish, and a number of small dance troupes of varying ages. Talent level, as always, ranged from just this side of clueless to some really engaging stage work. The stage and sound system were not ideal-- no lighting system to speak of so we brought in a couple light trees and disco lighting. The sound guy was not terribly competent and didn't speak English so there were a lot of false starts. The audience remained enthusiastic about everything.

The hall was so packed that I was glad there was some attrition as the program went on. When we finally got to the band, about three hours in, we were down to a 90% house (as opposed to the standing room 150% house we started with.

The band gave me some nail-biters. Despite the lecture about extra focus in the concert, they still went wild in the intro to the Brahms right at the beginning and we nearly had a train wreck right out of the gate. Amazingly, the trumpets stepped up (they lead a chorale section about 30 seconds into the piece) and we managed to get on track. It was still a little wobbly but we got through. The trombones blasted the last note as loud as they could and I gave them a look that made one of them hang his head. I'm beginning to hone my "nasty conductor" skills.

The next piece was the medley of American river songs (Deep River, The Water is Wide, and Shenandoah). After wishing the audience "Ewaratan Bash" (good evening) I did a quick talk on the importance of rivers in America and Iraq and described what each song was about. The band settled down and did some nice responsive work in the songs.

Finally, of course, was the Danse Diabolique. Before we played, I brought Mr. Najat to the stage and asked the audience to appreciate the work he did with the Wind Ensemble. Appreciative applause, and I know he enjoyed the gesture. The band did a great job with the the piece-- as well as they had played in any rehearsal. Even the trombones managed to move from a monotone to two notes for ther solos. The piece has a rousing conclusion and the audience loved it. They jumped to their feet with raucous cheers and I managed to get a curtain call or two out of them. Backstage, the people from American Voices who knew the band were astounded-- they said they had never heard wind playing like that here. I was very proud of my guys.

Afterwards, Mr. Najat invited me to have dinner with him and the wind orchestra. It was nice to actually sit down and meet him for a bit. He lived in Denmark for 25 years (his wife is still there) and studied at conservatory in Poland. He also spent a year in Nashville. I know that he has been difficult for our organization to work with and perhaps has done some underhanded things; on the other hand, I have some sympathy for him. It was like this in China too-- in these kinds of settings, you must politically defend your territory like a dog, or you risk losing everything and sometimes you learn to be difficult and Machiavellian. I was glad to end the time in Suleimani on Mr. Najat's good side; if American Voices goes back there, I hope that he will allow his band to participate, and if we left him angry, he could forbid them from going.

This morning we traveled to Erbil, in considerably less comfort than the outgoing trip. Where we had a a caravan of air-conditioned SUV's and a security detail on the way out, this time we had two mini-buses with broken air-conditioning and a tendency to fill with exhaust fumes. No escort at all, so we had to stop at the various checkpoints. Usually when it was clear that we were a bunch of foreigners, we were waved through. At one point we were asked to show our passports, which was a bit of a nail-biter since we have technically overstayed our visas (long story, they'll be renewed tomorrow) but the guards glanced at the documents and waved us through. The translators traveling with us told us that most of the soldiers are totally illiterate anyhow, so they wouldn't be able to decipher the documents in any case.

The hotel here is somewhat nicer than Suleimani. I'm enjoying having real sunlight in my room, and a separate shower stall. Today was the first time in three days that I've been allowed to shower and change clothes, so finally I don't smell like sulphur. I still itch though (even after the bugs are dead you continue to itch for a while) and I'm on a secondary treatment, so I'm still smeared with with ointment.

Tomorrow we check out the site for teaching in Erbil.