My dancer Jacqueline Mitchell and I arrive in Algiers airport for a big dance festival to see huge queues at immigration – hmm. Then I hear someone whisper her name. It is the head of airport security – he takes us through a side door bypassing all the police checks. Here is your British Embassy driver and your British Council Guide, the fantastic Dris Abdelhafid. Straight out to the British Embassy car (four tonnes of armoured vehicle with a siren on the top!) and we are whisked of to the Algiers Hilton. This is the kind of arrival I like!
Next day we arrive at the Palais de la Culture to set up the show. Mr Madjid Hadjaz has the important box for Jacqueline to dance on (½ square metre of space is all she gets to dance in). Worry number one – what will Algeria make of the rather minimal costumes of the dancers both virtual and live? Mrs Fatiha Kaddouri, Commissaire of the Festival, gives Jacqueline the once over and then the thumbs up. Phew! Three o'clock and we are ready to go, but there are only 10 people in the audience. Let's give it five minutes I tell Jacqueline in the wings. By five past three, another five people have arrived – shall we just start? I ask. No, wait, more people are coming. At quarter to four they are still pouring in, while the ones already there are singing and doing turns. One person refuses my red/blue 3D glasses – he has his own polarised ones. They won’t work I tell him. Yes, he insists, these are much better than your coloured ones – he will not be persuaded. In the end I tell him to wear both at once for twice the effect! Hey ho.
Eventually we are given the green light and start the show. Despite the odd mobile going off (which is then answered!) and some flash photography, J performs immaculately and the audience loves it. That night in the main theatre where we go to see some of the other companies I realise how well behaved and engrossed our audience has been – now the packed audience are heckling, shouting out, there are millions of flash photos, people are having full blown discussions during the performances – it is like a circus but somehow there is something endearing about it. Maybe the pin-drop UK dance audiences could lighten up a bit??
Then we're off to the big dinner of the festival with all the other companies, and with a fantastic Gnawa band with seven singers playing krakebs (enormous iron castanets) which was one of the highlights of the trip!
Worry number two: are we going to have to spend four days without alcohol? (I am Scottish after all!). Jacqueline and I eye the dinner tables festooned with Fanta and mineral water in despair. Luckily Martin Daltry, Director of BC Algeria, spots our concern and magics up some bottles of delicious Algerian red for us. Phew! After another show and workshop Jacqueline and I sadly have to get urgently back to the UK – she has 30 ballet students about to take their first exam and I have premiere of new piece at the Wapping Project – tragically their last ever show! Unfortunately we are scheduled to appear on the big national TV breakfast show, Good Morning, Algeria, sitting on the breakfast sofa with the presenters. As we are getting onto the plane we hear that the resourceful Mr. Daltry will be stepping in for us. On the plane J and I agree four days is not enough for beautiful Algeria – we will be back!
Three days later I get a text from Dris. He is at the closing ceremony of the Festival and he and Martin have just been up on stage to collect an award for us – we have won the Prix du Jury! Happy days.
