Shatila, The play and my opinion on it

On the 5th of April, part of Key Stage 4 and 6th Form went to the Saville Exchange to see the production of Croak, The King and A change in the weather. Performed by the children of Shatila, the story centers around a corrupt king who has never left his palace and who always gets what he wants. The story starts off with the king and his queen in the throne room when the king demands his dinner. The servants cannot deliver his food because of a sudden snowstorm that has hit the land. The king, infuriated by this, sends his soldiers to get rid of the snow, but they fail in the end, and so his assistant, Croak, sends in a girl who has a connection with the spirits of the weather. The girl decides to help the king, but only if the king gives her a reward. The king just says yes and waves her off. The girl, with the help of the spirits, gets rid of the snow (in the form of a dance) and asks for her reward. The king denies this accusation and sends her off. This scenario plays out another two times, with fog and ice (with ice, instead of him not getting his dinner, it’s him not having his royal bath) happening respectively, and after the third time, Croak tells the king to imprison the girl and execute her. The king agrees and sends her to the dungeon to be executed the next day. During the night, the Queen goes down to the dungeon and frees the girl, telling her to escape. She does and decides to take her revenge by sending the three weathers mentioned above to happen all in a single night. The people awake in a panic and the king is angered by the fact that he cannot get his food and have his bath. He decides to take Croak and they go out to get rid of the weather all by themselves. The story ends with them failing but both alive and well (note: the ending of the play differs from the ending of the book with the same name). After the play had finished, the children of Shatila changed into their native costume and did a dance from their home country played to the beat of one of their native song. All in all, it was a relatively good play, though a bit repetitive, but the dance afterwards was my favourite bit, probably because it had so much feeling and emotion in it. The transition was quite good as it was not jumping from scene to scene all the time. The props used were very well thought up as, for the weather, instead of confetti or a fog machine; they used a sheet (snow), a net (fog) and cling-film (ice), for the food instead of plastic food; they used a painting, of the food, on a board of wood, a bit different than usual but it worked. Costumes and choreography were designed and planned out with expert designing and careful preparation, as the designs of the costumes represented the actual character they were playing and the dance used in the “spirits getting rid of the weather scenes” were quite dramatic. Again, through it all, a good play, if repetitive, but a good play none the less; even though to me personally, the dance afterwards was a bit better then the play itself.

Shatila Play

On Tuesday 5th April, a group of us went to the Saville Exchange in North Shields to see some children from the Shatila Theatre Company performing a play called Croak, the King, and a Change in the weather. It was a simple yet engaging story about a king who never left his home and always had everything brought to him, until one day when changes in the weather stopped his servants from getting his food. I don't want to give too much away in case anyone reading wants to see it, but the king certainly learnt a valuable lesson about how you can't always have everything your own way. It was a lovely performance, and I was very impressed by the children. They were all Palestinian refugees aged around 12 and 13, and despite a limited knowledge of the language, they performed the play entirely in English. They spoke clearly and expressively, and seemed quite absorbed in their roles. The representations of the weather were lovely, using dance and coloured sheets of material (for example, blue for rain, clear for mist). After the play, the children performed a beautiful traditional Palestinian dance. They wore traditional costumes and had smiles on their faces all the way through. I think that's probably what was best about their performance: their enthusiam. In conclusion, this was a great experience.

Zip Wire

On Wednesday, I went on the zip wire. As we walked along to the outdoor activity centre, I felt very excited. I love heights: I get a huge kick out of them. However, when we got there, I started to feel nervous. It was very crowded; there were people all around getting harnesses and helmets. Our group got helmets, and waited for the Centre Parcs staff to help us with harnesses. My helmet felt strange on my head. It was uncomfortable around my ears, but I knew I would much rather be uncomfortable for a while then go up without a helmet!

After a while, a guy came to help us with our harnesses. When he got to me, I was very anxious. This was a stranger. A stranger had to touch me. If you know a fair amount about Autism Spectrum Disorders, you will realise how difficult this realisation was for me. As the man helped me, he chatted casually, and I was painfully aware of my wide eyes. I wondered if he could see my hatred of his touch in my body language, and whether he was offended. He obviously knew, for example, that Jasmine couldn’t climb a ladder. You can see a wheelchair, but you can’t necessarily see an Autism Spectrum Disorder, and I often worry that strangers might take my antipathy towards touch personally…but I digress.

Once we were all ready (physically), we headed out to where the beginning of the zip wire was situated, not all of us actually ready (mentally). When we got there, the staff went over the health and safety rules, and showed us something we had to do to our harnesses, at the end, in order to get down. Here, I had another thing to worry about. There was a lot to remember. We did get to practice, though, which soothed my nerves somewhat.

Jack went first in our group. He was very eager, but when he’d finished, his face was completely white. We all cheered when he went. It looked amazing. So it went on, person after person going in the little tower, climbing up the ladder, and coming out hanging onto a string and dangling their legs in thin air. The one thing I wish I hadn’t done is waiting so long. I should’ve gone sooner, so I didn’t have time to get scared.

Before I describe my own experience, I must mention Abigail’s. Abigail is petrified of heights, but she was determined to face her fear. Before her turn, we were all saying daft things like that they should push her if she got scared. Then when she actually went, she did get scared. She stopped about halfway up the ladder. I was very worried about her, but eventually, she did make it all the way to the top. Then she zipped off and she was fine. In fact, she was ecstatic afterwards, and I understand why. I think she was very brave.

A little while afterwards came my turn. I felt fine going into the tower, but as soon as I saw the ladder, I was terrified. I knew it was firmly attached to the wall, but for some reason, I felt as if it were a rope ladder just hanging from the top. I began to climb, but about halfway through, I panicked and climbed over onto a nearby ledge. Angie, Mrs Saunders and the man who had helped me with my harness all talked to me, trying to comfort me.

I was petrified, but after a while, I took a deep breath and climbed the rest of the way up the ladder. When I got to the top, I was still terrified. My breathing was hard and fast and I was clinging to the edge for dear life (or that’s how it felt at the time, although I couldn’t possibly have fallen to my death). I was convinced that I couldn’t do it…for a few seconds before I did it.

The funny thing is, the scary part wasn’t the actual ride across. All the bits in between were much worse. As soon as I stepped off the ledge, I screamed out in excitement. It was brilliant. A few seconds earlier, I had been terrified. Now I was elated. I also screamed right at the end when it stopped.

Now came the complicated manoeuvre to get down. For quite a while, I was too scared to let go of the rope. I felt like I would fall, even though I knew I wouldn’t. Eventually, though, I let go and got down. Going on the zip wire was difficult, but it was great, and I think if I went on again, I would be less afraid.