Na LaGa'at's "Not By Bread Alone"

I’ve been experiencing some writer’s block. It’s a reoccurring phase that pops up every few months in my life that I regularly acknowledge and accept. It always fades eventually. Unfortunately this time it coincides with the exact time I wish to be writing the bulk of a paper I’m working on – and what’s worse, one I am working on with other people. If my delays only affect myself, while inconvenient, they are not too disturbing, but when they potentially affect my coworkers, and I feel like I can’t break through it, it is more distressing. The other problem is that I have now seen a great performance three times, and have yet to blog about it. And it must be done. But I fear in my block I will be far from doing it justice. Well. Here goes. (I did just begin reading a novel today that seems to be starting the process out of the fog, so hopefully this will continue the trek up the hill back to ….oh, I don’t know, all my metaphors have left me.)

Two days ago, the Fulbright organization treated us to a fantastic night at the NaLaga’at Center in Old Yafo (or Old Jaffa). We had a delicious and plentiful dinner at Café Kapish, where all of the servers are deaf. As always, I felt more at home talking with the servers in the manual/visual modality of sign language than I do in my native spoken language, and I was thrilled to introduce all my new Fulbright friends to this part of my life and work. I always hope to expose people in my life to the Deaf world, and it was so great to see them interact with the servers, try out their hands in this new modality, and experience some success at visual communication. I relearned some signs I’d forgotten from the last time I was there (cappuccino, etc.), and also noticed a funny difference in conventional gestures.

Near the end of dinner, the servers presented a short lesson in ISL (Israeli Sign Language). As usual, when the Deaf teacher signed a sign, the majority of Hearing students just looked on politely, perhaps nodding slightly. And as usual, the teacher gestured for them to copy her. To feel the sign in their own hands, just like a French teacher wants you to practice feeling the word on your tongue. But the difference came in the gesture. In the USA, teachers wave their hands toward themselves with their fingers tilted sideways, in a circular motion, to indicate they want audience participation. This teacher put her hands out in front of her with extended elbows and her palms facing up, and then moved her hands up a few times. All the Fulbrighters (we’re a very cheerfully obedient and engaged crew, yes we are!) promptly stood up. I noticed several Americans at other tables do the same. The Israelis laughed, everyone resumed their seats, perhaps a little flustered, but hey, even the slightest exercise/movement and laughter are both beneficial for our brain’s learning process, so I say, “Well done”. :)

We learned signs for greeting, requests, politeness, etc. before returning to our coffee and dessert. I love watching new learners of a sign language. So many of the insights are the same, but they never cease to be endearing and exciting. What is that lyric from As Tears Go By? "Doing things I used to do, they think are new.”

Anyway, after dinner, we head into the theater to see the show, “Not By Bread Alone” performed by actors who are either deaf, blind, or a combination of both. Some of the actors were born deaf and became blind later in life, some born blind and became deaf later in life, some were born both deaf and blind. The play takes place in a bakery where all of the employees bake bread, a tiring but fulfilling process, and during the natural breaks of bread-making (while the dough rises, or while it is baking), dream about the past, present, and future.

http://www.nalagaat.org.il/home.php

At the opening of the show, the characters sit lined along a table kneading the dough, with faceless masks obscuring any individual features. They are just nameless bread-makers. As each introduces him or herself, sharing their deaf and blind status and background, as well as a fact or two about their personality, desires, or hobbies, the mask is removed and a unique and real-life person takes the place of the anonymous bread-kneader.

They each dedicate their loaf of bread to a people group (lonely children, pregnant women, etc.), and as the dough is set to rise, they welcome the audience into their lives of silence and darkness where memories intertwine with fantasies, and the sighted and hearing audience members start to enter a world that has hitherto surrounded them, but has perhaps remained unknown.

The lines are signed either by the actors or by an interpreter stage right, and are spoken in Hebrew by the same combination (although one actor also speaks a bit of Russian – an important segment of Israeli society). Above the stage there is a screen that displays the lines in Hebrew, Arabic, and English. When the script calls for simultaneous freezing or moving by all actors at once, the cues are provided by large bongo-type drums that produce air vibrations that I could feel even from my seat halfway up the audience seating. Blind actors are led very nonchalantly in their blocking by the interpreters when needed, and when the audience claps, they interpret this to the deaf-blind actors by tapping them on the shoulder in the same rhythm as the clapping. The light cues and sound cues are quite extensive, and greatly serve to set the mood for the various scenes.

In the first act while the dough rises, the audience learns of the character’s struggles and dreams. In the second act, while the bread bakes, a magician appears and brings these dreams into an oh-the-magic-of-theater reality. The performance concludes with, what else? A wedding and a feast! The bread is brought out, warm, crispy, and soft, and the audience is invited to the stage to partake and to talk with the actors and interpreters. (And when my family comes, this will also include my father walking around the stage in his own little world looking at the lights, wings, stage design, and standing downstage center counting the seats in the audience. ;-))

There is a lot to hear and see throughout the production, and I notice something new each time (why else do I love theater so much?!), and of course every time I rely less and less on the captions above the stage as my Hebrew and ISL improve, freeing me to take it all in deeper, as well as freeing my mind to consider the implications and messages that have been there each time. It is drastically different from anything I’ve seen in the states, and the different cultural takes on things left me pretty baffled the first time I saw it. I can hardly wait for my family to come visit in June. We are all involved with theater, and I look forward to “debriefing” with them. :)