No, because…

A wise improv friend of mine, Keren Gudeman, observed that one of the benefits of the “yes, and…” approach is that it gives the word “no” real power.  On those rare occasions when “no” must be said, the word stands out and is emphatic and intentional. It means something, as in “no means ‘no'” and “what part of the word no didn’t you understand?”  This doesn’t mean “no” has to be punitive or sadistic or exasperated, not at all, but saying “yes” as a discipline gives gravity to this other word that has become reflexive and weightless.  There is an essential place in the world for “no.”

I had a very stringent lesson in “no” today.  The Fulbright Office in Pakistan was crystal-clear on the travel restrictions that come with this grant.  I can’t travel on my own, not even to walk a block or so to the shopping center (Super Market) near the Fulbright House.  If I go with the drivers–and I have to go everywhere with the drivers (who are wonderful)–I need to get permission from the Fulbright Office who, in turn, needs to check with the US Embassy about security threats.  I was warned, advised, prepared, and consulted about this policy. I was not hoodwinked.

Which is why I really can’t be upset that today’s trio of plans was squelched. I was going to go to the Heritage Museum, but it’s Kashmir Solidarity Day and a demonstration is happening in front of the museum. This map may be illuminating:

Likewise, the alternate plan to visit some hiking trails in the Margalla Hills above Islamabad was nixed because I have to avoid public places. To be fair, I have been approved for a visit to a restaurant in the Margalla Hills tomorrow night after my first improv workshop, so I will get to see these trails up close.  Besides, Javed has fed me so extravagantly I doubt I’d have the stamina to heft my girth up the trails without an oxygen tank and a pack mule for my dignity.

I was approved to see the Pakistani movie “Cake,” but just not for a weekend night.

And so I had lunch at the United States Educational Foundation in Pakistan (USEFP) and had a really nice time.  The conversation was wide-ranging and interesting (theater; the value of reunions; cultural misunderstandings; life as an expat; helicopter parenting and the role of student affairs staff members; overly cautious security restrictions; our current president; their current president; the uses of yogurt) and, again, I was moved by the hospitality of my hosts (“have some tea!” “more tea?” “tea is good for your digestion!” “you don’t like tea?”).  I was made to feel welcome and I lingered long beyond the lunch hour.  The biryani (with mint yogurt) reminded me of the incredible late night street food I’d eat after teaching classes in Yangon, and no one would accept my apologies for putting a damper on everyone’s appetite by sweating like a sponge after eating not one, but two, round chili peppers (“it’s nothing! Have more tea!”).  The picture below was taken 8 years ago in Dhaka, Bangladesh, but it approximates today’s lunchtime performance (and Bangladesh was, for a brief time, East Pakistan, so there’s that):

I had to laugh when everyone asked me what I thought of Pakistan.  I’ve seen about four blocks of Islamabad (including a popular Afghani restaurant last night where I had gorma sabzi and green tea) (hello, Caspian friends) and so my impressions are limited.  And, to be honest, I hope my faraway world here can expand beyond these rooms and the car. But being forced (very graciously) to slow down and stay put gave me a wonderful afternoon with some wonderful people whose company I would have missed had I been tearing around town with an agenda.

In improv, we talk about vertical versus horizontal scenes.  Horizontal scenes tend to be plot-driven with each scene member adding new information without developing much of the previous declarations. These are scenes–sometimes very funny scenes–that involve the pirates on Mars who speak French and have adopted Tahitian dachshunds that will become the dark overlords of a society that can only move on tip toe (someone, cut the scene! Please!).  Vertical scenes tend to be narrower in scope but they also tend to be deeper: by concentrating the focus on one moment the improvisers can explore and heighten what’s right in front of them. They don’t have to struggle to create activity.  The plot evolves organically out of the moment at hand. We can discover what’s right in front of us and don’t have to labor to create something outlandish. To clarify, the scene can become about the dachshunds, and that’s enough. So, I suppose today was some kind of vertical scene.  My focus was narrow, but really rewarding.

There’s a lot of really fascinating stuff in the four blocks between the Fulbright House and the USEFP office. Maybe I would have missed this stuff if I’d been hurtling past like I tend to do.  Ali pulled over and walked with me while I took these photos.  He’s a great chaperone.