For the event itself, we planned to have an alternative fashion show, where everyone would dress in clothes made from garbage, or things we usually throw away here, like nylon, paper and plastic, as well as giving the local elementary school kids an opportunity to get up on stage with a microphone and read environmental poetry that they had written. The mask parade that the preschool traditionally holds on April 1st had been cancelled at that time due to cold weather, so we decided to incorporate that into the event. Having the little kids march from the preschool to Kladenec would be halfway across the village, and my hope was that it would bring more attention and sweep everyone along with them to the event. The time that the event was to start was 5 minutes to noon - Jasminka�s idea to show the seriousness of the environmental conditions here. (The symbolism of this is the same as our concept of the �eleventh hour�.)
I wanted to seize this opportunity to have a town clean-up, as well. We planned to collect some garbage and spread it around the town center, to reinforce our slogan. It was on the agenda for the day before the event, but the end of the day came and I was told we would do it the following morning because the dogs would tear up the trash if it were left around. When I was told also we would we painting the stage backdrop the following morning, that was a little bit too much for me. I suggested to Jasminka that we not wait until the last minute, because in my experience waiting until the last minute ensures that it either won�t happen, or will be of a lower quality. There is no way that the fabric would have dried in time, and we had other things scheduled to handle in the morning, like setting up the stage and organizing the order of speakers. Also, I am not exactly famous for getting up early since I have been here! She agreed with me and after the main meal of the day, ruchek, she and I returned to the office at 5 p.m. with a giant blue fabric backdrop and three cans of spray paint. I was so nervous to do the lettering, afraid I would screw it up somehow. But miraculously, we finished the backdrop an hour or so later, after drawing a little crowd of interested onlookers in the doorway. Ecstatic about our work, we left it safely locked in the bottom of the building on the concrete to dry.
Before going to sleep, I ensured that my costume was ready, including a tin foil necklace with bread ties and rubber bands hanging down from it, and a wine bottle cork fastened in the middle with an unbent paperclip. I had planned to wake up around 7 the next morning. I awoke around 6, and looking at my clock with relief, I turned over and went back to sleep. Some time later, I awoke coming up on 8:30. Disgusted with my alarm clock, that still displayed the little alarm clock icon, innocently, as if it hadn�t betrayed me, I bolted up and went to shower, dress in my garbage bag costume and do something interesting with my hair that involved some glitter and numerous bobby pins. Disappointed with the overcast sky, brisk wind, and imminent rain, I wondered if we would be rained out. I headed on down to Kladenec only a couple of minutes late, expecting to do some trash clean-up.
Instead, I found myself in the center of a rapidly accumulating madhouse. When I arrived little kids gathered outside began shrieking my name. Some of the older kids just smirked and talked among themselves. But, I thought, they�re here. As some helpers from the nearby Culture House began to set up the stage and backdrop for us, a mass of children holding bags of costumes flooded the steps and the downstairs of the office. I sat upstairs with Jasminka and other members of our organization, busily stringing together plastic 2 liter bottles to dangle from the balcony above the stage. Nikola and Gabi arrived and started practicing their scripted lines to kick off the event. Gabi donned the dress I had made her, similar to my own, and thanked me.
Kids began running up and down the twisted staircase and barging into the office. I asked them numerous times to please wait downstairs, and tried to enlist Jasminka�s help in making a sign to say the same, to post on the office door downstairs, but she felt that the children wouldn�t read the sign in the first place. I thought that was a little odd, but as the day proceeded, it began to make more and more sense to me. It wasn�t so much that I didn�t want to see them or answer their questions; rather I really just wanted to maintain some sense of order. It weren�t as if they were knocking; they were running around, shrieking, and provoking me repeatedly by creeping up the stairs and then running away when they saw me, after I asked them politely to hang out downstairs until we were ready. Some of them arrived two hours early and wanted to bring the chaos into the office, whilst we still had a lot of work to do to prepare. Looking out from the upstairs window, I observed that a large number of adults had gathered, and were standing around looking at the stage and our large banner, waiting for something to get started. The sound man arrived, set up his speakers, and began playing Macedonian songs. The feeling in the air began to grow more jubilant and festive.
As the time for the parade to arrive approached, I made my way downstairs a couple of times. BAD idea. I couldn�t even get the door open for all the people jammed on the other side of it. Instead of having the kids come in their costumes, or someone making an announcement for people to come in small groups inside to change into their costumes and then go out to wait away from the �backstage� area, everyone was just jam-packed in there with no instructions. I made a mental note - next time, the poster should say something about coming attired. Some kids were changing, some were just standing there, the doorway was jammed, and people were standing all over the place at the top of the stairs leading to the stage. I tried to get their attention and have them move in an orderly fashion down out of the way, under the guise that I wanted to take a picture outside, but that was a laugh. It was so loud, and everyone was going in different directions.
There was just no way. Even the adults who could have possibly used their vocabularies to bring a little bit of order to the situation, did not do so. I questioned whether even if I knew more words, whether or not anyone would be able to (1) get the attention of the noisy crowd and (2) if anyone would actually follow the instructions. As I could feel my blood pressure rising, I tried to remind myself that apparently I was the only one bothered by the situation. I tried to ignore my thoughts of Fire Marshals and stampedes and no one paying anyone else a bit of respect, and look at it more as an experiment, an interesting cultural demonstration. I forced my way outside where one of the most senior of our members, a doctor, was asking some kids to move from the stage area so we could finish decorating with some garbage that someone had ended up gathering from someplace. They said something to her, and she turned to me and shrugged ruefully as she walked away. This is the women who taught the segment of �Techniques of Domination� at the �The Women Can Do It� Gender Task Force Seminar six weeks ago! The boys remained leaning up against the wall. I had a flashback of when I was living with my host family, and the ridiculous negotiations that used to take place between the parents and the two-year old son.
I started thinking about the way people function within structure. Here, there were absolutely no boundaries, no expectations on what anyone was supposed to do. I approached the boys, and pointed away from the stage area. In English I shouted, �I�m not asking you - I�m telling you! Go!� Hatefully they glared at me, but they did go, just a little ways, preparing to edge back. Whether or not they understood my words was irrelevant; my body language said it all. As I escaped back upstairs to relative calm, I thought, if no one wants to take control of the fact that no one is waiting in front of the stage, that people have questions and there is a total lack of order, and no one is interested in my suggestions about how to more efficiently run this shindig, then fine, let�s just see what happens.
It also occurred to me that laws and rules here don�t always seem to apply to everyone. Sometimes you can get by on who you know, or who you are. I figured that was probably why children, when told to do something, still hopefully or apathetically hung around doing whatever they had been doing before, hoping that the chaos and distractions would provide them a safety net from having to follow the rules. I grinned terribly, thinking of how I would have felt when I was working at Milhous Childrens� Services (such a pleasant name for a top level residential psychiatric facility for adolescent boys) had the staff not backed up their instructions with action, enforced the rules without exception, and followed through with appropriate behavioral consequences.
I think that is all kids need - to know the limits of what they can do and have that be consistent. I have seen plenty of the results of consequences being enforced inconsistently or unfairly, or just the lack thereof in general. In my host family situation in particular, there was a lot of yelling and screaming and threatening, with no actions to back it up. The son was appeased, all his desires acquiesced to, no matter how ridiculous. He never bothered listening to the screaming, or when someone told him to do something. He was in charge, and he knew it. But in this case, these are things that have to be taught from a young age. I wasn�t under any illusion that I could walk into this situation and start telling people what to do and have it mean something, nor did I appreciate feeling that I was in that role simply because noise and chaos are stressful to me.