The drama team of the BBC World Service Trust in Nepal is currently preparing a second series of the highly successful radio drama Sweet Tales of the Sarangi, which deals with transitional social and ethnic issues following over a decade of conflict. Here, Fiona Ledger reports on a recent location trip to eastern Nepal in which the team visited partner radio stations, auditioned actors, and encountered political protests. Read parts one and two here and here.
Thursday
Leaving Panchthar for Ilam; a fine day with less mist than usual. About 30km into our journey, we came across a Limbu road block marked by thin red tape. As international press we have no difficulty in being waved through. Behind us they attempt to stop a motor bike but it accelerates away stopping further down the road to talk to us – the female passengers explains at length why they certainly had no intention of paying.
We decide to go back and talk to the Limbu. There are 6 of them – all wearing Rambo type bandanas, and carrying kukuris (Nepalese national knives), even the 12 year old. One has an earring and a stick for banging the ground like a policeman. Another has a receipt book. We point out that there was an agreement with local government not to collect tax. They say they are not asking for tax but only for voluntary support. Deputy editor Kedar Sharma remarks it doesn’t look very voluntary when everyone is carrying kukuris .
A Limbu volunteer at the roadblock
A mini van approaches the roadblock and the volunteers do a lot of posturing and scowling. The driver stops and pays 20 nrp (about 15p). He asks for a receipt. The volunteers now say they only give receipts for 50 nrp or over. The driver gets upset and starts to shout. We watch, taking photos, and quietly senior producer Deepak Rauniyar gets the Marantz out to record.
This slightly puts the volunteers on the spot and they grumpily hand over a receipt. A bus slips past as they hand over the receipt to the mini van driver.
Deepak points out discreetly that there is no carbon paper in the receipt book. A small detail, but it means they can go home at the end of the day and claim ‘Oh we had a bad day – only 300 nrp.’
We visit Ilam FM, a BBC partner station. It’s housed in a neat and colourfully painted house, decked out with pot plants and perched on the hill overlooking the town and the tea gardens. Prakash Gandharba, the main actor and character in our drama, is interviewed about his life in a weekly profile programme.
The drama team conducts auditions with the staff. It’s going to be key to any storylines set in the east that we are very careful with our casting; we’ve followed a policy of ‘no impersonations’ when it comes to ethnicity – so we take an ethnic count of would-be actors: three Rai (of northeastern Nepal), one Newar (of the Kathmandu valley) and a Brahmin man. They all prove to be good actors – one particularly self assured in her improvisation. We’ll need to find more Limbu actors, but for now we record our auditions with who’s immediately available.
Auditions in Ilam
We leave the hills for the Tarai stopping off at the unremarkable but busy town of Charaali in Jhapa district to meet a woman who produces and presents three radio programmes for kanchanjunjga fm. She even edits them at home; all the while running the house and bringing up a family. Two of them are for children, the other is aimed at married women. Alcohol and infidelity are major preoccupations.
Friday
It’s back to Dharan for more auditions. Two young women in particular stand out with a strong improvised performance, based on the idea that one of the girls (both Rai) is in love with a Limbu. It turns out that in real life one of the girls is in love with a member of her own clan which is forbidden. The quiet pain that underpins her performance is very real.
Auditioning for the drama, eastern Nepal
Saturday
Now we’re on the home leg. We’re told we can cross the Koshi river towards the south but the sand banks built over large pipes are crumbling and lorries are grounded tipsily in the sand. This is it I think – we’re finally going to come unstuck. But now our excellent driver, Jeevan, paces out the spur of sand on foot and reckons with an empty jeep he can get across. And he does.
We follow on foot, then spend the next 90 miles or so dealing with the final challenge of the journey: the Tharu bandh (a kind of transport strike and protest).We are held up repeatedly by road blocks, each are marked by piles of stones and felled trees and attended by bunched crowds of people ready to argue.
Again our strategy is verbal negotiation; Kedar and Deepak talk to the big men behind the protest and listen to their grievances. They are pacified by the fact that the BBC is interested. Once we’re nodded through, Prakash leaps out and moves boulders. Sushama and I wave sweetly as we can at desperate faces.
Finally we leave the highway and make our stop over in Hetauda – at the magnificently shabby Orchid Resort, the plushest hotel to date – at least it has hot water and nice big clean towels. It’s only been a week on the east-side, but it feels like a year.
