Welcome to Lebanon ... Policemen stand guard in front of the Lebanese parliament building. Photograph: Hussein Malla/AP
Lebanon's parliament was supposed to elect a new president yesterday. Our rehearsal was delayed in the morning because several of the actors found it very slow to cross Beirut from east to west. Roadblocks, diversions and a military zone have been declared around the parliament building and the hotel where the government ministers are staying. Welcome to Lebanon.
I recently wrote that I was not so nervous about the security situation, but more about how the war last year affected all my friends here. A car bomb went off on the morning of the day I flew in. I heard about it from my wife in Edinburgh first, by text. So I began to be worried, but in a low-level way, the concern coming in waves. You can't sustain a mood of tension constantly, it's too tiring.
This gives me a small insight into the way my Lebanese friends and colleagues must feel all the time. I think the war last year has affected the country in two distinct ways. First, if your country is bombarded from the air, the after-effects may be similar to two pieces of shrapnel spinning off in opposite directions. One piece goes into negative-land (I notice several of my friends in a state of despair, all their creative spark gone) and the other into positive-land (for at least two people here, the shock of war has spurred them on to extraordinary creativity).
Two of the people auditioning for our project present absolutely extraordinary presentations of their personal reaction to the war - passionate, witty, detailed, personal, moving and accurate. I notice that some people are keener to identify their religious background - Christian Maronite, Shia, Sunni. There are 17 different sects in Lebanon. I remember on my previous visit in 2005 it was not done at all to ask someone about their religious background; now, it is offered as a definition of who they are.
From 30 actors we recall 10, and make the difficult decision to get it down to four, the number of cast members we need. On Monday we started the development, with an initial discussion about the origins of the play led by Saseen Kawzally. We ask them to begin building characters and place them in the situation of a house under bombardment. We try to find the social and cultural and political parameters of the characters, elderly farming folk who work the land, loyal to Hezbollah and part of the resistance. Questions of martyrdom will become key over the next few days.
It seems natural to be here. It also seems important, a story that can get out to Europe but still be owned by the people who it is about. Three of the cast come from the south. Not that this was in any way a casting requirement, but it undoubtedly helps the research and development of our work, Bint Jbeil, which is named after the town in the south that was annihilated last year.
Beirut waits, with a tense breath, to see what will happen. We work steadily on the floor to build a true intercultural collaboration, as the many walls and barriers, both cultural and political, continue on all sides to be erected.
