A visit to the United States
THEATRE:
I was given a visit to the United States of America - a brief visit
of about one month - sometime during 1975. That program was called an
International Visitors Program - a rather prestigious sounding one.
These visitors were chosen from various fields of life such as
politics, medicine, engineering, research and the arts etc. That
particular year the nominee from the arts was me.
To the best of my knowledge the nominees in the arts field were
selected by the United States Information Service. We had a charming
lady - Miss Diana Captain - in the service of the local U.S.I.S. at that
time. She was a great lover of the arts.
She seldom missed a new play or a new film in the local circuit. She
had been nominating my name for this visit [she told me later] over a
few years and it was only in 1975 that my name received the approval of
the Prime Minister and the Foreign Office.
PLAYWRIGHT: Tennessee Williams
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So, to begin with, let me begin this rather interesting episode in my
life, with a fistful of thanks to Miss Diana Captain. [I am not sure
whether this Visitors Program is still prevalent with the American State
Dept.]
As a first step in this Program I had to report at the State Dept. in
Washington. Generally we - the nominees - were asked to state briefly
our preferences of activity during the visit.
We were asked what we would like to see, where we would like to go,
whom we would like to meet etc. Among other preferences I had mentioned
that I would like to meet two very special Americans - special to me -
personally, if such a meeting was possible.
And the two Americans I wanted to meet were Tennessee Williams, my
favourite American Playwright and Joan Baez, my favourite American
singer.
Of course there is no promise from the State Dept. or the U.S.I.S.
here that all our requests will be met. What the State Dept. does is to
draw up a program for just over a month [including travel time]
accommodating our requests as far as possible and giving us a chance to
see at least a few important cities of America.
And so when I presented myself at the relevant office in Washington,
I was told that apart from Washington, I would be visiting other places
such as New York, San Francisco, [The Fisherman's Warf] Los Angeles,
[Disneyland] Denver, [from where I could visit the Niagara Falls] and
Hawai. I was to spend a few days or a week at the most in those places.
It was a very interesting program.
In New York I was to visit at least a few theatres, meet a few
theatre directors, make a tour of some of the Film Studios, make a visit
to a community theatre in Harlem and see at least one play in the famous
Broadway.
Finest train ride
The very next day, if I remember right, I was sent to New York by
morning train. That is one of the finest train rides I have ever had - a
typical American experience. The train was fairly full but the bar,
which I accidentally bumped into, was quite full and rather nicely
boisterous!
Of course I did stop at the bar to sip a couple of beers and enjoy
the fun. It was a long ride of, I think, about six or seven hours. I was
met by some official at the New York railway station and taken to a
place called the Taft Hotel where I was to stay about a week.
The Taft Hotel [I am not sure if it is still there] was one of the
old lodging places of New York and I noticed later that some of the air
line staff was provided with transit accommodation there.
That evening I was free to walk about a little bit but remembered a
notice in the hotel room that guests had better not take the risk of
walking alone in the nights and had better return to the hotel before 9
p.m.
In any case I am hopeless at remembering street names etc. to find my
way back and stuck to the straight road making mental note of a few
landmarks. That too is a bit of a tough task in a crowded city like New
York where most high rise buildings look alike.
My room did not face the street, but a triangle of an inner yard,
with all kinds of junk on the ground and from seventeen floors up, that
was not a very inspiring site. I made a mental note to ask for a better
room with a better view, the very next morning.
The next morning some official from the State Ministry came along and
took me out on a kind of sight seeing tour of New York. He showed me the
Statue of Liberty, the Manhattan Islands, the Bridges, the Beverley
Hills area etc and took me to a modest restaurant around mid-day for an
'intimate' lunch.
He chose a corner table with soft lighting and offered me a menu card
after ordering for some sherry or some such thing. I forget the man's
name now [I have lost his card] but somehow he behaved as if the entire
State Dept. was run on his shoulders.
In turn he treated me like the person on whose shoulders the entire
Culture of Ceylon rested. I believe it is a calculated strategy of the
dollar-oriented capitalist world.
The attitude contrasted sharply with the sledge-hammer kind of
courtesy and greetings one comes across in a Socialist [Communist]
country.
Both had their own attractions but one could very soon sense the
'artificiality' of both attitudes.
Special friend
Whatever that may be, during lunch that officer told me that I should
contact him if I needed anything. "Anything!" He stressed. Then he
selected very carefully a card from his wallet - as if he was dealing
with gold or diamonds - and placed it on my palm equally carefully. "You
can call me anytime, day or night. I am here to look after all your
interests. All the time."
He repeated. "All the time ?" " I queried with feigned surprise.
"Good Question." He responded gravely. Then he retrieved the card he had
placed on my palm. He took out a gold fountain pen from his inner coat
pocket and wrote something on the reverse of his card very carefully -
once again as if he was dealing with gold or diamonds.
"I have written my home number on the reverse side of my card here.
Call me anytime, if you need anything. Night or day. If you are not
happy with your accommodation, if you want to meet a special friend, if
you think your allowance is insufficient - just call me - any time."
The official stressed looking gravely at me - as if I was the biggest
dignitary he had ever had to deal with. "Thank you ever so much indeed."
I responded, genuinely moved by this man's concern.
"I don't think it will become necessary to worry you in that manner.
Your Government is treating me extremely well. Too well in fact. I am
grateful to you." I added, warmed by a bit of sherry.
"It's my pleasure, Mr. Jayasena. It is our duty to look after our
honoured guests." The man was beaming. "I just wonder whether you could
fulfil just one of my dearest wishes."
I began with reluctance. "Of course I can. I am sure I can." He
enthused. "Just tell me." He was beaming even more. "I would LOVE to
meet one person in your country.
A man I adore. A very special person as far as I am concerned." I
managed to say. "It couldn't be the President himself, could it be ?" He
winked at me. "No, certainly not", said I. "Who, then ?" was his next
animated question.
"I would very much like to meet a very special playwright of your
country - the cleverest, the most sensitive and the most poetic of your
playwrights." I ventured. "Good Heavens ..!" Said the officer. Actually
he did NOT say it. It just escaped him. He heaved a huge sigh. "Never
mind. Let's have his name." He added throatily.
"I would like to - even for a brief minute or two; if it is at all
possible - I would like to meet your man ...Tennessee Williams." I
finally managed. Very slowly. Very carefully.
I realized immediately that the poor man was nonplussed. It looked as
if all his sangfroid had gone down his toes. His face nearly fell on his
plate. I felt sorry - I felt extremely sorry for this poor officer.
After all he was just a Govt. Officer like me at home.
Silly request
"I made a silly request. Please forget about it." I was quick to add
after wetting my throat with a sip of sherry. My man too sought the help
of a bit of sherry. He sat up straight in his chair.
He retrieved his chin from his plate. He took another sip of sherry.
"Not at all." Said the partly recovered man. "No sir, your request is
not a silly request. It is in fact a very reasonable request. In fact I
would like to meet him too, myself - although I am not a man of the
theatre."
He adjusted himself further. "The trouble, my dear Sir, is that
nobody knows where he is. I don't think even he knows where he is!" He
concluded as if he had just won a battle.
"That is the truth. He is never in one place. I don't think he even
has a home. Nobody knows about a family either. He is a wanderer. A
vagabond, if you like. Just like one of his characters in one of his
plays. What's the play.."
"The Glass Menagerie." I prompted sadly. "Right. That's the play. He
is like - what do you call him - he' like Tom in that play. People say
that Tom is actually Williams. That he had projected himself in Tom."
The man sighed deeply. "That is exactly why, I wanted to meet him." I
said even more sadly. "Even for a moment."
I staged that play in my country, in my language, in 1966. And I
played the character of Tom. I can't get through even a few pages in
that play without choking. It is so beautiful. So sensitive. We staged
it the very next year, in 1967, in one of our Open Air stages in our
foremost university.
There wasn't a single dry eye in the audience.." I went on in a
sudden rush of emotion.
"That's incredible." Murmured the mesmerized officer. He had been
taken totally by surprise. "I have some notes in my pocket which says
that you are a dramatist and that you have staged one of the plays of
our man Tennessee Williams.
But I was certainly not aware that it is the self same play and that
you had played the part of Tom in it. I am doubly sorry that I am not in
a position to fulfil your request. I am really sorry, sir." He held my
hand in a tight grip - a gesture of appreciation.
"You did this play in 1967 ?" He asked me. "We did it in 1966 in
Colombo. It was in 1967 we had that university showing." "I was ten
years younger then. I was not this bald at that time. So, I managed the
character of Tom fairly adequately.
The part of Amanda - you know the part of the mother - was played by
my wife. I went on to add. "But that's incredible.!" Emoted the officer,
totally taken aback.
Thought of the week
November 23 was my dear wife Manel's birthday. She would have been
70, if she was alive. It has been two years and four months since she
left us.
I have still not learnt to cope up with her loss. Whenever I go to
see a play, attend a wedding, meet friends etc., I still feel she is
beside me. My thoughts are very much with her this week.
They say it is not good to keep thinking of the dead because it
disturbs their onward journey in Sansaara. I wonder if that is true. How
can one desist from thinking of someone who was so beloved ?. In any
case the mind is so recalcitrant that it does not always heed the
dictates of the head.
Wherever she is I wish her peace, contentment and health with all my
heart. That is if she is already born among us. If she is in some
Heavenly abode, my wishes might be redundant. I believe beings [?] in
such a state are always at peace, that they are content and that they
have no health problems?
I miss you very very much, my Dearest.
[email protected]
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