My last adventure was a good example of how things can get out of control. If I hadn't had a ‘crew’ with me, I’m not
sure if I would have had the energy to survive. I filmed a moulid—a religious procession that ends in singing and
dancing. It was in a small village with tiny alleys and streets and I got caught right in the middle of the procession as
it was coming down this little alley. Men were waving swords and some men were sticking long metal skewers
through their faces!--(we're talking about body piercing to the extreme here!). The crowd was thick and I immediately
was swarmed and separated from Essam and Mohammad. People were fascinated by me (even more than the men
sticking metal skewers through their faces) and I became the focal point. Women were stroking me and pulling my
hair (not viciously—just out of curiosity). Some were trying to maneuver me into their houses (to have me as a
guest—not anything threatening--don't worry). The young man we hired as a driver suddenly became my bodyguard
(we had never met this kid before). Originally he was just along for the ride and didn’t care about what we were
doing—he sat around on the sides drinking tea—but he saw that I was in a critical situation and grabbed me and did
some crowd control and got me to a safer place to film. I was never in any real danger, but I’m not so sure how long I
would have been trapped in the mob if he hadn’t come to my rescue.
It was a great adventure, though. I got some amazing film. But it was also my most exhausting filming so far. I really
worked my toosh off. I was constantly running, some times running backwards while I filmed them coming towards
me. Sometimes jumping up on balconies to get a good shot over the heads of the crowd. And even the filming itself
was tiring. I would stand in a weird position hanging over a balcony for long periods of time until my arms and legs
ached. Sweat poured from my face. I’ve never sweated that much in my life. Essam would wipe my face with
tissues to keep it from going into my eyes and periodically held a bottle of water to my lips—I got so dehydrated from
the sweating. Something was happening at all times for hours and I pretty much kept the camera running the whole
time so I wouldn’t miss anything. The tripod was useless because I had to keep moving—so much was going on.
When it was all over (about 5 hours) the crowd became a frenzy again and I was being pushed and grabbed again.
Essam and I got separated, it happened fast while he was grabbing my equipment. I was the official guest of the
shiek, and suddenly his son grabbed me and shuffled me into an alley, through a door, and shoved me hard into an
empty room and slammed the door. I just crumpled to the floor, so exhausted. Suddenly the door opened and
Mohammad was shoved into the room. He, too, crumpled to the floor. We just looked at each other and didn’t say a
word—too tired. Then Essam, too, was shoved in. The crowd outside was loud and kind of scarey—even trying to get
in the window. Finally it died down a bit, but not much. The shiek’s mother came in (98 years old) and invited me to
spend the night (it was her house). Essam looked at me in horror (he’s gotten to hate my research adventures—they’
ve become a tiring series of travels—and I tend to accept all invitations so as not to appear rude or snobbish). But I
was filthy and tired and couldn’t wait to go home, so I declined. She cried. It was so overwhelming. She begged me
to stay. I kept hugging her and finally she accepted my refusal. Finally, we were smuggled through a back door and
through some back alleys where our driver was secretly waiting. I felt like a rock star or something. Suddenly the
crowd found us and surrounded the car. We slowly made it through the streets to the main road and off we went. No
one had talked until then. It was almost like we were all in shock—maybe just exhaustion. Then Mohammad looked
at me and said, “good, Cheri?”. (meaning the filming). “Yes, very good” I smiled. (very good indeed!--I got the most
incredible film).
I still can’t stop thinking about the whole thing. It was an amazing festival. One guy even ate a glass and swallowed
it. He was in a religious frenzy and proving that he was so close to God that he felt nothing. That’s what the guys who
were sticking metal skewers through their faces were doing, too. I also got some good shots of a women’s
gathering. An old woman was singing and playing the tabla and all the village women were sitting around her. Young
girls danced. It was great!
I can't wait until my next adventure!
sure if I would have had the energy to survive. I filmed a moulid—a religious procession that ends in singing and
dancing. It was in a small village with tiny alleys and streets and I got caught right in the middle of the procession as
it was coming down this little alley. Men were waving swords and some men were sticking long metal skewers
through their faces!--(we're talking about body piercing to the extreme here!). The crowd was thick and I immediately
was swarmed and separated from Essam and Mohammad. People were fascinated by me (even more than the men
sticking metal skewers through their faces) and I became the focal point. Women were stroking me and pulling my
hair (not viciously—just out of curiosity). Some were trying to maneuver me into their houses (to have me as a
guest—not anything threatening--don't worry). The young man we hired as a driver suddenly became my bodyguard
(we had never met this kid before). Originally he was just along for the ride and didn’t care about what we were
doing—he sat around on the sides drinking tea—but he saw that I was in a critical situation and grabbed me and did
some crowd control and got me to a safer place to film. I was never in any real danger, but I’m not so sure how long I
would have been trapped in the mob if he hadn’t come to my rescue.
It was a great adventure, though. I got some amazing film. But it was also my most exhausting filming so far. I really
worked my toosh off. I was constantly running, some times running backwards while I filmed them coming towards
me. Sometimes jumping up on balconies to get a good shot over the heads of the crowd. And even the filming itself
was tiring. I would stand in a weird position hanging over a balcony for long periods of time until my arms and legs
ached. Sweat poured from my face. I’ve never sweated that much in my life. Essam would wipe my face with
tissues to keep it from going into my eyes and periodically held a bottle of water to my lips—I got so dehydrated from
the sweating. Something was happening at all times for hours and I pretty much kept the camera running the whole
time so I wouldn’t miss anything. The tripod was useless because I had to keep moving—so much was going on.
When it was all over (about 5 hours) the crowd became a frenzy again and I was being pushed and grabbed again.
Essam and I got separated, it happened fast while he was grabbing my equipment. I was the official guest of the
shiek, and suddenly his son grabbed me and shuffled me into an alley, through a door, and shoved me hard into an
empty room and slammed the door. I just crumpled to the floor, so exhausted. Suddenly the door opened and
Mohammad was shoved into the room. He, too, crumpled to the floor. We just looked at each other and didn’t say a
word—too tired. Then Essam, too, was shoved in. The crowd outside was loud and kind of scarey—even trying to get
in the window. Finally it died down a bit, but not much. The shiek’s mother came in (98 years old) and invited me to
spend the night (it was her house). Essam looked at me in horror (he’s gotten to hate my research adventures—they’
ve become a tiring series of travels—and I tend to accept all invitations so as not to appear rude or snobbish). But I
was filthy and tired and couldn’t wait to go home, so I declined. She cried. It was so overwhelming. She begged me
to stay. I kept hugging her and finally she accepted my refusal. Finally, we were smuggled through a back door and
through some back alleys where our driver was secretly waiting. I felt like a rock star or something. Suddenly the
crowd found us and surrounded the car. We slowly made it through the streets to the main road and off we went. No
one had talked until then. It was almost like we were all in shock—maybe just exhaustion. Then Mohammad looked
at me and said, “good, Cheri?”. (meaning the filming). “Yes, very good” I smiled. (very good indeed!--I got the most
incredible film).
I still can’t stop thinking about the whole thing. It was an amazing festival. One guy even ate a glass and swallowed
it. He was in a religious frenzy and proving that he was so close to God that he felt nothing. That’s what the guys who
were sticking metal skewers through their faces were doing, too. I also got some good shots of a women’s
gathering. An old woman was singing and playing the tabla and all the village women were sitting around her. Young
girls danced. It was great!
I can't wait until my next adventure!
Subject: Body Piercing
