Panto in Iraq
In 1975, ex-pat Janet Lawrence starred in a panto in Iraq
Iraq isn’t a holiday destination. Wars, destruction and destitution have afflicted and vandalised the country.
But as part of the transient British community working there in the 1970s, we made our own social lives. At Christmas, we couldn’t deprive the children of that essentially British entertainment the pantomime. We opted for
Puss in Boots.
Wives and expat nurses happily signed up. The men were reluctant – many had jobs that took them away. But eventually we had our cast. I became Rollo, the principal boy (always played by a woman) – the only part left.
Other parts included Puss, his cat. Then there was Miss Decorum, the palace governess, also played by a man. The man playing the part of the town crier doubled up as Giant Crunchbones.
We had the perfect princess and found just the girl for the king’s voluptuous daughter. Others, including my 11-yearold daughter, Suzy, and our distinguished director, became maids and yokels.
Typewriters clattered to get the script copied and duplicated via Roneo. The fabric for the costumes, including ‘real fur’ for the cat’s costume, was bought from the local department store, Orosdi-back.
A dedicated team built and painted sets. At the nurses’ home, smoke issued from my friend Marge’s sewing machine as she tested its limits to get costumes sewn, including the amazing cat’s amazing costume. We had less than four weeks to rehearse.
Work absences of half the male cast – working in Basra, Kut and elsewhere in Iraq – meant other cast members stood in for them. The dress rehearsal was so bad that we had to go through it again on the morning of the show.
When the curtains opened that evening, we performed a panto within a panto. It bore only coincidental resemblance to our rehearsed version.
Unexpected things happened. A table laden with lunch plates crashed to the floor, just as Giant Crunchbones entered. The ample-bosomed governess pulled a chicken out of an Ali Baba basket and flung ping-pong-ball ‘eggs’ from under the hen’s feathers.
For the next evening’s ‘adult’ performance, three British nightclub dancing girls treated us to their exotic movements.
Still, the riotous success of the show attested to the fellowship between expatriates spending Christmas away from home. The children got their pantomime – and their Christmas was complete.