After a good deal of rest, we head over to NCA. Hanan sahib and Naveed sahib helped us clean our computers with a small blower. It was like a mini version of a leaf blower. To think that it took so much effort to get to this point. Partly because I was looking for the disposable kind, only to learn that that does not exist here and then it took me a while to learn what was used instead in Pakistan.With that information, a simple call and the kind folks in the multimedia department at NCA graciously helped us out. I felt like the computer is a bit better, but it is still heating up a bit on one side. I really need this machine to work through the end of shooting this film at least.It was nice to go to NCA. There were a few students around for evening classes. Security as always was notched up even higher than my previous visit and it makes me sad to see how much it has had to increase over the years.There was even a check waiting for me from my time teaching a few months ago. I needed to get the check opened in order to cash it. I went to several offices, only to be turned away. It is amazing how little some folks at these government jobs care about their work. I dress very simply so they really look at me like shit. Every little step of the way here can often be a dehumanizing process, and I think that is equally true for these office workers who then continue that vicious cycle. You need to go through someone that cares enough to try and help you get what you need done. These same people that gave me a hard time, would probably fall over themselves to cater to their personal guests.For me, when I walked into the second office I was sent to, with the paperwork required from the accounts office and asked about opening the check, the guy just looked at me. Then another guy comes into the office, grabs me by the elbow to turn me around then looks me up and down with this look of disgust, which is probably his default expression. These are the day to day steps it takes to accomplish the most minimal of things. I speak in Urdu, I dress simply. I can only imagine how much worse it is for others. To me, this is the rot at the core here. There are so many external and internal issues going on here, but at the most basic human level, the ability or willingness to do your job with a reasonable amount of care and to speak to people as human beings regardless of their perceived value to you is severely lacking in so many places.Each person asked why I was given a check, and I explained that I taught there. Then they kept repeating that I should open an account here. I explained that not being local, I could not and they past me down the line. Eventually I came back to Hanan sahib and he kindly took the paperwork and agreed to take care of it as the office workers had sent me back.In the evening, Kristeen cooked our first meal here. We picked up a bunch of vegetables, spices and fruit and a had a nice meal at home. Even making breakfast in the morning was a nice change from grabbing things outside. I relaxed and read the book on Rajasthani puppetry that she picked up for me in Delhi. It is quite fascinating to see how people have tried to piece together the history of this art form. I can only imagine how difficult it was to find anything that could be called an actual fact. Oral traditions are strong, but historical accuracy is not. Certainly not in the case of the puppeteers I met in Multan.The stories do have some common elements that leads one to believe there may be some facts amid all the legends. It seems that this form of puppetry can be traced back to the time of the Mughal Emperor Akbar. There are stories of Muslim and Hindu puppeteers. The court puppeteers were Muslim and they made their puppets from papier mache. They complained about a Bhat puppeteer who had not learned the art from any master and still dared to be a puppeteer for the general public. This fits in with the idea that specific tasks are delegated to particular groups of people and handed down through the generations.The Bhat puppeteer was called to the court, but gained the Emperor’s favor when he recited the Emperor’s geneology in poetic verse. A contest was arranged, and a puppet from the court and one from the Bhat puppeteer was suspended in a well for some time. The paper mache puppet from the court disintegrated, while the Bhat’s wooden puppet emerged more beautiful from being immersed in water.It’s a fun story, and there are bits that indicate other aspects to it as well. For example, the book mentions that puppeteers continued to pay tribute to the descendants of a Muslim family of someone who had taught them this art. This wasn’t something imposed on them, but out of respect and gratitude for sharing what was a sacred art. The way that puppeteers look at their puppets and art is with great reverence. This was true in Multan as well. Modern commercial needs have eroded away this sentiment, but I think it remains, however diminished.All examples of stories told through this puppetry seem to be about the same as what I recorded in Multan. A king’s court opens. Dignified guests enter and a multitude of trick puppets are announced and perform one by one, with short comedic skits. Sometimes the king is Akbar, or Shah Jehan or the same story revolves around Amar Singh Rathore. There were some puppets mentioned that I have not seen, but in terms of detailed storytelling, there did not seem to be any hard evidence to suggest that it was a part of past performances. People mentioned that it was, but could not be verified. People say a lot of things.