Non-Festival of the Theatre of the Oppressed: CARAVANE Edition, Slovenia

Mažijev Grič, Slovenia — A Forest for Listening, Acting & Becoming**

In August, a caravan of young artists, activists, theatre-makers, environmentalists, and neighbors gathered at Mažijev Grič, near the shores of Lake Gradiško. Under the canopy of tall forest trees and the slow rhythm of rain, they came together for the 13th Non-Festival of the Theatre of the Oppressed, a CARAVANE edition co-organized by KUD Transformator, Zavod Bob, and the international CARAVANE Project EU.

This was not a festival shaped by spectacle, but a living experiment: a space where community was not described but practiced, where being right mattered less than knowing how to listen, and where climate justice was not discussed as theory, but felt as friction — between bodies, perspectives, and lived realities.

Where Do We Go When the Compass Breaks?

When feet were stuck in the mud, when thoughts spun in chaos, and when the social compass felt shattered, everyone needed a place to breathe again. Not to decide whether to move forward, but with whom and how to take the next step. Mažijev Grič offered that place. Its silence did not answer questions; it made space for us to hold them together.

Living Together as the First Lesson

The days began slowly, with the smell of wet leaves and the labor of community. Some mornings started not with theatre, but with soil — community farming at a nearby farm, where hands dug deep into the earth, challenging the idea that activism begins on a stage. Other mornings opened with shared breakfast, laughter steaming in the cold air, and the clinking of mugs warming chilled fingers.

Assemblies followed — first the Opening Assembly, then daily circles where decisions were made collectively. No one led permanently, and no one followed passively. Choices emerged from dialogue, trust, and sometimes disagreement. We learned that deliberation is itself a rehearsal for justice.

The Forest Becomes a Stage

As the day expanded, so did the creative work:

– Forum Theatre Laboratories took root beneath tarps and branches.
– Interventions in public spaces spilled from the woods into surrounding paths and farms.
– The question “How did the world come to be?” transformed into playful myth-making and embodied storytelling.
-Pocket juggling workshops emerged as unexpected lessons in coordination, patience, and shared rhythm.

At times, the weather disrupted the plans — but the Non-Festival had never promised to follow a plan. The mud reshaped our improvisations; the rain demanded we stay close; the forest gave us props without asking permission.

Nights of Performance, Play & Provocation

After long hours of discussions, performances unfolded under the dark forest sky:

–Sender Unknown invited us to decipher messages from the unseen.
–Tik-Tak played with time, urgency, and resistance.
-The DJ of the Oppressed turned the clearing into a dance floor where strangers became allies through movement.
–Caravane Voices for Climate Justice asked not how to entertain, but how to be heard — together.

Each night, the forest kept the silence afterwards, as if listening.

The Lived Reality of Climate Justice

This edition’s focus — Climate justice in practice — was not a slogan. It was mud on boots, hands in soil, shared meals cooked from local ingredients, discomfort negotiated collectively, and art made not for consumption but for connection. It was realizing that climate justice was not a debate for later, but a relationship practiced now.

We ate together, worked together, argued together, improvised together. The friction between us became the material of our art. The cold forced collaboration; the rain insisted on trust; the forest reminded us that solidarity is a form of survival.

A Warm Climate Created Among the Rain

On the final day, as we gathered for the last assembly, a surprising warmth settled among the group. People sang, voices rising with steam from their tea. The creative parts of their character — sometimes shy, sometimes bold — flowed with ease. Ideas were shared not to impress, but to build something with others.

Friendships formed like moss: quietly, resiliently, across surfaces that seemed impermeable at first. The community did not emerge from comfort, but from shared effort, shared uncertainty, and shared imagination.

What We Carried Back from the Forest

When bags were packed and the forest was left behind, the rain had dried from jackets, but something remained. The participants carried:

-skills that belonged to everyone
-questions too large to answer alone
-new ways to act and listen
-the belief that theatre can be a rehearsal for justice
-and a sense that community is not declared; it is done.

The forest gave us no grand finale — only the quiet knowledge that change begins like this: with muddy hands, shared meals, creative risk, and voices raised together beneath the trees.