A token of respect

Bakkar, a special 15-minute Ramadan cartoon, is entering its second year on TV. Will its indigenous hero win the popularity sweepstakes? Yes, believe the 52 animation and computer graphics experts who have been working since last Ramadan to produce this season's Bakkar. "It's taken us a year to complete 20 episodes," says director Mona Abul-Nasr.

Bakkar's production team are proud of the cartoon. Abul-Nasr explains that this is the first time children can watch a wholly Egyptian cartoon on TV, as opposed to imported, dubbed products like Tom and Jerry or Donald Duck.

Not only is Bakkar Egyptian, in fact, he is from Upper Egypt: "Bakkar comes from the south, from the beautiful city of Aswan. He links people in urban areas with those from the south," Abul-Nasr notes. "We wanted to show an Egyptian environment, and stay away from western forms," she explains. Bakkar, in fact, seems to have transcended not only geographical expanses, but also cultural barriers and political boundaries. The series received a warm welcome at cultural festivals in the United Arab Emirates and Tunisia.

Most of Bakkar's adventures take place in the Pharaonic temples or the mud huts of his small village. The second year sees the little boy and his friends dealing with often complex issues that encourage children to think about the world around them. For instance, in one episode, Habiba, a blind girl, saves her schoolmates from a great danger. The importance of literacy, and the need to eliminate the vendettas endemic to Upper Egypt, are other lessons children can learn. But the approach is rarely demagogic or heavy-handed.

Abul-Nasr herself is pleased that the cartoon is consistent with government policies on Upper Egypt. "Bakkar, as a child from the south, is in line with the national goal of paying more attention to Upper Egypt," she explains. "The show reflects the depth and authenticity of that region. Bakkar represents one aspect of a common Egyptian identity, she adds -- even if this particular aspect has been long neglected.

Perhaps the show's popularity is also due to Abul-Nasr's insistence that colloquial Egyptian Arabic, interspersed with some Nubian words, be used throughout. Besides downplaying the differences between the children of the country's biggest cities and those of the rural south, this decision has been a refreshing change for many children alienated by the consistent use of classical Arabic in the dubbed (western) cartoons that are such a staple of Egyptian children's TV.

Those used to Tom and Jerry's antics, however, may be lulled into a stupor by the pace of the Bakkar series. Abul-Nasr argues that, while western cartoons are based on action, "here the idea itself imposes its own rhythm. Bakkar is a Nubian child who loves drawing and lives in a village." She admits, however, that financing -- or, more precisely, the lack thereof -- does have something to do with the characters' laid-back attitude and somewhat lethargic movements: "We have a limited budget compared to western countries."

Cairo Cartoon is the production company established 10 years ago by Abul-Nasr to produce cartoons for children. She and her team have produced three series so far: Kani and Mani, Sindbad, and Bakkar. Cairo Cartoon receives financial support from the Radio and Television Union, but Abul-Nasr has her "own way of supervising the work, which cannot be applied at the Television Cartoon Section because of bureaucratic procedures," she says. "We work about twenty hours a day in order to meet deadlines," agrees one animator, busy putting the final touches on her sketches.

Abul-Nasr's company produces about four hours of cartoons a year -- not much, but not bad, either, considering that TV production is approximately the same. Hassan Nour, a young animator who works on Bakkar, blames the Television Union for not increasing production by hiring more talented young graduates. "Most of my colleagues in graphics work as teachers, because they can't find work as animators," he explains. With the involvement of businessmen in cinema, however, Abul-Nasr hopes animation will take off too. She now hopes to get funding for a feature-length cartoon.

Not everyone loves Bakkar, of course. Some argue it is unsophisticated, others that it is unauthentic. Bakkar is not tailored for a specific age category, Abul-Nasr says; "I think children of all ages will enjoy watching the series." Hala El-Sharouni, a writer of children's books, disagrees: "I expected it would deal with more sophisticated issues such as outer space, the ozone layer, or computer technology, not just adventures," she remarks.

Idris Ali, a Nubian novelist whose novel Dunqula was recently translated into English, also criticises Bakkar's adventures, which "have nothing to do with reality: Upper Egypt is not full of armed gangs," he scoffs. The Nubian lifestyle, according to Ali, is completely different. He also disapproves of the accent used by the Nubian characters. "Bakkar uses very few Nubian terms. How can children believe that he comes from Upper Egypt?" he wonders. Scriptwriter Amr Samir, on the other hand, argues that if he uses more Nubian terms, the children will not understand.

The children, at any rate, are not complaining. "I like Bakkar because he always does good things. He always beats the bad guys. I also like his Nubian accent, because it is different," says 10-year-old Mennatallah Hossam. "The problem is that it always comes on at 5.00pm, which is when we sit down to Iftar. Also, the episodes are very short. I would like to watch cartoons like Bakkar all year, not just during Ramadan," she adds.

Amir Ragi, 12, likes the idea that the events take place outside Cairo. "Sometimes, while watching Bakkar, I hear strange Pharaonic names. I ask my grandpa who or what they are, or look up the information in a book or encyclopaedia," he says. "I would like to watch more Egyptian cartoons like Bakkar, because I don't like most of the western cartoons."

By Rania Khallaf - Published in AL-AHRAM