Breaking the Wall of Extremism: Urdos, France

When I first saw the call for participants for “Theatre: Breaking the Wall of Extremism,” my brain went into immediate conflict mode. On one hand: France. Beautiful, enchanting France, nestled in the Pyrenees mountains. On the other hand: theatre. A domain where I had approximately zero experience and maximum potential for embarrassment.

Spoiler alert: I went anyway. And I’m glad I did, even if my stomach didn’t always agree with me on the journey there.

Getting there

The training course took place in Urdos, a tiny mountain village in southwestern France, right at the doorstep of Spain. Picture this: a charming chalet called Peyranère, perched high in the Pyrenees National Park, surrounded by mountains and fresh air. Sounds idyllic, right?

Getting there, however, involved a car ride from Pau that tested both my resolve and my digestive system. Winding mountain roads, endless switchbacks, pressure changes that made my ears pop like bubble wrap—let’s just say I got intimately acquainted with the concept of carsickness. There may have been an unfortunate incident. We don’t need to discuss it further.

But once I arrived and saw the place, all was forgiven. The chalet was practically ours for the duration of the project, a cinematic mountain retreat that looked like it belonged in a feel-good European film about finding yourself.

Theatre of the What Now?

The project brought together 24 participants from 10 countries—France, Slovenia, Italy, Lithuania, Latvia, Portugal, Netherlands, Greece, Romania, and Spain—for ten days of exploring theatre methodologies as tools to address youth extremism and radicalization. Heavy topic, I know. But here’s the thing about non-formal education: it has a way of making even serious subjects approachable.

We dove into various theatrical approaches: Forum Theatre and Theatre of the Oppressed, Image Theatre, Shadow Theatre, Puppetry, Storytelling, and Body and Voice work. For someone like me, who gets shy when I’m not doing things “the right way,” this was both terrifying and liberating.

Theatre of the Oppressed, developed by Brazilian theatre practitioner Augusto Boal, is particularly fascinating. It’s not about perfecting your Shakespeare monologue or hitting your marks on stage—it’s about using theatre as a tool for social change, for exploring power dynamics, for giving voice to the marginalized. It’s democratic, interactive, and frankly, a bit messy in the best possible way.

Finding My Niche

Here’s what I discovered: not all theatre requires you to be center stage with all eyes on you. Thank goodness.

My favorite sessions turned out to be puppetry and shadow theatre. There’s something wonderfully freeing about creating a puppet, giving it a personality, and then letting it tell your story for you. You can build entire narratives with minimal resources—just some materials, light, shadows, and imagination. And crucially, the puppet gets the attention, not you.

The shadow theatre workshops were equally revelatory. Standing behind a screen, using your body to create shapes and silhouettes, telling stories through movement without the vulnerability of direct eye contact—it was perfect for someone who prefers to express themselves without being the main attraction.

Don’t get me wrong: watching some of the professional actors in our group perform was inspiring. It was also mildly intimidating, like showing up to a pickup basketball game and realizing LeBron James is on the other team. But that’s the beauty of these Erasmus+ projects—they’re designed to push you slightly outside your comfort zone, not throw you off a cliff.

Creativity Without the Desk

One aspect I hadn’t anticipated appreciating so much was the setting for creativity. This wasn’t your typical training where you sit at a desk, take notes, and do individual exercises. We were a group, constantly collaborating, bouncing ideas off each other, building stories collectively to explore issues like extremism, identity, and belonging.

There’s something about standing in a circle, moving your body, and co-creating with others that unlocks different parts of your brain. It’s spontaneous, it’s social, and it’s surprisingly effective at getting you to think about complex social issues in new ways.

The Free Afternoon (Where We Accidentally Went to Spain)

Of course, you can’t work 24/7, even on the most engaging projects. During our free afternoon, we went hiking through the mountains, following a trail that wound its way to a lake. A lake that happened to be in Spain.

So yes, I can officially say I crossed an international border on foot during this project. Very casual. Very European.

After hiking in the summer sun, that lake was calling our names, and most of us couldn’t resist taking a swim. Nothing says “intercultural learning” quite like splashing around in Spanish mountain water with people from nine other countries, all of you equally exhausted and happy.

The Takeaway

Would I recommend this kind of experience to someone who’s not a theatre person? Absolutely. In fact, especially to someone who’s not a theatre person.

These Erasmus+ training courses aren’t about being an expert or having all the skills before you arrive. They’re about being open to learning, willing to feel a bit awkward, and ready to discover new tools for working with young people. Theatre, it turns out, is an incredibly powerful methodology for addressing serious issues like extremism and radicalization—not through lectures and statistics, but through story, embodiment, and creative expression.

Plus, where else are you going to learn puppetry, cross international borders on a hike, and live in a mountain chalet for ten days, all while fighting extremism through the power of performance art?

I arrived in Urdos as someone uncomfortable with theatre and uncertain about stepping into the spotlight. I left with a collection of new methodologies, a deeper understanding of non-formal education, and the knowledge that sometimes the best learning happens when you’re slightly uncomfortable—preferably without the motion sickness, but you can’t have everything.