there is a table laid out on the green with an invitation for the ministers to join us, it remains empty all night, chairs vacant, the candles in the silver holders unlit. Whilst they are perusing the menu at cutler hall or wherever the rest of us tuck into a plate of rice and daal, and think about others less fortunate in the world at that moment. The surveillance camera is trained on the socialists womans choir as they sing the words 'this land was made for you and me, the sacred forests, the holy island, belong forever to you and me' then the camera swings on the beautifully black clad anarchist youth as they climb the hill, they have a most pertinent banner it says 'we've got your number police bastard' yuppies gaze down bemused from the new development overlooking the green and the helicopter with its opprsessive evil drone hovers as the rhythms of resistance sheffield strike up but it can't drown out their infectious beat and the 'rice for dinner make poverty history' evening progresses nicely. plenty of happy faces, the last of the evening sun reflecting nicely off the orange fluoro bib of the fit squad officer in front of me. The camera swivels again. the anarchists have staged a sit down for rice dinner protest in the road. They are joined by both rhythms of resistance sheffield and sheffield samba band, who are nicely re-joined, a good sign. everyone marches off up the street and the police swing into action, we are penned into a side street for many hours, we must be looking good because they spend a lot of the time taking photos of us. a kind of stand off, we hold our own, the drums sound great, the chant goes up, 'whose street, our street'. snatch squads dash into the crowd, they must appreciate the anarchist banner with the coppers number on, because they eventually succeed in stealing the thing. There are a few arrests but eventually we are allowed back along the street and on to Devonshire green. back to the convergence centre to connect. the best banners seen in the past few days have been the blank ones, they say everything, they say nothing, they demand that you say something for yourself. we've got to bring back the dancing.
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