SOME may wonder why Janey Godley is playing a comedy set in a theatre in Easterhouse, when recent gigs have seen the comedienne wow audiences in New York, New Zealand and London.

Easterhouse, she herself points out, was once a place to where only ice cream vans would go.

"I remember when I was a kid I'd go up and babysit this woman's weans," recalls the 48-year-old, who grew up in Shettleston and then lived in the Calton.

"And I remember seeing fields for the first time and seeing all these beautiful open spaces. But the rest of it was a horrible, architectural midden that looked like an Eastern Bloc labour camp. The place had no amenities, shops, nothing, and friends who lived there used to say to me 'Coming up? Bring us some square sausage and Dettol and if you're going into Boots the Chemist get me some Savlon cream'. They were like labour camp survivors. They lived in isolation."

Janey points out that until recent times, no one would ever have thought of buying a house in Easterhouse.

"They'd say 'Are you mental? Why not just buy a caravan and a dangerous dug?' "And the problem was created by Glasgow City Council who put all these poor people together," she adds. "Let's not kid ourselves. It wasn't middle class Church Of Scotland goers who were decanted into the scheme. And so it became a ghetto that was begging to become awash with drugs and violent crime."

Janey believes the transformation in Easterhouse is something close to 'incredible'.

"Now it has a good contemporary feel, and it's great, but I think that's come about because Easterhouse itself has pulled itself out of the mire of the seventies, and the drugs and the gangs.

"It's like it's an old second hand coat that's been sewed up nicely. Sure, dugs did pee on it once and it was smelly but now it wears itself well.

"In a weird way the place has a retro feel about it, but there are also some great new developments. As a result, the place no longer looks too samey, with its new Scandinavian-type houses. And it's far nicer and easier on the eye."

She adds, in softer voice: "There is something to be said for affluent people living alongside those who don't have money. There is a social balance and it seems to be working in Easterhouse."

Janey Godley has a theory as to why/how Easterhouse 'has pulled itself from the mire'. "It's the women," she says, succinctly.

"The women are always the anchor of the community and Easterhouse is a hugely matriarchal society.

"The women have always held it together through times when the men were unemployed and more recently when so many of the men left and the place became largely, in my experience, a single woman's refuge.

"I can't recall going to any house in Easterhouse that didn't have just a single women and their kids.

"That was the place the council placed them in, together. But as a result, the place has always been a great support system.

"The isolation produced feisty women, who learned to survive. They were the ones who started up the drugs support groups, the 'let's grass the drug dealers' groups and the violence against women support systems.

"They were ones who learned to live by buying in from catalogues, Avon, whatever. They were the ones who'd demand of ice cream men, 'Can you no' sell milk?' when some of them were too busy selling heroin.

"The women have empathy. They care and they listen. And they gave me advice. And they rallied round me when I had problems. (Janey's autobiography told a story of marrying into a gangster family, relatives on drugs, and abuse).

"I never felt afraid up there. I loved going up there, for all sorts of reasons. And I still do."

Part of the Easterhouse development features the Platform theatre and its arts programme.

"What I love is that the people of Easterhouse aren't being patronised when it comes to the arts. Who's to say that the people shouldn't have Bertolt Brecht or interpretive theatre and dance?

"And the locals are really responding to physical theatre productions - and I'm not talking about wee shows wi' 'Our Tanya and Maria are daein' their dance class'. We're talking about proper productions.

"And of course Easterhouse loves comedy. In fact I learned such a lot about comedy in Easterhouse.

For example?

"Well, one pal told me one day about a neighbour who had two pot-bellied pigs," she recalls, laughing. "I said 'What? You're kidding me on!' But sure enough, I looked across the back and there were the two pigs. So I asked why she had them and she said, 'Well, her brother's a junkie. And he stole them.' I said 'What did he think they were?' And she said: 'Ornaments'."

"Now, if you can't laugh at that...

"Then she told me about the guy three doors up who brought a tiny alligator back from South Africa and put into his bath. And this woman heard it had grown, so she went up to measure it. She told me it was the size of her ironing board.

"Now I know a woman in Easterhouse who took her ironing board to measure an alligator!"

It's fair to say Janey loves so much of the scheme.

"Easterhouse still has a bit of a split personality problem. For example, there's the old Shandwick Shopping Centre and right opposite there's the new fancy mcmancy centre (The Bridge). It can't make up it's mind what it is, whether it's still a scheme or a modern town. But it's trying hard."

She adds: "Only in Easterhouse could you have a library, a theatre, a cafe and a swimming pool in the one building.

"I just love the fact you could walk out of the library in your knickers and dive into the pool." Janey Godley @ The Platform Theatre, The Bridge, Easterhouse on Saturday November 14 at 8pm. To book tickets call 0141 276 9696 or email: tickets@platform-online.co.uk