Translating Theater: An Introduction to theTheory and Practice of Translating Literary Texts

Item Type text; Electronic Thesis

Authors Kreun, Alexis

Publisher The University of Arizona.

Rights Copyright © is held by the author. Digital access to this materialis made possible by the University Libraries, University of Arizona.Further transmission, reproduction or presentation (such aspublic display or performance) of protected items is prohibitedexcept with permission of the author.

Download date 27/07/2021 21:55:08

Link to Item http://hdl.handle.net/10150/297662

TRANSLATING THEATER:

AN INTRODUCTION TO THE THEORY AND PRACTICE OF TRANSLATING LITERARY TEXTS

By

ALEXIS KREUN

A Thesis Submitted to The Honors College

In Partial Fulfillment of the Bachelor’s degree With Honors in

Spanish

THE UNIVERSITY OF ARIZONA

MAY 2013

Approved by:

Dr. Ana Perches

Department of Spanish and Portuguese

2

ABSTRACT

The following two plays were originally written in Spanish by Professor Ana Perches.

They focus on historical and contemporary issues in Mexican-American society and contain

interesting perspectives into events such as the Mexican Revolution and the Vietnam War.

These works, which initially were available only to Spanish-speaking audiences, have been

translated so that monolingual English speakers can now better understand and appreciate the

culture of our neighbors to the south. In addition to the two plays, this thesis includes a

reflection upon the theory of translation involved while completing this project and a

presentation of the challenges confronted.

3

TABLE OF CONTENTS

Summary and Analysis of Translation Theory (in Spanish)………………………………………………….4

Introduction to A Doctora Without Borders………………………………………………………………………12

A Doctora Without Borders……………………………………………………………………………………………….13

Glossary…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….67

Introduction to Nellie Campobello: the One Who Danced on Horseback…………………………..69

Nellie Campobello: the One Who Danced on Horseback……………………………………………………70

Glossary…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….111

4

Translation is like a woman. If it is beautiful, it is not faithful. If it is faithful, it is most certainly

not beautiful. -Yevgeny Yevtushenko

Fidelidad y belleza: análisis y reflexión sobre las teorías de traducción

A mí me parece que Yevgeny Yevtushenko tiene una perspectiva muy cínica de las

mujeres y de la traducción. Yo, como una mujer, creo que él se equivocó—las mujeres sí pueden

ser fieles y bellas. Y si una mujer puede ser no solo bella sino también fiel, es posible que la

traducción también pueda serlo. No obstante, como el proverbio nos enseña, la belleza reside en

el ojo del espectador, y también la fidelidad de una traducción depende en que consiste la

definición de “traducción” y también de “fidelidad.” Durante este año, he trabajado para

descubrir exactamente qué significa ser una traductora fiel, si aún es posible, a través de traducir

dos obras originales escritas por Ana Perches. Además de aprender sobre la teoría de traducción

durante este proceso, también aprendí mucho sobre mi segundo idioma, español, y de la cultura

mexicana, cual es una parte intrínseca de ambas obras.

El filósofo italiano Umberto Eco dijo que, “Translation is the art of failure.” Creo que

Rosemary Arrojo, la autora de “The ethics of translation,” estaría de acuerdo con una parte de

esta declaración: traducción es un tipo de arte, porque requiere una persona creativa. Pero la

parte sobre fracaso solamente es la verdad si se define “traducción” como “absolute equivalence.”

Según ella, “ translation can never be the neutral, invisible activity which tradition expect it to be

(237),” porque de la influencia de la cultura, la era, la sociedad, y muchos otros factores.

Kussmaul dice en su libro “Training the Translator” que “translation is not only a skill but also a

problem-solving process (Arrojo, 237).” Arrojo continúa esta línea de pensamiento con la

afirmación que “such a ‘creative’ or ‘productive’ aspect of translating is…very similar to

5

original writing and, thus, cannot be mastered simply by applying a certain method or a

collection of rules. According to [Kussmaul]:

[since] communicative acts are part of a culture…translators have had to decide…[for

instance] if names of people or institutional terms not known in the target culture had to

be explained or adapted, if allusions had to be made explicit or even dropped in the

translation (237-8).”

Cuando estaba traduciendo las obras Nellie Campobello: la que bailaba a caballo y Doctora:

título pendiente, me encontré con muchas decisiones así, y aprendí muy rápidamente que poder

leer una obra sin dificultades no necesariamente significa que traducirla es fácil.

Algunos ejemplos de decisiones difíciles que tenía que tomar son los juegos de palabras.

En la obra Nellie Campobello: la que bailaba a caballo, hay un chiste cuando Jennifer dice que

según los libros, Nellie es “una hija natural,” y Espejo responde con “Pues, mejor que artificial

(72).” El problema se plantea cuando se trata de traducirlo porque en inglés, las palabras “a

natural daughter” no tienen el mismo significado que en español. Otros ejemplos de este juego

de palabras aparecen en la página 79, con el título de la escena “A toda madre,” que tiene un

doble sentido en español porque la escena tiene que ver con algunas madres con hijos que

planean ir al norte. También en el fin de la obra, hay un chiste cuando Cristina dice mal el Ave

María con las palabras “tu fuente” en vez de “tu vientre.” Es difícil traducir en inglés porque en

español, las palabras fuente y vientre riman y no es tan sorprendente que ella las haya cambiado,

pero en inglés, las palabras “source” y “womb” son muy distintas. En la obra Doctora: título

pendiente, no hay tantos juegos de palabras, pero el título mismo de la obra puede tener dos

significados porque de la ambigüedad de la palabra “título.”

Además de los juegos de palabras, hay otras decisiones que tuve que tomar como

traductora de esas obras, como las alusiones que Kussmaul menciona. Por ejemplo, en la página

6

75 de Nellie Campobello, el judicial dice: “Que bailes de la huasteca ni que diantres. A ver, a

ver, cuales estados de la República colindan con el estado potosino de San Luis Potosí?” Los

lectores de la versión español saben que él tiene un tono un poquito superior y condescendiente

porque repite la palabra “potosino de San Luis Potosí,” pero en inglés, esta alusión se pierde.

Otro ejemplo es en Doctora: título pendiente con la rima “Dos y dos son cuatro y cuatro y dos

son seis, brinca la tablita yo ya me cansé.” Si se traduce esta rima palabra por palabra, va a

perder el ritmo, que en este caso, es una parte muy importante porque el ritmo ayuda a

memorizar las matemáticas. Por eso, decidí no traducirla porque creo que el público puede

concluir que tiene que ver con los números por el contexto de la rima, aunque no puedan

comprender las palabras.

Cuando decidí hacer mi Honors Thesis con un énfasis en la traducción, en la superficie

parecía un poquito extraño porque mi especialización es la lingüística. Pero lo que aprendí

durante estos dos semestres es que, en realidad, la traducción y la lingüística tienen mucho en

común, con la definición moderna de lingüística. Según Baker, la lingüística moderna:

no longer restricts itself to the study of language per se but embraces such sub-disciplines

as textlinguistics (the study of text as a communicative event rather than as a shapeless

string of words and structures) and pragmatics (the study of language in use rather than

language as an abstract system) (228).

Esta relación entre lingüística y el uso de idiomas en la vida real tiene que ver con la traducción

porque, otra vez según Baker, “The ability to make sense of a stretch of language depends on the

hearer’s or reader’s expectations and experience of the world…A network of relations which is

valid and makes sense in one society may not be valid in another (229).” Cuando alguien quiere

traducir una obra, es importante que él 1) entienda la cultura de la que proviene la obra y 2)

entienda la cultura de su público.

7

Yo entiendo bien mi propia cultura, y antes de empezar a traducir, también pensé que más o

menos entendía la cultura mexicana, después de cuatro años de vivir en Tucson además de

muchos viajes atravesando de la frontera. Pero muy pronto aprendí que todavía tengo mucho

que aprender, y también me di cuenta de la autenticidad en lo que dijo Baker, que algo que tiene

sentido en una sociedad a veces no funciona en otra. Por ejemplo, las relaciones entre comadre y

compadre, que existen en México pero no en los Estados Unidos, o la guayabera, que se puede

traducir como “Mexican wedding shirt,” pero en la traducción se pierde mucho porque no se

explica como la guayabera está relacionada con la identidad mexicana. Otro ejemplo que yo

enfrenté en las obras es la traducción de viejo/vieja como un término de cariño porque en inglés,

decir alguien es viejo es un insulto. También escogí mantener el nombre de Pancho Villa como

“Pancho” en toda la obra sobre Nellie Campobello, aunque en el original, cambia entre Francisco

y Pancho, porque yo sé que los hablantes de inglés no saben que Pancho es un sobrenombre de

Francisco. En la traducción de “panista,” puse “right-winged” porque creo que es más fácil que

intentar explicar el significado del partido político PAN. Una pregunta interesante es como

traducir el concepto de “tutear,” porque se relaciona con la cultura pero también con una parte de

la gramática fundamental del español que no existe en inglés. Otra pregunta interesante aparece

en la página 42 de Doctora: título pendiente cuando Bety “le pone a Rudy el pasamontañas.”

Esta referencia cultural no tiene sentido en inglés, entonces la traduje como “a symbol of

rebellion.”

Estas referencias culturales a veces tienen sus orígenes en la historia, y por eso, yo

también tenía que investigar mucho acerca de la Revolución Mexicana y entender bien el

contexto de las obras antes de traducirlas. En su ensayo, Arrojo explica que el trabajo de los

traductores es escribir, pero ellos también tienen la responsabilidad de leer, y leer bien. Ella

8

pregunta, “We usually associate creativity with production…but what about comprehension?

We sometimes even talk of creative miscomprehension…Interpretation—or comprehension—

mediates or “guides” what we hear or read, including of course the reading of translators (236).”

Luego, ella enfatiza que “translators are also readers and thus inevitably embedded in their own

culture (238).” Para entender bien las obras, tuve que leer sobre personas como Carranza, Dr.

Atl, Frida Kahlo, Diego Rivera, Martin Luis Guzman, Obregon, Porfirio Diaz, y por supuesto

Nellie Campobello. Aprendí de la matanza de estudiantes que ocurrió en la Plaza de Tlatelolco,

de la leche con chocolate llamada Pancho Pantera, y de los voladores de Veracruz. Creo que

después de leer y estudiar estas dos obras, especialmente la obra sobre Nellie Campobello, yo

entiendo mucho mejor la cultura mexicana y también la cultura mía.

Además de la responsabilidad de ser un buen lector, también es la responsabilidad del

traductor estar “fully aware as possible of the kind of interpretaiton of the original he or she

produces and brings to the translated text (Arrojo 241).” Tomamos, por ejemplo, la poesía. En

su ensayo, Arrojo presenta la complejidad de esta responsabilidad a través de un ejercicio que

hicieron algunos estudiantes. Al principio, los estudiantes reciben un texto corto para traducir lo

que es solamente una nota informal. No obstante, después de traducirlo, ellos aprenden que el

texto en realidad es un poema muy famoso. De repente, “whatever was prosaic and simple about

[the text] becomes poetic and complex…[the students] must accept the challenge of interpreting

it “poetically,” that is, they must attribute to each element of the poem a function and a meaning

which should transcend those which they originally saw in the note (Arrojo 240). Hay muchos

poemas y corridos en la obra Nellie Campobello, algunos escritos por Nellie u otros escritores

famosos, algunos por mi profesora Ana Perches, y algunos son una mezcla de los dos. Un

problema que tuve que resolver fue cuando una palabra en español no connotaba las mismas

9

sensaciones en un idioma que en el otro. Como ya expliqué, tuve este mismo problema en otras

partes de las obras, pero en la poesía, las connotaciones tienen una importancia aún más grande.

Por ejemplo, la palabra “montaraz” en un poema autobiográfico de Nellie Campobello que se

puede traducir como “coarse,” “rural,” o “wild” según el diccionario. Todas esas palabras tienen

una connotación negativa en inglés, pero en el poema la palabra “montaraz” connota algo

postivo, entonces escogí usar la palabra “untamed,” que el diccionario no me proveyó. Este es

un ejemplo de como la creatividad entra en la traducción. También otra dificultad con traducir

poesía es como (o si es necesario) mantener el ritmo y la rima. En el corrido “El lavaplatos” en

la página 85 de NC, traté de mantener el ritmo pero tuve que perder la rima para salvar el

significado:

Que vacilada

Migra fregada

La mande a la Chihuahua

What an adventure

I pulled a fast one

On the damn border patrol

Otro ejemplo aparece en la página 93, con la línea “soldados y soldaderas” porque en inglés no

hay una forma masculina y femenina de la palabra “soldiers.” Si se traduce solamente como

soldiers, se va a perder el ritmo del poema, entonces la traduje como “soldiers, men and women.”

Me sorprendió que a veces me toma más tiempo traducir un solo poema que dos o tres páginas

del texto normal!

Finalmente, además de aprender la teoría y las técnicas de los traductores, yo también

mejoré mucho mi nivel de español a través de este proyecto. Debajo tengo una lista de muchos

términos, expresiones coloquiales, y modismos que aprendí:

10

Costar un ojo de la cara Cost an arm and a leg

De pe a pa From head to toe, from a to z

Cría cuervos y te sacarán los ojos Bite the hand that feeds you

Una bola de rateros A den of thieves

Te corre de volada He would eat you alive

Ya no tardan Almost

Esta como quiere What a hunk!

Su gracia ha de tener He must have something going for him

Viejo rabo verde Dirty old man

Por poco Almost

No han de tardar They’re on their way

No se van a salir con la suya They’re not gonna get away with it

Tener la canasta baja Lack motivation, think they have it made

Para el colmo To make things worse, to top it off

Que requisito ni que nada Screw the requirements

Desde luego Of course

De volada Right now

A todo dar

“Voy a vivir aquí a todo dar”

“I’m going to live it up here”

Pero lo que sea de cada quien Needless to say

En conclusión, aprendí mucho durante el proceso de hacer mi tesis de honores, y lo que

aprendí más que todo es cuanto más tengo que aprender! Creo que antes de este proyecto de

traducción, tuve la impresión que el aspecto más importante en ser un buen traductor es entender

bien los dos idiomas. Ahora, comprendo que traducir involucra mucho más que solo ser

bilingüe—tiene uno que ser creativo y saber cómo tomar buenas decisiones, tiene uno que saber

cómo investigar el fondo de los textos y sumergirse en dos culturas distintas a la vez. Se tiene

que apreciar la parte lingüística de traducir, pero no distraerse con la tentación de traducir

palabra por palabra. Tal vez según Yevtushenko nunca puede existir una mujer ni una traductora

fiel y bella, pero lo voy a ignorar y continuar intentando de ser las dos.

11

Bibliografía

Arrojo, Rosemary. "The Ethics of Translation in Contemp Orary Approaches to Translator

Training*." The Ethics of Translation.

Baker, M. (1992). In Other Words: A Coursebook on Translation. London and New York:

Routledge.

Kussmaul, P. (1995). Training the Translator. Amsterdam and Philadelphia: John Benjamin

*All page numbers referring to Nellie Campobello: la que bailaba a caballo and Doctora: título

pendiente correspond with the page numbers of the English versions included in this thesis.

These works were both written by Ana Perches.

12

A Doctora Without Borders

Written by: Ana Perches

Translated by: Alexis Kreun

Set in the 1970’s, this play spotlights a Mexican-American family in their struggle to get

by and accomplish the American dream while still staying true to their culture and heritage.

The backdrop of the Vietnam War and the political controversy surrounding it add a unique

twist to the development of the story. The three sisters in this play provide a dialogue that is at

times witty and entertaining, and at others tender and heart-warming. As we journey along

with this family and experience their struggles and their triumphs, we find ourselves rooting for

them to succeed, despite all the obstacles that come their way.

13

A Doctora Without Borders

MAIN CHARACTERS:

PAPA: hard-working man, doesn’t smoke or drink; good provider, very protective of his

daughters

MAMA: independent but also conventional in some things, open-minded in other things; suffers

from jealousy, is lacking romance in her marriage

GRACIELA: the oldest daughter, studies philosophy and liberal arts

BETY: doesn’t really like to study but can dance *folklórico beautifully, also likes fashion and

design, is flirtatious and a little rebellious

SUSANA: the youngest daughter, very rebellious; later reforms and goes to study medicine

RUDY: Bety’s boyfriend, enlists to go to Vietnam

SUPPORTING CHARACTERS:

TEACHER

HIGH SCHOOL STUDENTS:

SERGIO/SUSANA’S EX-HUSBAND

COUSIN IN MEXICO CITY

RECEPTIONIST

MEDICAL STUDENTS

WOMAN in Dr. Susana’s office

TELEVISION PROGRAM:

EMCEE

DR. KIDNEYSTEIN

TEACHER

WOMAN

PANCHO

SOCIAL WORKER

PATIENT #1

PATIENT #2

JOSH (Susana’s new husband)

VALENTINA: Susana’s daughter, comes out briefly in the end of the play

OTHER COUSIN

The play is divided into scenes although there could be a division between the two acts.

SCENEOGRAPHY: Very simple. A few chairs and a table with a drawer in which to put in

and take out props. The style of the chairs should be as neutral as possible. In some scenes they

will be moved farther forward or backward or put together to simulate a bed. The set design is

not realistic in that it doesn’t try to recreate a living room, a school, or a restaurant. This would

14

be too complicated, given the number of different scenes and eras that continue developing. The

story is told through the characters, so the less set distractions, the better for the concentration of

the audience.

MUSIC: Before the beginning of the play, the song “Teach Your Children Well” by Crosby,

Stills, Nash and Young is played

Time: Year 1970, more or less. The father is eating breakfast at a table while the mother attends

to him. In front, Graciela and Bety spread out a cloth on the floor and measure with a yardstick.

SCENE 1: “You gotta be like the Chinese”

GRACIELA: Then the teacher asked how many of us are going to the university and do you

know how many raised their hands?

BETY: Only you.

GRACIELA: Only me and the Japanese girl raised our hands.

BETY: What Japanese girl? Oh, yeah, that Chinese girl who’s half *gringa and half japonesa?

GRACIELA (impatiently): If I am saying that she’s a Japanese girl, then she’s not Chinese.

(pause) Only she and I are going to the university. Some boys said that they’re gonna enlist for

Vietnam.

PAPA (gets up from the table): Let’s see, you’re already finished cutting the fabric? I told you 8

yards. Let’s see, *planchonas, if you measured well, and what kind of cutting is this? How hard

is it to cut it straight?

15

BETY: Papi, it’s because these scissors don’t work-they’re too dull. (to GRACIELA) and what

did the teacher say when you told him that you want to study philosophy?

PAPA (sarcastically): Philosophy? What the hell is this? Just like my friend’s son who’s getting

his doctorate in, in, what’s it called? (thinks and says slowly) Sociology. Why don’t you guys

study to be engineers or doctors or at least architects?

BETY: How about a dentist?

PAPA: Dentist is good, they get good money. Or at least an accountant, but philosophy?! What

you guys really should do is stop worrying about this stuff and come help me at the funeral home.

You have no idea how much I need you there, plus you’d get to know the business. After all, it’s

going to be your business anyway.

GRACIELA: My friend’s boyfriend spends all day in his dad’s mechanic shop and now he’s

gonna fail half his classes and most likely not even graduate from high school.

PAPA: Well just look at me. I only went through the sixth grade. After awhile, I would have

liked to continue, but my dad made me work. I was really good with math, right, planchonas, 8

by 12? Ah, well what do you know, God knows what they’re taught in school these days. Cut

the fabric right! There’s a correct way of doing this, planchonas!

BETY: There’s calculators now, papi, so we don’t have to know how to multiply.

PAPA: The hell you don’t, and soon everything’s gonna be done with the calculator; you go into

K-mart and there’s the morons using their calculators to add 7 plus 15. Hmpf! Do me a favor!

But since I don’t speak inglish I didn’t tell them anything. Wretched English (*pinche ingles)!

What I would give to speak it, after so many bloody years in this country.

GRACIELA: Papi, after we bring the fabric to Juárez can we go to eat at Shangri-La? I love

Chinese food!

16

PAPA: Of course, *mi’hijita, whatever you guys want. Look at that Chu family from Juárez,

getting rich from hard work, savings, and not acting like they own the whole world, not like

nowadays…

GRACIELA: And think about this, Papi-the Chinese aren’t only hard workers, they also do very

well in school. In my class they’re the most diligent of all of us-one guy even went to

Washington DC to present his science project (13 year old Susana enters with dirty tennis shoes).

BETY: Well how boring, they don’t know how to have fun. (to Susana): *Bestia! You’re gonna

get the fabric all dirty with your shoes! (Susana makes a face and leaves)

PAPA: Well that’s nice, but now you see, the Chinese study science or engineering, not like you

guys with the philosophy and art, or what’s that one major called-“family studies”? Or even

worse, “Chicano studies”? (The mom comes over)

MAMA: Well like I’ve always said, you should study Chinese because it’s the language of the

future. Just look at Japan, so small but so powerful.

GRACIELA (impatiently): Mami, they speak Japanese in Japan, not Chinese.

MAMA: Fine, well then study Japanese, but for me I think studying Chinese is better.

Everytime you buy something in K-Mart or Sears or wherever, what does the tag say? “Made in

China”. I remember before, where there were things in the US that said “Made in Mexico” but

now, even these “quilts” that are an American tradition 100%, I saw some really pretty ones,

made by hand, with cotton (touches the clothes that her daughters are cutting), well made and I

see the tag-“Made in China.” And at $39.99-you can’t even buy the cloth for that cheap! It

made me sad.

17

PAPA: The *guayaberas that I bought for my friend I got in K-Mart, made in China and, my

word, they’re better than the Mexican ones. The problem is in Mexico we just do the bare

minimum and put things off til *mañana.

GRACIELA: But Mom, Why did it make you sad that the quilts were made in China?

MAMA: Well because it’s an American tradition…for the same reason that it makes me sad to

see the best guayaberas aren’t made in Mexico.

BETY: But you even say that the pizza at Pizza Hut in Juárez tastes better than in El Paso.

GRACIELA: And the Chicken Mcnuggets are better in Hermosillo than here, and to make things

worse, did you know that now they have mariachis in Japan?

BETY: Well, they’d have to eat a lot of sushi before they start getting fat. (The father interrupts)

PAPA: Well I just ate really good tacos in Los Angeles. Better than in any store in Juárez and

cheaper too.

GRACIELA (to her father): But these taco shops in Los Angeles or in Phoenix or wherever,

they’re owned by Mexicans, so I’m glad that they’re doing so well. You’ve always said that we

should sell flutes or burritos.

PAPA: These Mexicans come here for business because now you can’t work in Mexico, there’s

too many complications, you wouldn’t believe it mi’hijita, because you think Mexico is the

greatest. But you don’t know what it’s like to work there, no no no no no, the government makes

it impossible. (indignant) Don’t they want to see the progress of their people? They’re a den of

thieves. I have to have a business in Juárez , but what I wouldn’t give to be able speak English

and have the funeral home here.

BETY: And this fabric, papi, if I could use it to make dresses (wraps the fabric like a Greek

tunic), I’ve always liked design, fashion.

18

GRACIELA: You want to make dresses with the cloth that’s for a box for dead people?

BETY: Fabric is fabric, look at this brocade and this, it looks like velvet; let’s see, (takes out a

dress that she has made) look at the dress I made, it was gonna be a surprise. How much do you

think I could sell it for, for example, as a godmother’s dress or for a *quinceañera?

GRACIELA (mad): You ruined the most expensive fabric we have for the funeral home; that’s

the fabric that papi asked me to order from Italy!

BETY: Ay, por favor, it was already the end of the roll. It wouldn’t even be enough to line a

baby’s coffin.

MAMA (looking at the dress): Mi’hijita, when you add up the cost of the thread, the pattern-the

price of patterns has gone up..How much did you pay for the pattern?

GRACIELA: She did it by hand! How many hours did it take you? Instead of studying for your

algebra test!

MAMA: When you add it all up you’re gonna find that you can’t sell it for more than $120,

which isn’t very much.

GRACIELA: And you can buy it at the store for $70, made in China, of course.

BETY: Thanks for the encouragement.

PAPA: What? What’d you say?

BETY: Never mind. (disappointed) Like you’ve always said, papi, it’s better to have a flute-

selling stand. I know!!! I’ll open a taco shop in… (spins around in a complete circle) in Paris!

PAPA: These fabrics have turned out very, very well. I’d say that they will easily work to, say,

upholster the coffins. They’re gonna be selling like you won’t believe.

BETY: …like hot bread.

PAPA: Susanita! It’s time to go, you’re not gonna show up late for school, mi’hijita.

19

SUSANA: Don’t worry about it, Papi, I’m gonna go by myself on my bike.

BETY (sarcastically): And soon she’s gonna say “on my motorcycle.”

GRACIELA: How she does her make-up, you wouldn’t believe it, papi.

SUSANA (to Graciela): Shut your mouth (gives her a punch).

GRACIELA: Oye, what do you think you’re doing, estupida (pulls her hair).

MAMA (to her husband): Javier, make them behave.

PAPA (pretending to be mad): (looking at the clock). Susanita, let’s go, or else you’ll be late.

Rememeber that punctuality is the basis for success.

(Susana runs out; el Papa says goodbye to la Mama; Graciela and Bety fold up the cloth and

everyone leaves.)

SCENE 2: One month later. The “study session” in the library and Bety’s fieldtrip

(GRACIELA is finishing up folding the fabric with an expression of anguish on her face)

GRACIELA: (looking at the clock) I have to go. I can’t be late, I have a “study session” with my

philosophy group.

PAPA: A what?

GRACIELA: Papi, remember how I told you that for my class we have to get together to talk

about the lectures? It’s part of our grade.

(Bety winks to GRACIELA)

PAPA: And later, what time will you get back and who’s gonna take you home so late and why

can’t you just study here in the house? Besides, here you can help your mom with the dinner or

20

whatever she needs. (Susan enters wearing a miniskirt made of the funeral home fabric; she

takes some chips, cookies and a soda)

BETY: (to GRACIELA without her father listening): Graciela, Did you already tell him about

my field trip?

(the phone rings)

BETY: (indignant upon seeing Susana’s miniskirt made with her cloth): And this skirt? That’s

my cloth! Don’t tell me that…yeah, it was the end of the roll! You cut the dress that I made in

order to make your miniskirt!

SUSANA: So what? I can design too!

GRACIELA: Dad’s not gonna let you go out wearing that. And you’re gonna ride bike like that?

(sees that Susana’s wearing lipstick) Are you wearing my lipstick?

PAPA: Girls, one of you has to take care of your great aunt. Okay, let’s flip a coin.

SUSANA: Heads.

MAMA (to her husband): What happened to you aunt? Another nervous breakdown?

BETY: Papi, actually I wanted to ask permission to go on a “field trip” for school that begins the

day after tomorrow. You know that we have Spring Break and in my school…

GRACIELA: Papi, did you see how Susana went out? You weren’t paying attention! If I wore a

skirt like that you would flip out!

BETY: And she even has a tattoo. (pause) And very risqué.

BETY (a Graciela): You promised you were gonna convince my dad to let me go on the field

trip. Rudy will be upset if I don’t go. He’s one of the few boys who dances foclórico and they’ll

put him with another dance partner. Don’t be mean, go and take care of great aunt, that way you

can study in her house.

21

GRACIELA: And why can’t Susana go?

MAMA: How can you want your sister to go? She’s too young.

PAPA: What the hell is this about a field trip?

BETY: It’s for my folk dancing class, papi. We’re taking a bus to Chihuahua to take classes

with the teachers there; we’ll stay there for a week.

MAMA: A week? And how much does it cost?

PAPA (to Bety): You’re completely crazy if you think I’m gonna give you permission. You

have a house here! Why do you need to go sleep in another place, with boys and girls together!

And this is part of the school? No way!

BETY: But, papi, it’s the only way to get an A in the class. It’s required.

PAPA: Screw the requirements. What’s more, you’re going to go take care of your aunt during

your spring break, and not another word about this damn fieldtrip.

BETY: Didn’t you say we were gonna flip a coin? (gives Graciela a nasty look)

PAPA: And what’s this about your sister? She just left with a scrap for a skirt?

MAMA: Graciela told you, but you didn’t listen to her.

PAPA: For crying out loud!

(They all leave and arrange the desks for the next scene)

SCENE #3: In the highschool

MUSICA: “Son de la Negra”

22

(The students are there: Cindy, Susana and Ben are sitting down; Bety and Rudy are outside the

classroom; Bety is practicing the steps for La negra when Rudy arrives)

BETY: They won’t let me go on the field trip. What am I gonna tell the teacher?

RUDY: It’s not gonna make you jealous that they’re gonna give me another girl as my dance

partner?

BETY: I’m not jealous! Why would it bother me if they put you with another girl?

RUDY: It’s a four hour drive to Chihuahua. Who am I gonna sit with?

BETY: I’m dying to go and you know I did everything possible to convince my dad.

RUDY: What if I try to go convince him?

BETY: Man, he would eat you alive. Have you heard what he says to the boys who come to the

house. (looks at the clock) You have your Spanish class.

RUDY: It’s a joke.

BETY: Why’s it a joke?

RUDY: Because I already know how to speak and write Spanish.

BETY: Then why don’t you learn Chinese?

RUDY: (lovingly) I’ll see you in folk dancing class.

(since it’s time for class to start, they say goodbye and separate; Rudy enters the class and sits

down)

(Cindy and Susana are talking before class)

CINDY: What’d you get on your preterit tense test?

23

SUSANA: I got a C, and you? (looks at Cindy’s test) An A? (Cindy makes a very proud gesture)

I forgot two miserable accents. If I had put all the stupid accents I woulda gotten an A.

CINDY: Well, *yo sacó un A (Doesn’t realize that she said it wrong)

SUSANA (correcting): saqué una A.

CINDY (confused): No, you got a C!

SUSANA (impatiently): Never mind!

(Bobby arrives with an attitude and sits next to Rudy; they do the “Chicana handshake”)

TEACHER: Buenos dias clase. Today we’re going to learn how to use the subjunctive. Who

can give me an example of the subjunctive? (Everyone raises their hand except Susana and

Bobby). Susana, when can you use the subjunctive?

SUSANA: (sarcastically) Sepa.

TEACHER: (confused) Sepa?

SUSANA: *Sepa la bola.

TEACHER: (seeing that Guillermo has his hand raised) Bill (corrects herself) Guillermo.

GUILLERMO: The subjunctive is used in a subordinate clause to express emotion, like a desire,

a doubt, or a request.

TEACHER: Very good answer, Guillermo. (seeing that Bobby’s not paying attention). Bobby,

can you give me an example of when to use it?

BOBBY: *Espero que…the war in Vietnam ends soon.

TEACHER: How dare you! I already told you that there will be no talk about politics in this

Spanish class. Here we learn *castellana. Did you hear me, Susana, cas-te-lla-no; not border

Spanish (mocking). “Sepa la bola”. (pauses) Another example. (Thinks about who to ask) Rudy.

24

RUDY: Temo que Bobby screwed up. *No dudo que the Vietnam War is the only thing to do

for a patriotic citizen. (Cindy raises her hand) The army is an opportunity for the youth and

espero que in the near future I will have the honor of being a soldier for the United States of

America. Es importante que the United States gives an example of liberty and democracy for the

rest of the world.

GUILLERMO: Oh, oh!

TEACHER: Gracias, Rudy. You see, Bobby, and you, who’s 100% American.

BOBBY (protesting): Rudy is 100% Chicano! What? That’s not American enough for you?

(Cindy continues raising her hand)

GUILLERMO: Oh, oh!

CINDY: Yo espero que I will be picked for the cheerleading squad. (laughs and moves her head

from one side to the other)

TEACHER: Excelente, Cindy.

SUSANA: *Ojalá yo fuera una gringa like Cindy so I could be chosen for the cheerleading squad.

GUILLERMO: Oh, oh!

TEACHER: Susana, you used the imperfect subjunctive, which we will cover much later in the

semester. Guillermo, an example.

GUILLERMO: *Dudo que yo vaya a Vietnam porque mis padres quieren que yo estudie en

Harvard Medical School (very proud) My parents want me to be a doctor.

CINDY: Senora Miller! Espero que in the future that I will marry a rich doctor!

SUSANA: Espero que in the future I will be a rich a doctor!

GUILLERMO: Oh, oh!

25

BOBBY: Yo le pido a Rudy que él reflect over his plans to go to Vietnam. Quiero que Rudy

understand that it is a stupid and cruel war. Y espero que todos ustedes go to the demonstration

that we’re having this afternoon and to our walk-out. Les suplico que vayan!

TEACHER: And I demand that you leave this class immediately. Out!!! I can’t have you

making those immature statements in my class and take off that stupid black band around your

arm, for God’s sake. (Bobby leavings shouting “U.S. out of Vietnam” “Bring our troops home!”)

(He’s arrest by two police officers)

SUSANA: I’m sure that if Senora Miller had a son, she wouldn’t be okay when they send him to

Vietnam and return him in a coffin covered with the American flag. (runs out, leaving her

bookbag)

GUILLERMO: Oh, oh!

TEACHER: Young lady, you go to the principal’s office right this second!

MUSICA: “War”

SCENE #4: Susana expelled from school

(In the Beltrán house. Mrs. Beltrán is organizing the Avon products that she sells to her friends)

MUSICA: Pedro Infante “La calandria”

MAMA: Skin so soft, $4.99, order of 2; strawberry bath gel, $2.99 order of 3, two bars of aloe

vera, one lipstick so natural, three lip glosses…(the telephone rings). Bueno. (makes a gesture of

wanting to understand) I no espik inglich, aim sorri. Susana Beltrán? Sí, she’s my daughter.

Como? Pero, why? She disrespected a teacher? Mi husband gets home at 7 at night. I no espik

26

inglich. Ay, ay, ay, ay, ay, I feel sick. Dios mío, I’m going to faint. My poor child. What’s

going to happen to her? I no espik inglich, I no espik inglich! (blackout)

MAMA: Last night I had a nightmare. I was pregnant. I was only 23 years old and I already had

five daughters, yes, daughters, and all in a row, like a staircase, the older with 8 years, the next

following with 6, the third with 5, the fourth with 3 and the fifth just turned 2. Five women.

And what would happen when the oldest turns 15, the second 13, the third 12, the fourth 10 and

the fifth 9? Quinceñera dress for the oldest, graduation dress for the next one, cheerleading outfit

for the 3rd

, microscope for the fourth, dancing classes for the fifth, and all of them with their Max

Factor, their hair spray, their blow dryers that use up all the electricity, their bras, their lipsticks,

their razors to shave their legs and armpits, their kotex, their tampax, their crushes and

boyfriends. I dreamt that I was going to be a mother again; The rhythm method screwed me

over….Ah, my nightmare, in my nightmare last night I had 5 daughters, all in a row, like a

staircase, I had to comb all their hair and I don’t know how to comb hair, some with straight hair,

hair so straight that the hair ties fall out, another with hair so curly, curly, so curly that it gets

tangled every time it’s washed; so many dresses, so many bras in the future, so may boyfriends,

and I was pregnant for the sixth time, at 23 years old and with 5 women, all in a row like a

staircase. Thank God it was only a nightmare!

MUSICA: end of the song from earlier “La Calandria”

ESCENA #5: Susana leaves the house

27

(Susana grabs a suitcase and begins to throw in things quickly; She walks towards something,

then comes back with money that she also stuffs in the suitcase, which she later takes out and

puts in her purse. She walks toward a cabinet and grabs some pills but first she swallows a

couple; Exits running)

MAMA: Susanita? (Sees a message on the table) Ay, Dios. Viejo, Did Susana run away?

PAPA: What? What are you talking about? How can it be? Is she crazy? What does her note

say?

BETY: (upset) I’ll call the police. What was she wearing? (insistent) They’re going to ask me

what she was wearing! Rudy, you saw her in Spanish class. Was she wearing her bell-bottoms?

MAMA: No, don’t call them, how embarrassing. What if the neighbors heard?

GRACIELA: (to her mom) I think you should check the safe.

MAMA: The safe!!! All my savings from my Avon business!

PAPA: That’s the least important thing right now. We’re gonna go look for her.

RUDY: I’ll go with you, sir.

GRACIELA: Rudy to the rescue!!!

RUDY (to Bety): Calm down, Bety. We’ll be back soon. (Papa and Rudy start to leave)

GRACIELA: No time to waste. She took the first flight this morning.

MAMA: To where?

GRACIELA: To Miami.

EVERYONE: To Miami?

(The scene changes to Miami)

28

SCENE 6: In Miami

(A young man wearing a leather motorcycle jacket and a helmet, is about 30 years old)

MAN: What are you doing in Miami? Are you a model?

SUSANA: No, I’m not a model but I did make it to the cheerleading squad! In my high school

that’s a big thing. Oh well, then I got kicked out, for bad grades. So I quit school cuz I want to

be on my own for awhile. Independent, see what I’m saying. Do you have a cigarette?

MAN: I smoke Camels, that okay? So what are your plans, young lady, planning any high’jacks

to Cuba?

SUSANA: My plan was to go to Peru. Do you know how I can get a passaport?

MAN: You mean a passport, not a pass-a-port! You’re an American, or are you..? You look…

SUSANA: I’m Mexican.

MAN: Oh, señorita. *Yo trabajó en construcción muchos años pasados con gente mexicano.

SUSANA: (correcting) You mean, gente mexicana.

MAN: But they were all guys.

SUSANA: Don’t you have a light? For my cigarette, I mean.

MAN: You’re Spanish. But you speak like an American, well, except the way you said “pass-a-

port.”

SUSANA: I was at the airport with my ticket to Lima, Peru and when the man asked me for my

“passport” he couldn’t stop laughing when I took out my green card. I’m from the border and to

me, that’s my passport (making it a point to pronounce it correctly)

MAN: You’re so cute. Bonita. Muy *chula, I learned that. A qué caray! Listen I have a Harley

around the corner, care to go…tu quieres un “ride”?

29

SUSANA: (interrupting) : You have a what?

MAN: A motorcycle, haven’t you ever heard of Harleys? Never mind, care to go for a ride?

There’s lots to see in Miami and, don’t worry, they don’t have the Border Patrol here.

SUSANA: I’ve been hanging out in Miami for two months, people have taken me all over but

not on a “Harley”!

MAN: By the way, how old are you?

SUSANA: Fifteen, why?

(Man makes a face, like “too young” and goes the other way; Susana decides to hitch-hike)

ESCENA 7: IN THE BELTRAN HOUSE

GRACIELA: (who’s a little on the side of the scene): What do you mean, how did I react when

Susana came back? I don’t remember how I reacted. It was so long ago.

SUSANA: When I came back, it was like nothing happened. Nobody wanted to talk about it.

BETY (laughing): You actually showed them your green card?

(Susana reenters the house with an extra suitcase)

MAMA: Mi’hijita! Oh, thank God. Look at you, you grew! You look like…a woman.

SUSANA: (hugs her mom) Do I still have my room? You didn’t turn it into a sewing room, did

you?

MAMA: No, mi’hijita. Are you kidding?

SUSANA: I’m starving!

MAMA: Your dad is going to be happy to see you.

30

PAPA: A motorcycle? You want me to buy you a motorcycle?

SUSANA: Well, of course, so I can go to work. To go to Juárez to help with the funeral

business, okay?

PAPA: (to the audience) Well, considering I’ve been worried sick about her, how could I say no

to a motorcycle? Did I tell you all about how I rode a motorcycle when I was young? When she

asked me for a motorcycle, just an average one, not anything to write home about, of course I

couldn’t say no. It was like her last toy. My little girl wasn’t a little girl anymore.

BETY: I thought to myself, I should run away, maybe they’ll buy me a car.

GRACIELA: It didn’t even surprise me that they were gonna buy Susanita a motorcycle cause

she’s daddy’s little princess.

MAMA (to her husband): Instead of punishing her, you reward her, and with a motorcycle! You

know I hate motorcycles!

GRACIELA: I said to Susana, you have to go back to school but she didn’t listen to me. She

started hanging out with a really bad crowd, with a bunch of potheads.

BETY: Potheads? *Pácatelas. (laughs)

(Susana grabs Bety’s arm and introduces her to the group of potheads; then Bety sees Rudy and

steps aside to talk to him)

ESCENA 8: BETY AND RUDY

RUDY: These are some times, woman.

BETY: I don’t know how I feel when you say that.

31

RUDY: Huh?

BETY: I mean, when you call me “woman.” “These are some times, woman.” The universe

never changes, Rudy. We are always the same. The same myths, the same conflicts, the same

wars.

RUDY: Don’t talk about the war. In one week I will be in Vietnam and that’s my business.

BETY (surprised): What! What! You decided to go to Vietnam?

RUDY: Don’t worry about me. I want you to continue your dance classes, you dress designing,

and…

BETY: I would a million times rather you leave me for another woman, but…to leave me for this

damn war…

RUDY: Graciela’s the one who put these thoughts in your head.

BETY: Graciela, and all of our friends in school that actually use their brains!

RUDY: Look, in order not to worry so much about me, why don’t you convince your dad to let

you study in that design school in LA.

BETY: Estúpido (hits him). You think that studying in LA is gonna make me miss you less or

worry about you less? I hate you! Can’t you see that this is suicide? Who was it that knocked

you over the head? You’re gonna look fricken stupid with your face shaved and wearing that

starched, poop colored uniform. Do you want me to design you one that’s a little more

fashionable, my love? (he tries to calm her down, saying “my angel, I love you so much, it’s not

all for nothing) I’ll put on a little mariachi embellishment so that you look more Mexican.

RUDY: It’s for our future, mi amor. For a safer future for our children.

32

BETY: (angry) Our children?? Your children will be orphans before being born! I’ll design a

black wedding dress and they’ll call me the widow-bride. Our children? Your children will have

squinty Asian eyes and never call you daddy.

RUDY: Bety, calm down. Don’t obsess about all the negatives. We have to fight the enemy.

We’ll make a safer world for everyone with liberty and democracy. (tries to hug her but Bety

doesn’t let him)

BETY: (angry and sarcastic) Liberty and democracy. Pure bullshit! I never thought you’d let

those recruiting guys at school convince you. Like Graciela says (Rudy interrupts her) wouldn’t

it better if they convinced us to go to college?

RUDY: (defending his pride): I made my own decision!

BETY: (hopeless) And if you come back in a wheelchair? And if you come back in a coffin?

Will you let me choose the coffin?

RUDY: Give me a little hope. (tries again to hug her)

BETY: (moves away from him) Give me an opportunity to love you. Don’t go.

RUDY: Give me some moral support.

BETY: It isn’t a moral war. I know this, but I wish I didn’t. Oh, how I wish I didn’t! (is about

to leave but returns to hug Rudy with the passion of a final goodbye)

(The director of the play should find another way of ending this scene that leaves Bety crying

alone or that has Bety leaving hopeless with Rudy standing alone, looking thoughtful)

SCENE 9: JEALOUSY!

33

PAPA: I’m back, vieja. Wow, do I have a lot of work. Three died today.

MAMA: And how are things going with the new secretary? Pretty sexy, no?

PAPA: (irritated by the comment) Here we go again! I’m so frustrated with the coffins that are

being imported from the Philippines. Already nobody wants to buy Mexican coffins. Los

gringos prefer to import from China. Do me a favor! They live right here on the border!

MAMA: This new secretary, she’s a little young, don’t you think? Is she satisfying you?

PAPA: I’ve had it up to here with your jealousy. What you should do is take care of your

daughters and make sure they’re not walking around like leash-less mutts.

MAMA: I think it would be very good for Bety to go to LA to study. A letter from Rudy arrived

today and she spent the whole day in her room, crying and crying. (Graciela enters)

GRACIELA: I already bought Bety a Greyhound ticket and an apartment in Los Angeles with a

roommate. The classes start in two weeks.

MAMA (to her husband): Now you see. You let Susana use the American Express for her ticket

to Mexico City, and tell me, why did she go to Mexico City? To take a class about the etiquette

in Polanco.

GRACIELA: Now she won’t be a mutt of her leash, she’ll be a cognac drinking bitch

(pronounced “beach” to rhyme with leash and slightly mock the Spanish accent)

PAPA: She’ll be in very good hands, with my sister. I sent her money so she’s not without

anything. Anyway, I’m not so comfortable about Bety going to a city so big like Los Angeles.

And so American.

MAMA: And Mexico City isn’t big?

PAPA: That’s different. We have family there.

34

(There’s a small time transition.)

SCENE 10: Mexico City

[Music: Romantic Mexican music that’s played in elegant restaurants]

………a table in an elegant restaurant [suggested that the waiters bring drinks, have good

posture and European style uniforms] Cousin and Susana are dressed very fashionably. They

want to appear older than they are.

(The waiters are very chivalrous, even to the point of ligthing the ladies’ cigarrettes)

MUSICA: somewhat cheesy, romantic

COUSIN: So I’m going to say, Let me introduce my cousin Susana Beltrán from El Paso, Texas.

SUSANA: It’s better if you say I’m from Juárez, or Chihuahua. Suena más mejor, no?

COUSIN: Remember that I told you not to say “más mejor,” *se oye naco, like you speak

choppy Spanish.

SUSANA (putting on lipstick): How old did you say he is? And he’s never been married?

COUSIN: He loves the ladies, maybe that’s why he’s never married. He’s what the call a

“lady’s man.” Or maybe he hasn’t found the love of his life? He likes skinny girls like

you. Age? He’s going on 24 (Sergio starts to enter).

SUSANA (appalled): Why, he’s gonna look like an old man!

COUSIN: (to the audience) A Mexican man, even when he’s old and pot bellied, doesn’t get

discouraged by anything. He believes he’s handsome and has the right to get a pretty young

girl. For this 34 year old *yucateco, a 30 year-old woman would be an old maid. But if he

marries a 17-year-old, he feels like he has the right to mold her in any way, in his way. (directing

35

herself to Susana) By the way, Sergio is from the Yucatan. We’ll see what you think of his

accent.

(the action continues, introductions are made, many drinks are ordered, the “conquest” begins.

Sergio is wearing a guayabera and has a mustache that he continually fixes with his right hand;

he should appear to be about 45 or 50 years old although he says he is 34)

(Sergio sits down next to Susana)

SERGIO: (to Susana) Boshita Hermosa, I invite you to my hacienda in Yucatán. Do you like to

go horseback riding? I have tons of horses, choose any horse you like. And later you can go see

my cement factory in Mérida. In Tulúm I have a house on the beach; do you like to swim? (to

the waiter) Bring me another bottle of brandy, or better yet, some appetizers. (to Susana) Invite

all your friends. Ok, let’s see what we wanna eat. (to the waiter) Young man, treat the women

like queens, give them whatever they want to eat or drink. (to Susana) What a beautiful hat.

What’s under that hat, boshita Hermosa? (Sergio takes off the sombrero and the cousin puts on a

wedding veil and gives her a bouquet of roses. Sergio lifts the veil and kisses her on the

forehead, paternally)

SCENE 11: SUSANA AND SERGIO IN MERIDA

(The restaurant transforms into the living room of Susana and Sergio’s house in Yucatan)

SUSANA: It’s so hot in Merida! (Petra brings her a lemonade) Petra, bring me the girl, okay?

PETRA: She’s asleep and Chavela’s still taking care of her, don’t worry.

SUSANA: It’s just that I want to hold her, I feel her close and please don’t wrap her up like a

tamale like my mother-in-law does. Her little legs and little arms need to breathe.

36

PETRA: El senor gave instructions that we follow your mother-in-law’s orders exactly.

SUSANA: For crying out loud!

(Sergio arrives)

SERGIO: Hola, *vieja.

SUSANA: I’m not your vieja.

SERGIO: And this dress. Women of your class don’t wear this crap. Have you seen the

newspaper? The gringos are monopolizing the funeral business and are starting by buying out

the north part of the country, in Nuevo Leon and Chihuahua. But you don’t have to worry about

anything. With me, you have everything. And these nails?

SUSANA: I didn’t have time to give myself a manicure, oh well, I’m sorry. I went to find out

about the school of medicine. I told you that I want to submit my aplicación, verdad?

SERGIO: *Solicitud. (says solicitud almost at the same time that Susana says aplicación) (mad

and paternalistic) I’ve already told you that it doesn’t look good for a woman of your standing to

be seen in the university; it doesn’t look good for you to be seen…in that nest of communists.

SUSANA: What’s wrong with studying? I didn’t want to study before because I wanted to know

the world, but now (she thinks) I want to know it better. I mean, why are there hardly any

women doctors? I could take night classes for a year and then start at the medical school.

SERGIO (laughs): You’ve gotta be crazy!! Just imagine me presenting you to my friends, my

wife, la doctora Beltrán. No, no, no, no, no. I got married to a woman, not a doctor.

SUSANA: I have two servants and a nanny in order to give me time to paint my nails (Sergio

interrupts her) and my facials. Why can’t I take advantage of this time with something useful

like studying?

37

SERGIO: Because it’s important that my wife be a decent woman, presentable before society.

That’s just how it is, my queen.

SUSANA: Well, I’m not your queen or your senora, nor do I want to be “decent”, not with the

definition that you give the word “decent.” We’re no longer in the colonial times, my king.

(says my king with sarcasm)

SERGIO: Well I don’t want to be married to a student!!! (throws the book that Susana was

holding)

(the phone rings)

PETRA: It’s for the missus.

(Susana takes the call with her back to the audience but hangs up very quickly and goes to the

other room; Sergio is interested in the book that Susana was reading but makes gestures of

disapproval)

SUSANA: (With her baby and a diaper in her arms) I’m going to the airport. Rudy, Bety’s

boyfriend…; I’m going to the funeral but don’t wait up for dinner. If you want to see Valentina,

you know my parents’ address.

SERGIO: Don’t imagine that I’m going to send you checks for “child support.” (sarcastically)

You’re going back to live with your parents again in El Paso? And leaving me along? (pretends

to cry) I’m going to have to call a nurse to take care of me. (Makes a gesture like “screw you”)

I’m surrounded by women, (laughs) I won’t be missing anything!

SCENE 12: RUDY’S FUNERAL

(Military “taps” is playing like is usual at military funerals in the US; on the side, Bety and

Graciela dismally do the steps of a folk dance; the atmosphere should be tragic and dramatic)

38

(Here there can be an intermission between the first and second part)

ACT II

SCENE 13: Graciela and Susana learn about the school of medicine

SUSANA: They won’t let me enter the medical school in Mérida. There’s always more

complications in Mexico. But maybe in Juárez, being a border town and all…

GRACIELA: Well, cheer up! We’re in Juárez now! Let’s go ask about the medical school, I’ll

go with you.

SUSANA: Let’s see if it goes better than in Mérida. Did I tell you that Sergio paid the people in

administration to NOT let me enroll?

GRACIELA: And yet he’s unable to send you money for your daughter. Shameless.

RECEPTIONIST: Buenas tardes, how can I help you?

GRACIELA: Yes, ma’am, this is my sister Susana Beltrán and she wants to know what is the

procedure for entering the medical program.

REC: First off, it’s not a medical program, In Mexico we refer to it as a medical school, and it’s

part of the Universidad Autónoma de Chihuahua. (to Susana) What schooling have you had?

SUSANA: I have the equivalent of a high school diploma.

REC: You mean, you finished high school?

SUSANA: To be completely honest, I didn’t finish, but I took an exam, the G.E.D.

RED: The what?

39

SUSANA: It’s a test that you take when you don’t finish high school. It becomes the equivalent

of high school and they told me in Yucatán that if I had my high school diploma I can enter the

medical school.

REC: Look, if you were a student here in Mexico with only a high school diploma it would be

enough, but as you are, with this GED, it’s not sufficient.

SUSANA: Why not?

REC: Those are the rules.

SUSANA: So, if I enroll in a high school here in Juárez, for example, night school, and finish it,

with this I can enter medical school.

REC: Forgive me, but, how old are you?

SUSANA: Nineteen.

REC: There’s no way they’re going to let you enter high school at your age. (laughs) You would

be the oldes…you’d be an old woman. What you need is a bachelor’s degree from a university,

for example, from UTEP, in whatever major but legitimate, bachelor of arts or bachelor of

science.

GRACIELA: You mean, a Mexican student with a high school diploma or the equivalent can

enter Medicine, but someone from the other side needs a whole four years of university to enter!

REC (sarcastically): I’ve understood that that’s how it is in the United States, that you need to

finish your bachelor’s degree in order to enter medical school, is it not?

GRACIELA (impatient): But we’re not in the United States.

REC: (begins to file her nails) But you guys are Americans, so you need a bachelor’s from there

to enter here.

40

SUSANA: But the Mexicans don’t need bachelor’s degrees to enroll, only high school! And I

have the equivalent of high school!

GRACIELA: And we were born in Mexico, we can prove it.

REC: That has nothing to do with anything. We have students from as far away as India, even

from…Nicaragua. (to Susana, patronizing tone) Go and finish the university and then come

back, okay?

SUSANA: ( the receptionist with a sarcastic tone) and now when I finish the university at 23

years old you’re going to say that I’m too ancient to enter medical school.

REC: These are the rules. Can I help you with anything else?

GRACIELA (sarcastically): So helpful.

SCENE 14: IN UTEP IN EL PASO

SUSANA: Mami, I have to go take my final exams and Valentina woke up with a fever

again. Can you stay with her while I go and run back? (sees her mom make a face of resistance)

Okay, I’ll ask Rosa.

MAMA: Rosa has to finish the ironing. Bueno (with a bad attitude), I’ll take care of her. (she

takes off her heels)

SUSANA: Ay, I’m sorry, were you going out? Don’t worry about it, I’ll leave her with Rosa

and if she doesn’t end up finishing the ironing I’ll give her a hand later.

MAMA: I told you that I’m going to stay to take care of Valentina.

SUSANA: Yes, but you made a face.

MAMA: Bueno, mi’hijita, it’s cause sometimes I get tired.

SUSANA: I know, you already raised all of your kids.

41

MAMA: Well at least now you’re going to graduate from the university.

SUSANA: Well, yes, but then I’m going to enter the Medical school in Juárez, of course.

MAMA: What? What? And how many more years of school do you need?

SUSANA: Many more and then I need to study for the test to practice medicine in the United

States and then apply to get accepted in a university in America so I can specialize, which is

another four more years, more or less, and then I have to study even more to pass all the

specialization tests…

MAMA: So many years of school. You’re going to lose your youth, m’hijita.

SUSANA: So if I didn’t study I could continue being young for my whole life? What kind of

logic is that?

MAMA: But the men aren’t going to want you. (Susana interrupts her)

SUSANA: Ay, mami, instead you could be encouraging me. Do you know who encouraged me

yesterday to continue studying?

MAMA: Your professor?

SUSANA: No. The woman who works in the cafeteria at the university. The cook. I always

talk with her. She’s 41 one years old and left her husband because he hit her. She never went to

school because her family said “Why study if you’re gonna get married?” so she works as a

cook. With her paycheck and three teenage kids she can hardly save up any money and her

husband doesn’t help her para nada. Well, she told me, “You’re young, you have the support of

your parents, so follow your dream to be a doctor.” The cook in the cafeteria inspired me.

MAMA: I’ve never told you girls to not study. You know how much I love Valentina.

SUSANA: (on the point of leaving) And please don’t give her those household herb remedies

and all that junk.

42

MAMA: Well, you’ll see in the future, these natural things are going to become popular again.

SCENE 15: BETY IN A STATE OF MISERY

(Bety is going crazy and thinks that Rudy came back from Vietnam in a coma; Rudy is sitting

very rigidly in front of the audience; Bety wears a shirt from Chiapas with a Mexican shawl and

her hair braided)

BETY: Chiapas!! (hums the song Las chiapanecas) Rudy, How much time has passed since you

went to that war in Vietnam? Now it’s the Zapatistas that fight for their liberty. Why don’t you

go there to help them? I’ll go with you right now! (She makes a symbol of rebellion to Rudy; her

father enters very worried about Bety’s mental state) Papi! It’s great that you’re here! Look,

help me tell Rudy about everything that’s been going on in the world, okay? I was just telling

him…

PAPA (interrupts her): Telling who? Who were you talking to? (He doesn’t see Rudy because

only Bety can see him) (Bety covers her father’s face with her scarf, everything except his eyes)

BETY: To Rudy. I was telling him that we should go to Chiapas to fight for the Zapatistas so

that they can get liberty and democracy. Papi, you’ve never read Flores Magón? What’s wrong,

papi, you look sick.

PAPA: Tell me what this letter from the Texas Casket Company says. (He helps Bety leave the

scene; Rudy follows them)

SCENE 16: With friends from the Medical School

(la Gringa and el Chicano are entering)

43

MEXICANA: (to Susana) So your daughter must be speaking perfect English. How old is she?

SUSANA: She’s already six, can you believe it? But I bring her to Juárez so that she’ll learn

Spanish. Since we live in El Paso, she’ll learn English watching Sesame Street.

MEXICANA: How funny. My sister-in-law from Juarez puts her kids in the school in El Paso,

and you, who’s from El Paso put your daughter in the school in Juárez. (The rest are all

studying)

GRINGA: How do you write the word that we learned today in anatomy class? Estero…

MEXICANA: Just like it sounds—esternocleidomastoideo (says it very quickly)

SUSANA: Not so fast, spell it out for me.

EL CHICANA: No kidding.

MEXICANA (pronouncing clearly) Es-ter-no-clei-do-mas-toi-de-o, the part of the body between

the neck and the…

CHICANO: The part of the body between the neck and the clavicle, entre el cuello y la clavicula

(with emphasis on the third syllable, “cu”) (The Mexican and the Susana laugh)

MEXICANA: (correcting) clavícula! With accent, *guey.

SUSANA: *Compañeros, like our Nicaraguan chemistry classmate says, I need help with

biochemistry and with the sciences in general. *Ayudame!

MEXICANA: (mocking/teasing tone) It’s your own fault for not being better prepared! Her in

Mexico we would have prepped you well!

SUSANA: Last night I stayed up til 5 in the morning with my homework because I got stuck

with biochemistry. This morning I didn’t hear my alarm clock, so my daughter showed up late

for school.

44

GRINGA: And I thought the medical school in Juárez would be easier than in the U.S. The good

part is that most of the books are in English.

MEXICANA (to the Gringa): What did you think? That the medical schools south of the border

were only for la *gente naca who couldn’t make it into *las universidades septentrionales?

GRINGA: Gente que? (to the chicana) Universidades seten…what? What is she saying?

EL CHICANO: I tried to get into a medical school en los Estados Unidos, I had pretty good

grades but I didn’t have a very good science background and I was working full time helping my

‘apá so no tenía enough time to study para el MCAT. So I wasn’t accepted in any American

schools. And I don’t know about your guys pero it wasn’t easy to get in here, so I take

advantage of everything this school has to offer. And plus, it helps me to improve my Spanish.

MEXICANA (to the Gringa): Okay, so what’s your story?

GRINGA: It was as easy as A-B-C-Ch (pronouncing in Spanish, the rest look at her suspiciously)

No, but really, I could have studied in any university in the States but my parents wanted me to

study in Mexico because they said that one bilingual doctor is worth two monolingual ones.

MEXICANA: And after Mexico gives you guys these opportunities you’re gonna ditch us to go

to the other side to specialize and the brain drain never ends.

SUSANA (to the Mexican): And how do you know you won’t do the same?

MEXICANA (with pride): Pues, because, because…because I’m no traitor! No soy *malinchista!

GRINGA: I’m going to work with poverty-stricken people. Seriously! I’m going to apply for

“Medicine sans frontiers”!

EL CHICANO: I’m gonna be a doctor without borders too. I’m going to live it up here in Juárez

while I work in El Paso.

45

MEXICANA: Last night when I talked to my family in Guadalajara my dad answered and I told

him, papi, I need you to send me more money, the professor asked us to buy a

esternocleidomastoideo and it costs $300. He said, “a what?” And I told him, we have to buy a

esternocleidomastoideo, it’s an apparatus that you use…blah, blah, blah. Yes daughter, no

problema, I’ll send you a check right away in the morning. (Everyone laughs)

EL CHICANO: Long live the brain drain!

SUSANA: You guys don’t know of a biochemistry tutor, do you? What time is it? I hve to pick

up my daughter from preschool!

MEXICANA: (singing and dancing salsa): esternocleido, esternocleido,

esternocleidomastoideo…

(everyone leaves, some singing “otorrinolaringólogo”)

SCENE 17: I’m grateful to my dad

SUSANA: Happy Father’s Day, Papi.

GRACIELA: Papi, I wrote you a poem. “Ode to my father” because you’ve always supported us.

SUSANA: You taught us how to work.

BETY: To work for real, not like those slackers.

PAPA: My father told me when I turned 12 that now you’re grown up, you have to work, and

pulled me out of school. School, schmool. If you wanna eat, get to work. And, my word, I

really did love school.

SUSANA: Papi, let me check your blood pressure. Have the new pills been working?

GRACIELA: Papi, tell us how you started the funeral business.

46

BETY: And they lived happily ever after.

PAPA: If I told you everything, mi’hijita, you wouldn’t believe it.

SUSANA: Papi, now that I’m struggling so much with math I think a lot about you, when you

would ask us our times tables and later give us a peseta if we learned them.

PAPA: I don’t know if I told you that when we were in Aguascalientes, the first school that we

were in was a private school because the public schools were all full.

SUSANA: *Dos y dos son cuatro y cuatro y dos son seis, brinca la tablita yo ya me cansé.

PAPA: Mi father was always really hard on us, but now, and I really mean this, I’m so thankful

he was tough because that’s what made me who I am today. But never, never did he give me a

kind word, a pat on the back, nada. Cold, cold, cold he was.

BETY: *Qué gacho!

(They go out while Papa continues talking)

PAPA: I told you when I worked with the *Kasugas. They taught me what it means to work,

what it means to make a business. At 13 years old, I was in chard of the accounting. (pauses) Go

on, get out, I have work to do.

SUSANA: Papi, but I need to check your blood pressure.

SCENE 18: The photo

(The mom and Graciela are taking out pictures from a chest on the floor; the mom is laying

down without doing anything, looking very depressed)

47

GRACIELA: (surprised, looking at a photo): And this picture, Mami? (The mom grabs it from

her)

MAMA: I found it in your father’s office. Es la *güera.

GRACIELA: But she’s not blonde. She has really red hair, doesn’t she. But why is she naked?

MAMA: She’s your father’s lover. I found out about her at our 25th

anniversary when we drove

down to Tepic. I overheard your father telling his friend, “Check out my hot new girlfriend”

(Graciela interrupts her but the mom continues) and he showed him the picture.

GRACIELA: I don’t want to hear it! (She takes back the picture) But, she looks like my age!

Seriously, Mom, I’d rather you not confide these things in me.

MAMA: I know mi hijita, you have this idea that your papa is a saint, but now you see why I

don’t get out of bed and why I dyed my hair red and why I’m gonna get my nose fixed.

GRACIELA: You’re gonna get plastic surgery on your nose? But you don’t need to. Your nose

gives you personality. It’s the same nose as grandpa. (becomes sad) When I was a kid, my

worst nightmare was that imagining that you guys would get divorced. Mami, you were so

happy before, all my friends always said that my mom was so young and active.

MAMA: Young! To your father, I’m an old rag. (sarcastically) Just look at the “babe” he got?

And 24 years old. But if I asked for divorce, you think I want this chick to end up with

everything?

GRACIELA: I’ve always assumed that my dad was the perfect dad. He works tirelessly, he

doesn’t go to parties, doesn’t drink or smoke, he supports us, he makes sure we’re not lacking

anything, and he even bought me a car and Bety and Susana as well. I never thought about what

kind of husband he was for you.

48

MAMA: I wish you had never seen this picture. I don’t have energy to go out, I look at myself

in the mirror and see an old woman, at 46 years old.

GRACIELA: It might be good for you to see a psychiatrist, Mami, that you talk to somebody.

MAMA: In the mornings I hear Valentina wake up and I say, I should get up and bring her to

school, she’s my granddaughter, I should help Susanita because she’s always up so late

studying…

GRACIELA: And sometimes not just studying.

MAMA: …but it’s like I have weights in my feet and I can’t get up. In the night your father

comes home and it’s all talking, all arguing.

GRACIELA: (looking at the picture) I don’t know anything about her, nor do I want to know,

but I don’t understand how a young woman, and attractive, ends up with a married man,

overweight and twice her age. That’s what I don’t understand. And then, seeing as how you’re

still so beautiful, what’s the point?

MAMA: Did you know that your aunt just discovered that your uncle Alberto is sleeping with

the servant?

GRACIELA: Uncle Alberto? How gross!

MAMA: It’s the 16-year-old girl they brought up from Veracruz.

GRACIELA: Don’t keep going, mama. I don’t wanna know. I don’t want to wake up everyday

feeling like merchandise with an expiration date.

SCENE 19: SUSANA AND HER CLINIC IN JUAREZ

SUSANA: Look, varicose veins are partly a genetic problem, but the fact that you’ve had eight

children doesn’t help you, nor does that fact that you work on your feet all day. This procedure

can give you an 80% cure.

49

SRA: Doctora, gracias. I don’t know how to thank you. My daughter’s coming for me now

cause I can’t drive.

SUSANA: So why don’t you learn?

SRA: Well, at my age, doctora, and plus, my husband doesn’t let me…

SUSANA: But you’re only 39 years old, and who’s your husband to tell you that you can’t learn

to drive?!

SRA: Well, I have my daughter, who you’ll see, she’s very beautiful, she even missed school

today so she could bring me to my doctor’s appointment.

SUSANA: What? And you let her skip? And why didn’t you come in a taxi or ask a neighbor?

You have to support your daughter and encourage her to study, to succeed. (gives her some

pamphlets) Did you already talk to her about birth control? About emergency contraception?

SRA: (surprised) What? What do you mean? She’s only 16 years old. Of course I tell her to be

very careful. But nothing more. I don’t want to put ideas in her head.

SUSANA: To the contrary, what young people need to have is ideas in their heads.

SRA: What I want for her is that she finds a good man, a lawyer or an engineer, a businessman, a

doctor.

SUSANA: And if her husband is messing around, oh well, and if her husband has children with

his lover, well, don’t even talk about it. And there’s your daughter with tons of little brats and if

her husband hits her, no big deal, that’s destiny, this is her cross because she can’t leave her

husband with so many children and without education. Never again do I want your daughter to

miss school to bring you to your treatment. If you don’t have a ride, then I’ll come get you or

I’ll send somebody else or if nothing else, why don’t you come on the bus?

SRA: Ay, doctora, God forbid. Take the bus? What would the neighbors say?

50

SUSANA: Ay, por favor!

SRA: Good heavens. I came for a cure and I leave with a scolding!

SCENE 20: SUSANA HOTS A “MEXICAN HEALTHY FOOD” TV SHOW

EMCEE: Good afternoon, esteemed viewers. Welcome to the program “Tell me what you eat

and I’ll tell you who you are.” Ok so now you guys are maybe thinking: Why do we want to

watch another program about nutrition when, in fact, we are bombarded with announcements and

commercials for McDonalds, Burger King, Kentucky Fried Chicken, not to mention Pollo Feliz,

and later others come and say that all this food is harmful, or in other words, damaging,

detrimental for your health. Or those programs that show us the most exquisite French cuisine

like we really have the time or the cash to prepare similar concoctions, well then, deer viewers,

today we’re going to show you something within everyone’s reach and for the benefit of all. The

theme of our program today is “Light Mexican Food.” Yes, senores y senoras, Mexican food

doesn’t have to be heavy or fattening and our specialists are going to demonstrate how you can

keep your figures, yes ladies, and you too, men, with a diet of light Mexican food. (applause) It’s

a pleasure to introduce you to Dr. Susana and Dr. Kidneystein. Let’s give them a hand, por favor.

Doctora Susana, tell us a little about how you became un doctor, or should we say una doctora?

SUSANA: Yes, I studied general medicine in La Autónoma de Chihuahua in the city of Juárez

and for several years did personal liposuctions for people with excess weight until one day I

realized that the problem had to be solved through a combination of dieting, exercise, and a good

51

mental state. I met Dr. Kidneystein, nephrologist…(makes a gesture to introduce him and give

him the question)

DR. KIDNEYSTEIN: Yes, I am a nephrologist, I work with the kidneys and with a lot of

diabetic people. I spent several years working on the border comparing the diets of Mexicans on

this side with those on the other. Dr. Susana and I started to do interviews with the people in the

community, giving them free reign with their thoughts, as you’ll see (gives the microphone to

Alicia)

ALICIA: Everyone in my family tends to be overweight, all of my four sisters and my six

brothers, but my parents are thin.

SUSANA: And what kind of food did you eat when you were kids?

ALICIA: A lot of mean, everyday, and huge lambchops, like this big. My grandpa had a meat

shop in Agua Prieta. An, and a lot of milk, we drank 5 gallons a day, oh and icecream of every

flavor, and they gave us huge portions so we would grow up healthy. (she passes the microphone

to Pancho)

PANCHO: My parents gave me refried beans with plenty of lard and fried pork rinds but later

the teacher told us that we have to eat the four major food groups.

TEACHER (style from the 50’s) You need to consume the four major food groups, as I show in

this pyramid. No, Pancho, not the pyramid of Teotihuacán.

PANCHO: The teacher taught us to eat the American style, she said that Mexican food was bad.

No more beans, she said, and buy Rainbow bread instead of tortillas.

TEACHER: You need to tell your parents to buy from this list I’m going to give you.

52

SUSANA: What the teacher didn’t tell you, Pancho, is that there are really good elements of

Mexican food, of course with certain modifications, for example, taking out the fat and the

greasy foods.

ALICIA: (protesting) Then it isn’t Mexican food, what the hell!

SUSANA: Dr. Kidneystein, nephrologist, works exclusively with diabetic people. Doctor.

DR. KIDNEYSTEIN: There are studies that show that traditional Mexican food, and I’m talking

about the traditional food, is very good for combating diabetes.

PANCHO:

DR. KIDNEYSTEIN: For example, los *nopalitos are excellent for counteracting diabetes.

Beans, pinto or black, have hyperbolic nutrients. Chilis, also, are as good as if not better than

garlic, because they’re antiseptics and help with blood circulation.

EMCEE: Then (with seriousness), dear doctors, it is possible to eat Mexican food without fat?

SUSANA: Of course, instead of eating a flour tortilla, you can eat a corn tortilla and instead of

frying your corn tortillas, put them in the oven.

PANCHO: Protesto! I’m from Sonora, so how am I not going to eat flour tortillas?

ALICIA: And what about tamales? ….

DR. K: You have to eat nopalitos. In my lab, we’re in the process of coming up with a drink,

una gaseosa de nopalitos.

PANCHO: Like a Nopalitos soft drink? Gross.

TEACHER: And don’t forget to drink 12 oz of mild per meal and to brush your teeth twice a day.

Pancho, did you hear that?

PANCHO: Hey Miss, can I use Pancho Pantera chocolate mix in my milk? The commercial says

it makes you “strong, brave, and valiant! (sings the song)

53

SUSANA: There have been studies that the children who were breast-fed will have better teeth

upon growing up and less cavities. The problem is that now in Mexico we drink too much Coca

Cola.

EMCEE (taking out a magazine; with authority) An interesting fact: Mexico is the number two

country in the consumption of Coca Cola, after the United States and followed by Venezuela and

later Brazil.

PANCHO: I was hoping we were number 2 in soccer.

ALICIA: Later they’re going to tell us that we should be drinking soy milk because it turns out

that Mexicans are lactose intolerant. Who can understand it!

DR. K: Well, I’ll tell you that we’ve done studies that milk can be made from nopalitos.

PANCHO: Everyday I say, I’m not going to pig out, I’m not going to pig out. But once I start

the day wrong, that’s it, I pig out the whole day. And I go straight for the Mexican food and I

say to myself, “I’m loving it!”

ALICIA: Look, doctor. My problem is that my husband is always telling me that I’m fat. But

personally, I feel really good. I like being voluptuous. I feel sexy, the problem is with him

(everyone starts to talk at the same time)

SUSANA: Senora, you shouldn’t stress out about that. Society puts too much pressure on the

physical.

DR K.: Your husband should appreciate you as you are, but have you ever been tested for your

glucose level?

PANCHO: Us Mexicans, we like the curvy girls, not all those anorexic chicks who look like

green beans.

54

TEACHER: Maybe it’s the clothes you wear but there’s also WeightWatchers or Jenny Craig.

And you should drink water with high alkaline and low Ph.

EMCEE: La doctora Susana, who’s also a very good housewife, was going to give us recipes for

Mexican food that won’t make you fat, right, doctora?

(el Emcee calls everyone’s attention and concludes the program)

EMCEE: Dear viewers, this concludes our program of “Tell me what you eat and I’ll tell you

who you are.” Tune in with us tomorrow when we talk about natural medicine in our weekly

program “Parsley comí, parsley cené” or “Everything that our grandmas told us was right.”

Gracias and hasta luego. Until the next time.

ESCENA 21: SUSANA AND HER FATHER

SUSANA: Papi, you have to understand. I have to bring you to meet with the doctor.

PAPA: I’m not going to meet with anybody.

SUSANA: But I’m going to bring you to Dr. Carbajal, the Columbian. You remember how we

fought so hard to find a doctor who speaks Spanish?

PAPA: Oh yes, that doctor. I really like that doctor.

SUSANA: We’re going to Walgreens to get your medications, I’ll bring you in my new car.

PAPA: Ah no, you’re not going to bring me anywhere, I’ll buy them in Juárez.

SUSANA: But they’re not the same in Juárez. Your disease is very rare and the medicine in

Juárez is already expired because nobody buys it. Por favor, papi…

PAPA: Who cares about expiration dates? They’re cheaper in Juárez and they’re the same thing.

You really think all those Americans would go to the other side to buy medicine if it wasn’t the

same? It’s the same as the liquor I made in Madera, I mixed the good stuff made from sugarcane

55

with the cheap stuff, and they don’t even realize it. I always put on the label and they really love

reading the label, telling themselves that it’s 100 percent pure, and I assure them, I don’t even

drink, but I’m sure it tasted like heaven, so what does it matter if I changed the ingredients a little.

(Susana leaves and la Mamá enters)

MAMA: We have the big vats full of alcohol on the side where the girls sleep and I’m making

them little dresses to save, this is a very good machine indeed, a Singer.

PAPA: It’s true that without you I would never have been able to survive.

MAMA: You’re such a good father, Javier, and I know that you work for us. You aren’t a

partier, you don’t drink, you don’t smoke, but how do you expect me to put up with all your

affairs? Like the time that I followed you to the hotel where you went to meet the girl from the

bank? I can forgive you for one time, for example, the one of that blonde chick, la Guera, but

two, three, four times without any intention of changing, I can’t, Javier, I can’t be like all the

other women.

PAPA: Well, I am like other men! I’m no faggot. What do you expect? After 30 years of

marriage? Try to understand. Other women understand. I don’t know why you can’t understand.

(they turn away from eachother, go in different directions, father exits)

BETY: Don’t go, mami. Papi needs you, just like Rudy needs me.

MAMA: It’s going to be difficult, hija, but it has to be this way. Come and live with me. We

can get better together. Susana just prescribed me some pills for depression and I’m feeling a

little better.

56

BETY: Is it true that Susana is a psychiatrist? She also gave me some pills and talked to me a lot

and I listened to her. She told me that if I want to dress myself like this, it doesn’t matter. She

told me that she’s working to help the girls in the jail. (confused) Is it true that if Rudy hadn’t

gone to Vietnam they would have thrown him in jail? I don’t want to go to jail.

MAMA: Of course not, m’hijita. (looking at the newspaper) The jail is for bad girls.

BETY: (confused) Some are victims, don’t you think? Who couldn’t escape their circumstances.

SCENE 22: SUSANA THE PSYCHIATRIST

(Susana is in her office, finishing a session with two patients, an inner-city chicana with heavy

makeup, 27 years old, and a white American girl about 22 years old. They both have on the blue

pajamas uniform from the jail)

SUSANA: Jessica, tell me a little bit about your childhood.

JESSICA: I didn’t have no childhood. A childhood is for rich kids. Mi mama never was home; I

feel like she just didn’t care. Basically, I was the mom. That’s the truth. She’d come home to

our trailer after partying and wouldn’t even tell us to take a bath, wouldn’t even fix us supper,

you know. It was always a pigsty there, always, dirty clothes all over the place, dirty dishes,

filthy as hell. I’m addicted to material things. That’s why I’m here. So when I feel sad or angry,

I steal.

SUSANA: What about you, Kristin. How did you learn Spanish so well?

KRISTIN: No, no I didn’t have a latino lover. (laughs) My parents always had una “*muchacha,”

Cuca was her name, the maid, but she’s like my nanny cuz my mom was never home and Cuca

57

always took care of me and she spoke Spanish with me. My father is a doctor, an ear/nose/throat

doctor, and my mom was out shopping all day, plus I think she never admitted her depression.

SUSANA: So, Kristin, how did you get into heroin, I mean, to this degree?

KRISTIN: I got into heroin to calm down from the cocaine. All, well not all but most of my

dad’s friends, those doctors, they do cocaine. And do they get arrested? No! And here I get

arrested for a little possession of…

SUSANA: Life isn’t fair.

KRISTIN: I coulda told you that!

JESSICA: What I don’t understand is why my girlfriend got sentenced for 20 years just for

prostitution?

KRISTIN: What I always say is, where is the one solicited the sex?

JESSICA: It’s a man. He’s off the hook.

SUSANA: La vida no es justa.

JESSICA: I coulda told you that!

(the social worker enters)

SOCIAL WORKER: Sorry, your time is up, we have about 45 more patients waiting to see

Doctora Beltrán today. By the way, Jessica and Kristin, the art class is starting in 10 minutes.

(the patients leave) (to Susana) Frankly speaking, Doctora Beltrán, I’m not sure how you and

these girls communicate. You and them are from such different planets.

SUSANA: (defending her position before the Social Worker) You wanna know something, there

is no difference between me and these girls in jail. I grew up in the barrio, too and there were

girls like them that I was afraid of. The only difference between me and these girls in jail is that

(emphatically) I was lucky. Lucky I was strong enough not to shoot up that needle with heroin.

58

Lucky that I did not get arrested the one night I was out driving drunk; the policemen pulled me

over I was so drunk, and I was lucky they didn’t take me to jail or even give me a ticket,

(surprised) they took me to a hotel, and I was even lucky they didn’t rape me, cause sometimes

you don’t know cops, and when they left me at the hotel, I got back in the car, my 1969 yellow

Camaro and I was lucky I didn’t get stopped again, I was lucky I didn’t get a DUI, in some

states you can’t have a medical license if you’ve had a DUI. That’s the only difference between

me and these girls in jail. I was lucky.

SOCIAL WORKER: Your luck doesn’t stop there, Doctora Beltrán. You’re lucky your parents

took you back after running away from home. Y luego they took you back one more time when

you came back from Yucatán with your hijita. Some of these girls have nowhere to go. As a

Social Worker I can tell you… (Susana interrupts her)

SUSANA: Well yes, but I decided that I wanted to study and you can’t imagine how much I

studied and for how many years to become a psychiatrist and have the position I have now.

SOCIAL WORKER: Well of course, I know that you had a big passion for school (motherly)

Needless to say, you were born with a lot of luck, doctora. Praise be to God.

SCENE 23A: THE WHITE ELEPHANT (It’s Christmas and there’s a family reunion; they’re

playing the White Elephant game where each person brings something from their house to give)

MAMA: (to Bety) Bring the chili with cheese so your cousins can try it.

BETY: Ay, mami, but we’re gonna start the while elephant now.

SUSANA: (to her cousin) Prima, I want to introduce my husband, Josh.

59

COUSIN: (to her husband) Nice to meet you. You’re also a doctor, right? Do you speak

Spanish?

JOSH: Sure, why not? How’s everything in Mexico City? I’ve heard that there’s been a lot of

kidnappings.

COUSIN: Propaganda. There’s violence everywhere.

COUSIN (to Susana): Prima, is your daughter coming? Isn’t she in the university in California?

SUSANA: Yes, but she’s on break. Ah, look, here she comes.

VALENTINA: Hola, *tía (gives her a kiss on the cheek).

COUSIN: Hey there, niece. And Bety? She hasn’t gotten better? (The question bothers

Valentina)

VALENTINA: She’s hanging in there.

MAMA (to Bety): Bring out some more coco colas from the other refrigerator.

VALENTINA: Look, grandma, to play the White Elephant game you have to choose something

in your house that you don’t want, for example, a flower pot that you’re sick of and can’t stand

anymore for some reason or a cute little tray and then you wrap it in an interesting way, not

necessarily Christmas wrapping paper. That’s how you make the game really fun, you’ll see.

PAPA: I know, why don’t you use these old tennis shoes?

VALENTINA: (laughs) Abuelito, those tennis shoes look like they’ve never been washed

(laughs again). Bueno, whatever you want.

PAPA: Okay, let’s wrap them up. (touches his stomach and makes a sign of pain) (Valentina

wraps the shoebox with black paper)

VALENTINA: Do you feel okay, Grandpa?

PAPA: Si, mi’hijita, don’t worry. (goes with the rest)

60

GRACIALA: (to everyone) Okay, look at your little paper. They’re numbered. The person with

the number one chooses one of the gifts and opens it, but don’t fall in love with it because

someone else might take it.

BETY: (to the cousin) I can’t believe that your son wants to go fight in Iraq.

GRACIELA: Who has number two?

BETY: It’s been 30 years since Rudy went to Vietnam and never came back; The day that he

went to Vietnam, that day…

COUSIN: That day, what?

GRACIELA: (insistent) Number two?

JOSH: Me!

GRACIELA: You have the option of taking the gift from number one or choosing a new one.

BETY: That day I quit dancing. But I still have all the costumes.

COUSIN: The one from Veracruz?

BETY: Yep.

COUSIN: The one from Chiapas?

BETY: Not that one, but the one from Tampico, yes.

MAMA: Bety, did you bring the cokes from the other refrigerator?

SUSANA: What can I bring you to drink, papi?

PAPA: Nothin mi’hija. (pointing at the tennis shoes that are in lined box that resembles a coffin)

(to Susana) Don’t choose that one, mi’hijita.

COUSIN (to Mamá): How good you look, aunty, always so young.

(person number 2 opens a present)

61

JOSH (to Susana): I can’t believe that your parents being divorced can still spend Christmas

together. That’s awesome.

COUSIN (to Josh): so how do you feel being away from your parents for Christmas?

JOSH: It makes no difference. We’re Jewish, you know?

GRACIELA: Okay, number 3, who has number 3? (the game continues while the rest talk)

BETY (to the cousin): I never understood why Rudy wanted to go fight in Vietnam.

COUSIN: You can’t compare Iraq with Vietnam.

BETY (sarcastically): Oh, it’s so different. In Vietnam we were fighting again communists.

Now we’re fighting against terrorists. Ists, ists, and more ists. I’m fed up with all the “ists.” I

should have been there, it was my duty. Rudy needed me more than those communists.

COUSIN: But Iraq is different. And you know what? They’re giving him automatic citizenship.

BETY: Ah, yes. They’ll put the American flag on his coffin. With all the little stars and stripes.

PAPA (to Graciela): Don’t pick that one, mi’hijita.

SUSANA: My dad says he wants my mom back.

JOSH: Ah, that’s sweet.

(the game continues)

VALENTINA: Abuelito, it’s your turn. It’s your number. What do you pick?

PAPA: You can choose for me.

MAMA: Javier, are you feeling okay?

COUSIN: Now I have a second job so that I can pay the tuition for my kid’s school.

JOSH (to Susana): Sweetie, your dad doesn’t look good.

SUSANA: Papi, I’m going to check your blood pressure. Let’s go to the other room.

PAPA: How clever I am to wrap up those old tennis shoes.

62

GRACIELA: Mi papa needs some peace and quiet, so if everyone can please vacate the room,

tomorrow we’ll tell you how he’s doing.

PAPA: I’m perfectly fine, mi’hijita. (Susana and Josh help him give up and go out; el Papá

thinks a little, wants to get the box with his old tennis shoes) These shoes are so old, hija.

Actually, I still want them. They’ll help me to go walking in the mornings.

(everyone else leaves with the presents)

(a couple months pass)

SCENE 23B

SUSANA: (talking on the phone): So you’re saying it’s spread from the pancreas to part of the

liver? Yes, he’s been taking the medication. All right, I’ll see to it that he takes it.

I’m going to the pharmacy. See if he’ll take his Ensure with Graciela. He didn’t eat anything

yesterday.

VALENTINA: (to Susana) Mamá, let’s go to Albertsons to get him those chocolate-flavored

Ensure, those are the ones he likes.

PAPA (fighting to sit up in bed): Don’t give me that junk. I’m perfectly fine.

MAMA: Let me put you on this pillow. Let’s go, drink your smoothie.

GRACIELA: (aside, so that her father doesn’t hear) Mami, don’t talk to him like he’s a baby;

you can tell he doesn’t like it.

PAPA: No, vieja, I don’t like it.

MAMA: I’m going to bring you some beef soup that my *comadre made.

GRACIELA: I’ll stay with him. Can I put on the television for you? These tapes that you

bought to learn English, Inglés sin barreras.

63

PAPA: No, mi’hija (Graciela adjusts the pillow)

GRACIELA: Or I can put on some music. Look, *los Dandys or Agustin Lara. Marco Antonio

Muñiz, your favorites.

(Suddenly el Papá sits up in the bed, more alert)

PAPA: I have a meeting with the Lions Club, mi’hijita. Bring me a shirt.

GRACIELA: The Lions Club, papi?

PAPA: Yes, I don’t like to be late. Bring me a shirt. (Graciela runs to the closet and chooses a

*guayabera out of convenience)

GRACIELA: Papi, your feet are really swollen. Papi, it’s just that…

PAPA: There’s the airplane.

GRACIELA: The medicine that you’re taking papi, it makes you see things. The medication is

very strong.

PAPA: I’m perfectly fine. (takes off the guayabera with bravado) (Graciela starts to cry) Why

are you crying?

GRACIELA: Because you’re sick, papi, and I don’t want you to die.

PAPA: This miserable cancer. Just a month ago I was perfectly fine.

(Graciela helps him leave)

MUSICA [los Dandys] (take off all the furniture from the scene while listening to a song

from the Dandys called “Nosotros o Gemar…”)

FINAL SCENE 24

(this final scene is in the form of a collage/flashback and possibly with dancing combined also

with a sense of pain)

64

(people cross in pairs in a diagonal form and in constant motion)

SUSANA: If papá had asked you to marry him again a little bit before he died, would you have

done it?

MAMA: Are you serious? Well maybe (thoughtful) (shrugging her shoulders)…I mean…

SUSANA: What I would like, mami, is for you to forgive me.

MAMA: (surprised) Forgive you?

SUSANA: If papá had asked you to marry him again a little bit before he died, would you have

done it?

MAMA: Are you serious? Well, maybe (thoughtful) Many years had passed. But I don’t believe

it. What I would like, hija, is for you to forgive me.

SUSANA: (surprised) Excuse me?

MAMA: I couldn’t help you with your homework because I didn’t know English.

GRACIELA: Don’t worry about it, mami; what you need now is to learn Chinese.

BETY: Don’t worry about it, mami; what you need now is to do yoga.

PRIMA: (looking at the photo that Bety’s showing her) That’s Rudy? How handsome! (the

cousin takes out the photo of her son) Look, (with pride) this is my son Marco in Baghdad.

BETY: he has owl eyes, it must be because he’s looking for the weapons of mass destruction.

65

MAMA: Well at least I bought you good clothes, when it was on sale, of course, but still good

clothes.

SUSANA: (with the tone her Papa used) Here she goes again.

GRACIELA: (excited) Mami, your hair looks really good this way.

MAMA: You think? (looking at the audience) Are there any good-looking widowers out there?

SUSANA: You just need a positive person in your life, who will influence you and make you

think about things.

BETY: And you, sister, which psychiatrist do you go to?

MAMA: (touching the cloth that she’s wearing as a veil) This cloth is very fine. I’ve always

liked good things. I wonder where it was made.

SUSANA: It really affected papa when los gringos forced him to sell.

BETY: I translated the letter from the Texas Casket Company, a casket company something like

“Starbucks” that are starting to show up everywhere.

MAMA: My daughters, I’m very proud of all my daughters, of all of them!

BETY: A small family lives better.

COUSIN: (to Graciela) I remember that you were doing your doctorate in philosophy, right

cousin, or I mean, doctor.

GRACIELA: Doctora, title pending. This coming month I’ll receive my diploma.

66

PRIMA: With the grace of God.

BETY: Our Father who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name.

GRACIELA: It’s never too late to start studying.

SUSANA: If I hadn’t studied for so many years, I would still be the same age that I am not

(small pause)

BETY: And have the same eyes.

COUSIN: (to Bety): Why did you say that my son has owl eyes?

(Bety shrugs her shoulders, making a gesture of compassion)

GRACIELA: It’s never too late to change the world.

BETY: Depends on what you’re trying to change.

MAMA: It’s never too late to find love.

EVERYONE: It’s never too late.

THE END

67

GLOSSARY A Doctora Without Borders

Abuelito: grandpa Ayúdame: help me! Bestia: (literally “beast”) English equivalent of “pig” Castellano: Another name for the Spanish language, often thought to be of “higher class” although in reality there exists no difference between the two Chicano: Mexican/American, of Mexican descent Chula: good-looking, cute Comadre: the godmother of one’s child/relationship between the godmother and the mother of the godson/daughter Compañeros: friends (los) Dandys, Agustin Lara, Marco Antonio Muñiz: Mexican singers from the ‘50’s, in the genre of romantic ballads Dos y dos son cuatro y cuatro y dos son seis, brinca la tablita yo ya me cansé: a popular children’s addition song Dudo que yo vaya a Vietnam porque mis padres quieren que yo estudie en Harvard Medical School: I doubt whether I will go to Vietnam because my parents want me to study at Harvard Medical School. Es importante que: It’s important that Espero que: I hope that Folklórico: traditional Mexican dances which vary from region to region Gente naca: a derogatory term low-class people

Gringa: foreign (usually white-skinned, English-speaking) woman, can be derogatory Guayabera: a Mexican/Caribbean-style shirt worn in tropical climates Güera: blonde/light-skinned girl Güey: dude Kasuga: Japanese surname Les suplico que vayan: I beg you all to go Los Estados Unidos: The United States

Malinchista: traitor, based on the Mexican story of la Malinche, a native Mexican woman who played a role in the Spanish conquest and became a mistress and translator of Cortéz Mañana: tomorrow Mi’hijita/Mi’hija: my daughter Muchacha: girl No dudo que: I don’t doubt that Nopalitos: prepared pads of the prickly pear cactus Ojalá yo fuera una gringa: I wish I were a white girl Pácatelas: Oh man!/Oh brother! Pinche inglés: damn English Planchona: a mess-up/screw-up, can be insulting or endearing, depending on tone

68

Que gacho! What a bummer!

Quiero que: I want Quinceñera: birthday party for a girl turning 15, similar to the American “sweet-sixteen” Sepa la bola: Who knows? Se oye naco: it sounds bad/low class/ghetto Solicitud: (job/school) application Temo que: I fear that Tía: aunt Universidades septentrionales: Northern universities Vieja: literally means “old woman,” but can be used in an endearing way by the husband referring to his wife Yo le pido a Rudy: I ask that Rudy Yo sacó un A: I got an “A” (incorrect grammar) Yo trabajó en construcción muchos años pasados con gente mexicano: Many years ago I worked in construction with Mexicans. (incorrect grammar) Yucateco/a: Person from the state of Yucatan

69

Nellie Campobello: the One Who Danced on Horseback

Written by: Ana Perches

Translated by: Alexis Kreun

The Mexican Revolution was a tumultuous time in the history of Mexico. In this play,

we get to experience the Revolution first-hand through the eyes of real-life Mexican writer,

ballerina and choreographer, Nellie Campobello. As we follow Nellie’s life, starting with the

young girl seeing bodies hanging outside her windowsill to the woman traveling across the

country, documenting Mexico’s indigenous dances, to the old woman, disrespected and taken

advantage of, we are immersed in the horrors and beauties found in Mexican history. Nellie’s

story, both fascinating and tragic, pulls the Revolution off of the pages of the history book and

makes it real, as if it were happening still today, all around us.

70

Nellie Campobello: the One Who Danced on

Horseback

1. “CIRCULOS”; SOLEMN DANCE

Choreography with solemn music, men and women, revolutionary clothing. The dancers exit

and a black chest exposed in the center [it can have a blanket on top]

The narrator enters while putting on a northern style dress and boots.

2. THE NEIGHBOR AND THE CHEST [CHEST, CHAIR]

NARRATOR: (shaking her clothes): This dress is so old! If you saw all the stuff I took out of

this chest, you wouldn’t believe it. (looks to both sides) I am the neighbor. Petronila Pacheco, at

your service. The neighbor of Nellie Campobello, except I think she has already died, or at least,

there was a long time when her relatives wouldn’t let her go out and I would notice that she

wouldn’t step out the door to pick up the milk or say hi to the postman. The whole house

seemed abandoned, all run-down and dilapidated, and I was wondering if they’d go out so I can

ask, because one time I knocked on their door and they ignored me. This went on for many

years when suddenly, I realized that nobody was living there, not a soul. But the dog was still

there, a Doberman, big and mean, which luckily responded to the name “el manco,” which

means the one-armed guy. And so I go and bring a bone to the Manco. (whistles) Hey, you,

manco, that’s my boy, and then I go in the house. I’ve always been very curious about Nellie,

with her having been a ballerina and when she arrived at the capital she started making

friendships and rubbing shoulders with the snooty people. The classy people. I didn’t go in her

house with bad intentions, I was just curious, I had an itch to know who the woman really was, la

señorita Nellie Campobello. She was at least 80 years old, but even so, she insisted that she was

la senorita Nellie Campobello. Even her books said so. She published them. Who would have

thought that I had a writer as a neighbor, cultured people, although I understand that she never

went to school, but she was still a lady. I’m telling you, there were even a couple Americans that

came here a few years ago to interview her. They knocked on my door by mistake, “I no speek

eenglich” I told them, right away. Can I help you with anything? But they didn’t pay attention to

me. They left but with plans of coming back someday. Anyway, like I was saying, I entered

71

right into her bedroom and saw this chest. I found tons of stuff in this chest, traditional outfits,

really pretty, that she’d been given and used as a young woman, sombreros, mink scarves,

newspaper clippings, old photos, some banknotes from the stone age, some of those little small

square pamphlets with colored ink from fountain pens, books completely covered in dust (takes

them out and blows off the dust), “Cartucho,” “Las manos de mama” and some other books, even

some in English (takes out some more books) “Let’s go with Pancho Villa,” some glasses, (a

little disgusted), some really filthy petticoats, and a mirror….no, it’s a picture…

(makes a motion like a magician and two Americans enter)

3. “THE MIRROR” [CHEST, CHAIR]

Jennifer and her friend in Nellie’s house with the chest

Jennifer Campbell (looking at a photo): Turn of the century. The 90’s. She was born with the

century, this woman of the Mexican Revolution. Francisca Moya Luna.

Espejo: Let me see. (looking at the photo) Is it Nellie Campobello?

Jennifer: (nodding in agreement) She’s something like my great-great-great-great- grandmother

on the Campbell side.

Espejo: Her last name is (pronouncing clearly) Campobello. And yours is Campbell.

Jennifer: One of my ancestors named Campbell went to Durango and fell in love with a

Mexican woman.

Espejo: I know a couple of *gringos who had the same thing happen to them. But your relative

was Gloria’s dad, Nellie’s little sister. He wasn’t Nellie’s father, so there’s no relation between

you and Nellie.

Jennifer: But Nellie, who was called Francisca Moya Luna, wanted to change even her last

name and “Mexican-ize” it to Campobello.

Espejo: But she didn’t have a father.

Jennifer: Of course she had a father.

Espejo: Well yeah, but…

Jennifer: But what?

Espejo: She was illegitimate.

72

Jennifer: What do you mean by that?

Espejo: I mean that one day her mom went out and got knocked up and…I wonder where that

saying comes from? Knocked up...

Jennifer: (skeptically) The books say that she was illegitimate, una hija natural.

Espejo: Well, I guess that’s better than being no-natural.

Jennifer: Sister Juana was also illegitimate.

Espejo: And she also was forgotten. Just another woman.

Jennifer: This is why I want to investigate her story. It has a tragic ending, you know?

Espejo: (sarcastically) Oh yay, another story about another marvelous woman with a tragic

ending!

Jennifer: Don’t you understand? Her student and the husband of the so-called student

kidnapped her. For many years.

Espejo: Her own student?

Jennifer: Nellie was a professor.

Espejo: A teacher. Senorita Nellie Campobello, can we go over this step? What’s it called

again? El tornillo, the screw, that’s what they use in La Negra…” Ay, maestro, this step is so

difficult for me.

Jennifer: A dance teacher.

Espejo: She was a writer.

Jennifer: A dancer.

Espejo: Naturally.

Jennifer: She danced.

Espejo: Even when on horseback.

Jennifer: That’s what they say (opens the book “Yo, Francisca”) Just like in her poetry book

called “Yo, Francisca” signed by Nellie Campobello (Jennifer and her friend stay and read the

poem)

73

4: POEM (“Yo,” poem by N.C.)

They say that I am rough

that I don’t know what I’m saying

because I come from over there

They say

That I come from the dark mountain

I know I came from a place with light

[from here la *Comadre from the beginning starts to recite]

Rough because I keep my head up high

Rough because I am strong

And I am untamed

How many things they say

Because I come from over there

From an obscure corner

Of the mountain

But I know I came

From a place with light.

(everyone leaves the scene)

[Adjust the chest, bring in a TABLE with a table cloth, TWO CHAIRS]

74

(The narrator enters with a big pile of books and magazines.)

5. NARRATOR “IT’S SAID THAT…” That’s what they say, but it has to be the truth. I

talked with her when she’d just barely arrived and she told me about her town over in Durango

where she’d been born. She told me that her mom had known Pancho Villa in Chihuahua when

they moved to Parral. But she most liked to tell about her last few years, the poor woman, when

she didn’t have any relatives and she was in her old age. She’d been living almost 40 years here

in Mexico City and no longer had the post of dance director that’d she’d carried out years before.

Well, she lived all alone, la senorita Campobello, which made it easy for her to accept the young

people that came to live in her house, which she did with one of her students who much later,

nothing stupid about this girl, became a dance teacher herself with everything that la senorita

Campobello had taught her. This student, Cristina, got married with some guy named Claudio

and they had kids. How many? I don’t know, they had loads of little brats and one on the way.

This Cristina continued dancing, she never could quit tapping her feet, and she kept on tapping

with the hopes that her kids would someday too become ballerinas.

6. CRISTINA AND CLAUDIO (decade of the 80’s) [table and two chairs]

Cristina enters, with signs of pregnancy, wearing a traditional embroidered dress and a Yucatan

headdress; Claudio is wearing normal daily clothes. They carry Nellie (old) under their arms

and set her down on a cushion or a blanket on the floor)

Cristina: You don’t think drinking so much liquor is gonna hurt her?

Claudio: You’ve been worrying about this all day. You already know that this is the way we

keep her quiet. This bottle of sotol is from her times, just read the label: (reads) Sotol el siete

leguas*”

Cristina: But yesterday the police came, my love. The kids were scared to death. What’s gonna

happen if they come back to ask us more questions?

Claudio: You’re the idiot, why did you tell them that you used to know her?

Cristina: That’s how it is. After all, she’s like the godmother of our kids. She was my teacher,

my mentor, the mother I never had.

Claudio: That’s what she was. Now she’s nothing but a damn old woman who’s in the way.

And who reeks.

75

Cristina: She’s gonna hear you.

Claudio: She’s deaf as a post.

Nellie: Ah…(makes a sound like she’s wanting to ask for help)

Claudio: the deaf only hear what they want to hear.

(The police knock hard at the door)

Cristina: That’s gotta be the police!

Claudio: Come on, let’s hide her. (Cristina goes to move the table to cover Nellie). Leave that to

me. You’re too delicate. (fixes the tablecloth)

Cristina: (scared) Oh my holy Jesus. (she takes off the shawl and uses it to cover up Nellie)

6B. WITH THE POLICE The same people, plus two policemen, the second one doesn’t talk..

Police: Can we come in?

Cristina: Um…

Police: Does a Mrs. Nellie Campobello live here?

Police: Were you a student of the teacher Nellie Campobello? When was the last time you saw

her?

Cristina: Look, sir, I took, well…one course with her about Huastecan dances, but that was 10

years ago.

Police: Huastecan dance class, my ass. Let’s see, let’s see, which states of the Republic border

the state of San Luis Potosí?

Cristina: Well, let’s see, I remember that in grade school they told us that this state was next to a

lot of states and (nervous) and that adjacent to the aforementioned state they said that all the

states that border this state, yes s..s..sir, it was Tamaulipas, and…Jalisco, Hidalgo

Claudio: (interrupting and elbowing her) Excuse me sir, my wife is pregnant…

Police: What are the states?

Claudio: And…I’ve already told you that nobody else lives here, not anybody named Nellie

Campobello, not Francisca Moya Luna, not Pancha, not anybody.

76

(Nellie makes a shrill noise)

(Policeman 2 makes a sign that there’s something suspicious under the table)

Police: (pointing close to the table): And that? What was that? (shouts) Who lives here?

Cristina: It’s a cat, sir.

Police: A cat?

(the silent policeman makes a cat noise, affirming that it must have been a cat and winks at

Cristina)

Police: (laughs) Having cats is for lunatics. Cats are worthless in these parts. Why this

extravagance? You should have seen the times of the Revolution!

Cristina: (nervous) He’s named Pancho Villa. (Silent cop makes a sign of taking out a pistol like

a cowboy)

Police: (laughing) The cat is named Pancho Villa? Ha! Pancho Villa (Sniffing) I can still smell

the odors of that pig around here. I was with Obregón there in Celaya Guanajuato when we gave

Villa what he deserved.

Claudio: Look, sir, nobody lives her with the last name Moya or Campobello or Campbell or

Campbell Morton.

Police: (to Cristina) But maybe the missus—or miss?—could give us a little information…

Cristina: It’s missus. (Motions discreetly at her stomach)

(Silent cop winks at Cristina)

Police: (Looking at the scarf on the table) And this scarf? (Uncovering Nellie a little bit, who

moans like an enraged cat) Beautiful fringe. Looks like those made in Santa Maria del Rio, in

the beautiful state of San Luis Potosí. Hmmmm. Is it antique? The same scarves were used in

the times of my grandma, may she rest in peace, not like the crap they sell now, made in China.

Claudio: I’ll give you a good price for it. (Cristina makes a sad face)

Police: We’ll figure it out in a little bit. (aside to Claudio) Listen, there’s rumors that there’s

some artwork her by…(trying to remember the name) José Clemente Orozco and they say that

some of the backdrops done by Diego Rivera…I have a Czecslovakian client who…

Cristina: (elbowing Claudio) (firmly) The is not for sale.

Claudio: (to Cristina) You’re gonna be late for your little Yucatecan dance party, my queen.

(Makes a kissing sound)

77

(everyone leaves except for Nellie)

[TAKE OFF ALL THE FURNITURE; put up a WALL that looks like adobe]

7. NELLIE, GLORIA, AND THEIR DOLLS (The narrator enters, and uses the scarf to cover

up Nellie, who’s getting changed for her role as a child, and also to cover the space with the

table) (the narrator wears the same scarf that the policeman had)

NARRATOR: There’s no doubt that a scarf has various uses and, like death, seems to be a

cultural symbol of Mexico. (pauses) Parral, Chihuahua, “a calm afternoon, forgotten in the

history of the Revolution,” era in which started the war of the most cruel and savage guerillas our

country has ever known.” And it was in Parral Chihuahua where Francisca, excuse me, Nellie,

as a little girl could see men shot in front of her eyes, as if she was seeing mashed up piñatas

where one leg ends here and the head is over there and in the end, it’s all piled up in the fight for

the candy. Nellie and her little sister Soledad, who later changed her name to Gloria (Gloria

enters with her dolls)

Nellie: (contemplating two dolls, one is shooting the other) “Cartucho had already found what he

wanted” (Gloria enters) Try to guess how many days this doll has been dead. (She lays it down

and closes his eyes)

Gloria: Ay Nellie, why do you always want our dolls to be dead?

Nellie: And I bet you don’t know why they killed him.

Gloria: Why?

Nellie: They killed him because he wanted to kiss a girl. Go on, guess, how many days has he

been dead? (with a shoe box) Look, this is gonna be his coffin.

Gloria: Three weeks. No, four. What’s it matter?

Nellie: Look closer at the color of his guts.

Gloria: (sarcastically) It’s like you’re a pathologist. I prefer to play school. Like the one Mama

never sent us to…

Nellie: Pow, pow pow, the Villistas are really stickin it to the Federals (a doll says:) “Try to kill

me one more time, you blockheads.” (makes a shooting noise) Mami, mami, another federal just

died. Come and bring him flowers. Prepare the grave to bury him.

78

Gloria: Ay, Nellie, don’t be an idiot. If you’re going to play, play realistically. Mama protects

the villistas. Why would she care about a federal, enemy of the people?

Nellie: (making one of the girl dolls talk to a boy doll) “Don’t shoot them. Can’t you see they’re

Americans? (nudges Gloria to continue the game)

Gloria: (trying to follow the game) Well yes, Americans who chase Villa all over Mexico, trying

to kill him.

Nellie: “I will demolish mountains with my hands,” said Pancho Villa, “I don’t want pale hands

that ask heaven for forgiveness, I want red hands to overthrow mountains.”

Gloria: (frustrated) That doesn’t make sense, Nellie! I’m tired of your deaths. Were’s going to

play that you’re the teacher and you’re going to teach me how to read. We can start with the

vowels, let’s go.

Nellie: Look, little Gloria, pay attention. In Spanish there are only five vowels, easy, right? ‘A’

la muerte se va

Gloria: (death is coming),

Nellie: ‘E’ la muerte se fue

Gloria: (death has left),

Nellie: ‘I’ la muerte está aquí

Gloria:(death is here),

Nellie: ‘O’ la muerte soy yo

Gloria:(death is me),

Nellie:‘U’ la muerte eres tu

Gloria: (death is you)

Nellie: (crushes one of the dolls) That’s what I call dying like a perfect butterfly.

Gloria: Yesterday Mama said that there were 3,000 dead in this Revolution.

Nellie: How many kilos of bodies in total? How many eyes and thoughts? If men knew that

they inspired pity in their final positions, the killing would never stop.

Gloria: (simulating conversation between dolls) Marieta, do you want to go to the dance with

me?

79

Nellie: I would have liked to have wings to be a butterfly riding upon my horse.

Gloria:*(singing) Marieta, don’t be a flirt, because the men they all are dirt.

Nellie:* (singing, interrupting) With my 30-30 I’m going to kill, kill the Carrancistas that Villa

hated, if they ask for my blood, give it to them I will, now I forget how the song

goes…(continues singing)

Gloria: (crying) You always play your game. It always has to be your way.

Nellie: (continuing the song) Villa said, if you wanna go, then be gone, if you back out now, I

won’t respond, My honor I will defend (hums the song while making the dolls dance) (voice of

the Mom in the background) (Gloria continues crying)

Mother: Francisca…Soledad…girls! It’s time for a snack! Come and have some milk with a

sweet potato.

The dolls simulate the war.

Nellie makes her dolls dance a fragment of “con mi 30-30”

GROUP DANCE

9. NARRATOR: “A toda madre” [bring in a TABLE, STOOL for Gloria and Nellie]

Narrator: According to the book by Nellie Campobello, Las manos de mama, her mother was

(with a super melodramatic tone) like the uncut ears of corn […] a hymn, a sunrise, she was

everything. The wheat fields were reflected in her eyes, while her hands, at work, grip the

golden corncobs and form bunches that turn into tortillas, dense with tears. For to her, a smile is

worth more than a cup; an ear of corn, more than a sequined skirt.

9B: LAS COMADRES CHAT [need to have a TABLE and a STOOL]

Mother: Francisca…Soledad…girls!!! (between her teeth) Get in here!! Time for a snack!!

There’s milk with sweet potato and muffins too. (to some soldiers) Here they are, general. I

wrapped them up real good inside the basket so that they’d come out nice and hot. And I added

80

in some chiles that the troops like so much. Look, bring along these dolls so that the *soldaderas

can give them to their kids.

General: Ay, senora, the food that you made for us last time was…(makes a gesture of joy)

freakin’ awesome!!!

Mother: I’m glad that you liked it. (the general leaves)

Comadre: Listen, my friend, how do you manage to make so much food? The stuff my husband

brings me is barely enough to feed our family. And then there’s you, giving out food to all these

blasted soldiers.

Mother: Respect, friend. I know that you’ve walked arm and arm with Carranza but you know

that my loyalty is with Villa. And I’m not gonna let you say that he’s a thief. Villa’s is with the

poor, with the people and that’s why I back him up however I can.

Comadre: Loyalty to Villa! If you were so loyal to Villa, you wouldn’t be such a flirt with

everyone…

Mother: What do you mean, a flirt?

Comadre: Well, what do you have to say about all these suitors? This General guy who keeps

hitting on you, don’t act like you haven’t noticed.

Mother: Well, that’s the advantage of being single, my friend, not like you, who lives under the

yoke of your husband, and it’s not like I don’t appreciate your husband, but no offense, but he’s

no saint.

Comadre: He’s no worse than any other husband. Men must be men.

Mother: Yes, I know, people talk bad about me because my kids have, well each one has their

own father: Soledad, my Gloriecita, is the daughter of that gringo that came by here, that

handsome outsider named Campbell. Never in a million years did I think I could fall in love

with a gringo, they seemed to me kinda….boring, but this guy, he had something, and as you can

see, little Gloriacita is my little sweetheart.

Comadre: And Francisca and the older kids, what about them? Children of the Holy Spirit?

Mother: Ay, my friend, don’t just twiddle your thumbs. Help me to grind more corn for the

troops. I have it here under the loft. (to the daughters) Go tell you brothers to carry in some

water from the well.

Comadre: You are too noble, my friend. God will remember you. But, tell me, how did you

meet this American?

81

Mother: Well, you see, my friend, I had my 5 sons and their father (shakes her head) had run off

drunk. I didn’t have anyone to take care of me, I made ends meet working as a seamstress, and

do you remember when the mining industry in America was in crisis during the first waves of the

Revolution? It was in 1911 and Madera had already won and Villa was on a roll. The gringos

were stressed out about their companies, afraid that they were gonna get taken over. Well, one

day in the town this American shows us (Mr. Campbell enters)

10: MISTER CAMPBELL IN THE MARKET

(The narrator sells fruit off to one side)

Friend: Welcome, Senor Campbell. Ignacio Perez Sedano, at your service. (shake hands)

Sr. Campbell: Ernest Campbell Morton, nice to meet you.

Friend: I’m in charge of welcoming you to our city, Hidalgo del Parral, Chihuahua. I am at

your command, in whatever I can do to serve you. If you’d like, I can give you a tour of our

little town.

Sr. Campbell: Thanks so much, friend, but (looks to both sides) I would really like to meet a

Mexican woman.

Friend: Ahh, well, I’m very sorry, but that’s very difficult here. (Mr. Campbell looks confused)

It’s not like in your land, here all the women are either mouthy or reserved and super religious.

Not to mention, they..well, they don’t like white guys.

(Rafaela enters the scene in front of the men with a basket for getting groceries)

Sr. Campbell: Amigo, take out your notebook and your pencil and take some notes. This class

is for free. (Sr. Campbell leaves his friend and approaches Rafaela)

Sr. Campbell: Hola! I need the opinion of a woman.

Rafaela: Do you need directions to go back to where you came from?

82

(Sr. Campbell turns around to look at his friend, who gives him a face that says “I told you so.”

Sr. Campbell: (in a very playful, flirtatious tone) Oh I understand, well if you want to go to the

United States with me, you have to help me first.

Rafaela: The United States? You must think I’m crazy!

Sr. Campbell: Well it kinda seems like it, I’m starting to regret ever coming to talk to you.

Rafaela: I can’t believe it! (angry tone) I don’t even know you and you’re already saying that

I’m crazy. Wow, you’ve got some *cojones…

Sr. Campbell: Look (interrupts her), I never said you were crazy.

Rafaela: Me, crazy? Your grandma’s crazy!

Sr. Campbell: My grandma? She was part Mexican.

Rafaela: (surprised) Your grandmother? Mexican? Seriously?

Sr. Campbell: No, but she did used to tell me stories about Mexico, when I was a little kid,

especially about Mexican women (winks at Rafaela)

Rafaela: (incredulous) Ay si, and your grandmother, what does she know about us Mexicans?

What kind of stories did she tell you?

Sr. Campbell: Well if you aren’t gonna help me, I’m not gonna tell you.

Rafaela: Fine, what’s your question?

Sr. Campbell: I wanted to know if there is another place close to here where they sell fruit that’s

a little fresher.

Rafaela: Geez! That is the worst excuse a man has ever used to try to talk to me.

Sr. Campbell: So it’s one of two things, either you don’t know where they sell fruit or this is

your way of getting my attention.

Rafaela: Well fine, but just so you’ll leave, walk two blocks and then turn left, and in the corner

you’ll find the freshest fruit in the market.

Sr. Campbell: Gracias (turns around and takes a couple steps)

Rafaela: Wait up, what about those stories that your grandmother told you?

(Sr. Campbell stops, smiles, as if saying mission complete, and offers his arm to Rafaela)

83

Sr. Campbell: If you come with me, I’ll tell you.

(Rafaela comes toward him with a smile and they leave together)

11. I’M GOING UP NORTH [leather chair, on the left side]

NARRATOR: It wouldn’t be the first marriage between two people from countries and cultures

so different. But, Nellie never told me about senor Campbell, that he would end up becoming

her step-dad. Maybe this is why she changed her last name from Moya to Campobello, in honor

of him or because it sounded nicer. Many Americans crossed over to Chihuahua, looking for

Villa, wanting to kill him, but they didn’t find him and Villa had some good laughs at their

expense. The United States continued butting into our business, here in Veracruz and before,

they even showed up in Chapultepec. Why is is that the Americans want to come here to Mexico

when all the Mexicans want to go up there?

(the mothers in the scene, la comadre is hanging clothes and the mother is sitting down, sewing;

every kid enters from a different side, at the same time; while one mother/son couple talks, the

other pantomimes talking)

Ramiro: Mother, I’m going up north. Give me your blessing, cause I’m gonna need it.

Comadre: Son, it’s not too late to end this. Villa is advancing towards the south.

Ramiro: Stop kidding yourself, mother. Villa just lost in Celaya, and even though they cut off

Obregón, what they lost, what they lost. They’re not even fighting for a cause anymore, mother.

It’s just a slaughterhouse between brothers.

Mother: They fight for the poor. They fight for justice.

Pablo: But, what excuse do these Villistas have for going around killing the carrancistas?

They’re part of the people too. Let’s all go, mother, now is the time when we can cross without

problems.

Mother: Nellie, Gloria, Judith, all my kids in the United States? Never!

84

Pablo: They’re short on workers over there, they need us; there’s work harvesting cotton, onions,

and if I go to Chicago, I could even work in construction. Don Rigoberto’s son already told me

that…

Comadre: And where are you gonna work, *hijo? You haven’t even finished high school, and

what about English?

Ramiro: Maybe I’ll be a dishwasher, mom. I’ll send for you guys. I’ll come back with the

money to build you a house.

Comadre: My house is with you, my son. (hugs him)

Pablo: And what do you want? (stands up) To find me shot one of these days like all the others

I’ve seen since I was a kid? We left Villa Ocampo to come here to Parral but, as you’ve already

seen, five years come and go, mom, and the fight goes on between the carrancistas and the

vilistas. And we keep on losing. (squats down next to his mother) They’re gonna order all of us

to go the plaza and there, one by one, they’re gonna shoot us dead, they’re gonna mow us down

right in front of our families. They’re hoping we’ll give them something to eat because Carranza

isen’t even capable of sending them sufficient ammunition and all of us who are villistas (takes

away his mother’s embroidery) they’re gonna humiliate us, mother. (sits down in front of his

mother) Let’s all go, mother.

Mother: (makes gesture of wanting to caress him, but pulls back her hand) They won’t take me

from here.

Ramiro: If you won’t come with me to the United States, then promise me that you’ll go take

cover in Chihuahua or Juarez city. In Juarez I can go to find you because it’s only a short jump

to the other side.

Comadre: I promise you, son. You won’t take me from this country, but we’ll go to Hidalgo del

Parral.

(the two pairs, at the same time)

Pablo: I’m going up north, Mom. There’s no other way.

Mother: (gives him her blessing and Pablo leaves): Virgin Maria, take care of my son!!!

85

11B. NARRATOR: That’s how my father went north. And we never heard anything from him.

After a little while, my mother packed the little that we had and took us out of our little town of

Michoacán to bring us here to Mexico City, we were there for the 40’s, as did so many other

country folk like us. Later my older brother went up to Gringo-land, oh how they went, first one,

then another, then another, until we were left without brothers, without uncles or cousins.

Without boyfriends.

11C. THE DISHWASHER: (Narrator sings)

(From the corrido “El lavaplatos”)

I dreamed in my youth

Of being a movie star

And one of those days I came

To visit Hollywood

One very desperate day

Because of all the revolution

I came over to this side

To work construction

What an adventure

I pulled a fast one

On the damn border patrol

[this scene can end with the Professor knocking on the door and interrupting the song]

86

Or

[at the end of the song, bring in TWO CHAIRS, A BEDSIDE TABLE, A TABLE in

Nellie’s house]

12. AMERICAN PROFESSOR [“NELLIE’S FURNITURE,” BEDSIDE TABLE, TABLE in

Nellie’s house]

(knock on the Narrator’s door)

Narrator: I’m coooommming!!

Profa.: Good afternoon, does the teacher Nellie Campobello live here?

Narrator: She’ll be here in a moment. Can I help you with anything?

Profa: No, thank you.

Narrator: (pauses to overhear, nosy, then exits)

Jennifer Campbell, the American professor, enters. In Nellie’s house, with Nellie, who’s in an

advanced age. Cristina opens the door. During the time that Nellie and the professor are

talking, Cristina and Claudio are spying on them while pretending to do other things.

Cristina: (in a bad mood) Ah, it was you who called to interview my godmother.

Profa: Jennifer Campbell, nice to meet you, I don’t think you’ve been introduced to me yet.

Cristina: (sarcastically) A pleasure.

Nellie: Who is it, Cristina?

Cristina: It’s the American professor.

Nellie: Let her in.

Cristina: My husband will take care of her, I have stuff to do around the house. Here’s my

godmother.

Profa: Gracias.

87

Nellie: Sit down. Where did we end up last time? What was it that you wanted to ask me?

Profa: How old were you when you realized that the deaths that you saw through your window

were because there was a civil war in your country?

Nellie: Revolution sounds better than civil war, don’t you think? Villa was a hero, without him

there wouldn’t have been a revolution. That’s why I gave my archives to Martin Luis Guzmán.

Profa: And with those archives, he wrote Memories of Pancho Villa.

Nellie: And you, what are you doing over here? You say you’re a professor in the United States?

Where at, did you say? In Arizona? You speak Spanish very well.

Profa: Gracias.

Nellie: Why are you thanking me? It’s not like I was the one who taught you. (laughs) Professor

in the United States. Professor of what?

Profa: History. You see, I wanted to write a book about your life.

Nellie: About my life?

Profa: You documented the Revolution better than anybody because you did it from a subjective

perspective. It’s authentic.

Nellie: The authentic doesn’t exist, I’m convinced.

Profa: Your book Cartucho speaks for itself, but there is so much interest about your job as a

choreographer, for example.

Nellie: Oh, it’s been a long time, a very long time, since then. What has it been? 60 years? Do

you want a hot chocolate? Tell me, why are you interested in my story?

Profa: Forgive the indiscretion, I’m just dying of curiosity, was there anything romantic between

you and Martín Luis Guzmán?

Nellie: I’ve never fallen in love. Everyone chased after me and annoyed me, but I never fall for

their tricks. I’ve never fallen in love with anybody. Never…What are you writing?

Profa: I like this phrase. (picking up the thread of the conversation) Then, why did you give

your valuable material to Martín Luis Guzmán?

Nellie: I provided precise and accurate dates. And besides, I thought that I was never going to

publish, while he, well he was already a great writer, later he was exiled to Spain and because a

professor in the United States. But I gave him valuable information about Pancho Villa. It

hadn’t occurred to me that I could publish something myself someday.

88

Profa: But I’ve understood that you’ve been a writer since you were really young, did you ever

show your work to your mom or to Gloria?

Nellie: There was a man who lived in front of use who liked to read my things, Manuel Moya.

He was our uncle.

Claudio: Auntie, it’s time for your cough syrup. (to the professor, disdainfully) Can I get you

another hot chocolate or a Nestle’s Quick? Or do you prefer “*Pancho Pantera?” Strong, daring,

and brave.

Profa: (shakes her head no) Gracias. (to Claudio) Are you Nellie’s nephew?

Claudio: More than her nephew, I’m her compadre, she’s the godmother to my kids. My sife

Cristina is her disciple…well, I call her auntie out of affection. It’s a custom that maybe you

Americans can’t understand. Family is very important, that’s why I have to make sure she takes

her cough syrup before afternoon tea.

Nellie: Let us chat a little. Go water my little plants, ok compadre?

Profa: (to Claudio) I don’t want to interrupt. I really admire your “auntie” and I believe that it is

essential to document her story. (Claudio leaves)

Nellie: Like I was saying…look, (showing a photo) you’re not gonna believe it, but this was me

when I was young. I had just arrived in Mexico City…with my little sister Gloria and…I

remember that later I went to buy some shoes of the latest fashion and a sombrero from that time.

(Claudio enters)

Profa: From the 20s?

Claudio: (give the cough syrup to Nellie) Drink this. (to the Profa) Are you going to stay for tea

with us?

Profa: No, I can’t, thank you though.

Nellie: Tomorrow I’ll tell you more about…

Profa: About your books…

Nellie: About dance, as well.

(Claudio makes a face)

Nellie: Good night.

Profa: Good night, and excuse me.

[everyone freezes]

89

[THE FURNITURE STAYS]

13. THE SECOND INTERVIEW [the same furniture]

NARRATOR: That blonde girl came back several times. What would she have done with all

that information? What interest does such a qualified person, from the United States, have with

this poor woman?

Nellie: But drink a little tequila, come on. I’ll drink with you.

Cristina: Let’s go, old woman, time to sleep.

Profa: Thank you, but…

Nellie: But what? This is what keeps me awake. (Nellie drinks a shot, the professor drinks very

slowly) “It seemed marvelous to me to see so many soldiers. Men on horseback with rifles,

machine guns; all of them looking for the same thing: food.”

Profa: Tell me about your brother, Pablo, the one that went to the United States.

Nellie: He came back in a daze, without even asking for Mom. Being up north messed him up in

the head. He just repeated fragments of my book Cartucho over and over again, but he related

them to his own childhood…

Nellie: (to the professor) Tomorrow I’ll continue telling you about Pablito…poor soul.

Profa: Good night.

[take out all the furniture]

13B. THE GUTS

(Pablo enters following two soldiers)

90

Pablo: What’s up, amigo, I didn’t think I’d ever see you again in this life.

Carrancista: (pushing him) Move it..

Pablo: Listen, what’s this beautiful stuff that you’re carrying?

Soldier: It’s guts.

Pablo: Guts, how beautiful! Jeez, they’re all wrapped up, like there’s no end to them. Whose are

they? Nellie would love to see them.

Soldier: My general Sobarzo, we’re bringing them to bury in the graveyard.

Pablo: You’re gonna bury them in the cemetery?

Carrancista: What, are you deaf?

Pablo: And what were his last words?

Soldier: “If they’re gonna kill me tomorrow, they might was well just kill me today.”

Carrancista: Listen, you, you’re a pretty big guy. Aren’t you Pablo Moya, dona Rafaela’s son?

Pablo: Yeah, why?

Carrancista: Come join us on Carranza’s side.

Pablo: Carranza?

Carracista: Yeah! We just decided to join him this morning! We have enough ammo and

equipment to eat you guys for breakfast.

Pablo: I’m a villista. My mother always taught me to love Villa. She taught us to see Villa as

the perfect warrior and one of the most patriotic Mexicans ever.

Carrancista: You call walking around destroying houses and burning towns patriotic labor, like

they did in Juarez? Why do you think so many people from Chihuahua have left to go establish

themselves in El Paso, Texas.

Pablo: Of course, there’s old Porfirio followers that have mansions on the other side of the River

Bravo now and my mom even told me that they made a street in El Paso: Porfirio Diaz street.

But, what do you have to say about the majority of farmers who have nothing to eat?

Carrancista: We’re gonna take you by force, kid, so that you learn.

91

Pablo: Carranza has betrayed the Revolution. Just cuz he has the United States on his side, he

has glasses with gold frames and a big, grandfatherly beard, he’s from a rich land-owning family

from Coahuila, and he helps those cologne-wearing Sonorans like Obregon and others with their

tongues soaked in tequila. That’s why people like you decide one day to turn your back on Villa

and unite with Carranza.

Carrancista: Ay, kid, you’re hopeless. (takes him by force) I have the authorization to bring you

in to the slammer.

Pablo: (puts up little resistance) Mom, I’ll be back soon, make sure my soup doesn’t get cold.

(remains, with his hands tied)

(mother enters)

Mother: I barely slept, that’s why my eyes are red, so red, it almost looks like I cried blood,

even though I spiked my coffee last night. (unfolds her hands) Ay my son, it seemed like I

would never find you. (gives him a little bag with money). Take this money and this heirloom.

Go up north. Virgin Maria, protect him!! (to Pablo) I don’t want to see your guts on a platter

someday. (leaves)

Pablo: (like in a trance) I saw his shoes, they were dusty; they no longer look like houses, they

were just some black leather that couldn’t tell me anything. (shuffles the cards) 7 of spades, 7 of

hearts, 7 of clubs, 7 of diamonds.

Carrancista: (sarcastic) 7 of spades, my ass (he and the soldier bring him out brusquely; they

leave the deck of cards)

14. I’M GOING TO SING A CORRIDO

Narrator: (picking up the deck of cards) The 7 of hearts. Will it be good luck or bad? He was

called “Seven leagues,” the mare of Pancho Villa, and “Seven Leagues” is the brand of liquor

made in the mountains of Chihuahua. The pride of Nellie was that, according to her, she had

descended from grandparents who didn’t have to work. “I’m from the mountains of Durango,”

she commented to me one time, “and I owe my spirit to my Comanche blood.” Hmmm…she felt

her freedom for the first time the day that she got onto her horse, riding it like a man, with one

leg on each side. That was her school. I also didn’t have much schooling, but, if you let me, I’m

going to sing El corridor de Nellie Campobello for you. (prepares to sing) (with music, guitarist,

and flutist)

92

The Corrido of Nellie Campobello

(by Ana Perches)

Born in the year 1900

A new century just begun

Desert woman from the north

Rough for what it’s worth

My friends I’m going to sing

About the horrible misfortune

Of a noble ballerina

That ended in the grave

Like a young pony

Of a modest, humble name

From Villa Ocampo Durango

Nellie Campobello came

From a very tender age

Riding horses was her love

And this fine young mare learned

To mount them like a man

She was born a bastard child

93

Named Francisca by her mother

Between bullets and gunshots

Her youth passed by

Her tender eyes watched

Soldiers, men and women

Followers of Pancho Villa

People rough from the mountains

The streets were all covered

Upholstered with the dead

Bodies, brave and fearless

Cannon fodder for the war

Pancho Villa used to say

Now I’m heading for Parral

There death awaits me

My luck has come to an end

Said Nellie, the little girl

Everything has a price

Remember that Madero

Paid for freedom with his life

This is, more or less, the story

94

That I want to tell

I also am from the north

I am ready, so bring it on

END OF ACT 1

ACT II

15. THE 20’S: MEXICO CITY [“Nellie’s furniture” on the right side]

Nellie: What do you think about my new shoes? Tina says they’re all the rage in Paris. Of

course, that’s what she says but I doubt whether she’s actually been to Paris. Ever since she left

her middle-of-nowhere town in Italy, she hasn’t crossed back over the ocean, but I believe she

knows what she’s talking about.

Gloria: They’re divine.

Nellie: What do you mean? They’re “wow”!

Gloria: Ay, Nellie, I don’t even recognize you. It’s not like we live in New York.

Nellie: Screw New York. Here in Mexico we’re dressed better than anyone in New York! You

saw how our brother never got used to that place.

Gloria: Our brother only got to Oklahoma, even though his dream was Chicago.

Nellie: (looking at the shoes) And a lot cuter. Much more “chic.” What would mother say if she

could see us like this? Would she be happy?

Gloria: She’d scold us. (putting on a sombrero that Nellie just bought) And she’d also be happy.

And this sombrero? It must have cost you an arm and a leg! You should at least make it worth it

and get your picture taken by la Modotti. (puts the sombrero on Nellie)

Nellie: No way! I’m not “indian” enough for her. I never would have thought of taking pictures

of the games in the market. Would you?

95

Gloria: No, nor photos of men with their country hats reading el “Machete”.

Nellie: The foreigners see Mexico in a different light.

Gloria: (with admiration) You saw what Ana Pavlona did, the best ballerina in Russian ballet, la

crème de la crème, dancing el the Guadalajaran Jarabe on her tiptoes.

Nellie: With her dance partner, (pronouncing in French) Alexandre Volinine, dressed up all

gaudy from head to toe!! Ah, I have a surprise for you. (taking out an envelope) We’ve just been

accepted to the prestigious ballet of Lettie Carroll. (jumping and doing ballet steps) We’re going

to be part of the Carroll Girls!!! (corrects her pronunciation of “girls”)

Gloria: (shouts with excitement and begins to tap dance) (hugs her sister) And, how are we

going to finish out the next two weeks? We have nothing in the pantry, and our little brothers are

almost home from school.

Nellie: Don’t worry, sister. I’ll be in charge of it. If we have to, we can move to Mexico City.

Can you believe it? That someone from Parral or Juarez would be able to meet Jose Clemente

Orozco?

Gloria: Or Frida Kahlo, Tina Modotti.

Nellie: Or the Cuban Antonio Mella. What a hunk!

Gloria: Or Dr. Atl (laughs)

Nellie: (with disgust) Agghhhhh!

Gloria: Yesterday he invited me to his convent.

Nellie: Yeah right he’s a monk. You saw how he cast a spell on the most bewitching woman of

Mexico, Carmen Mondragón, until she even changed her name, he gave her a Nahualt name,

Nahui Olin, or something like that. This doctor Atl.

Gloria: He must have something going for him.

Nellie: Heart-breaker

Gloria: Dirty old man.

Gloria: What would mama always say?

Nellie: Yes girls, play; that’s why you have a mother, and if you want to break the dishes, then

break them. (get ready to go out)

96

Gloria: (thinking about her mother with tenderness) Just like you wrote in your poem: “To her, a

smile was worth more than a cup; an ear of corn, more than a sequin.” (pauses) And now, where

are you going?

Nellie: (leaving money on the table) I’m going out with the philosopher José Vasconcelos.

Don’t be so appalled. We’re going to talk about business. (she finished putting on lipstick) How

do I look?

Gloria: (skeptical and annoyed) Very businesslike.

Nellie: (saying good bye) The Carroll Girls!! Nellie and Gloria Campbell Morton.

Gloria: (nostalgically) If you want to break the dishes, than break them. (does a tap dance step)

THE CARROLL GIRLS

(The Americans get ready, fixing their hair, putting on their shoes, etc)

Susan: (to Annette) So how long have you all been in Mexico?

Annette: As far as I can remember. It’s like home to me.

Beverly: Same here.

Annette: And your friends? (signaling to Judy)

Susan: Judy? She’s Australian and doesn’t speak Spanish but I told her the teacher’s American.

(gossipy) Her father’s the new ambassador from Australia!

Teacher: Ok settle down girls, get in pairs to start the warm-up exercise. Where are the

Campbell girls? Nellie and Gloria? Late as usual.

(Gloria and Nellie arrive)

Annette: This is my first day, are you also a beginner?

Gloria: What? No, no, my sister and I have been dancing here for one jeer or more.

Annette: (correcting her) One YEAR. Ah, so you’re Mexicans? The teacher said Campbell, so I

thought…(Gloria interrupts)

Gloria: And you’re American?

97

Annette: Yeah, I was born in Michigan but my parents have lived here for many years. Ellos les

encantan Mexico.

Gloria: (correcting her Spanish) A ellos les encanta Mexico.

Annette: That’s what I said. Well, during the Revolution they went back to Michigan where I

was born but now that Mexico’s at peace again, we’re here. Here to stay! We’re loving it!

(The teacher picks up the newspaper and starts to read)

Teacher: “Las Carroll Girls se lucieron anoche…” Nelly, can you please read this?

Nellie: (reading the newspaper) “The Carroll girls shone last night in their annual recital where

they presented the dance “An Oriental Fantasy.” The enchanting group of young ladies from the

highest metropolitan society and foreign colonies…”

Beverly: Young ladies from the highest society!

Susan: That’s us.

Nellie: “...also presented “A Pastoral Fantasy,” with a duet performed by Miss Gloria and Miss

Nellie Campbell Morton.”

Annette: (to Nellie) You came out as a boy?

Gloria: (continuing the reading) “Lettie Carroll’s girls are proving to be more and more

omnipresent in the theatrical world with every performance, and not only in Mexico. They’re

already preparing their tour of Habana this coming month.

Teacher: It’s true, girls, so remember that we have to practice more, not talk more.

Beverly: Look, Nellie, what they say about you. (continuing the reading) “Miss Nellie

Campbell Morton passed beautifully through the scene, with her silver dress, and Miss Gloria

Campbell Morton, her 14 year old sister…”

Annette: (to Susan) She’s not fourteen!

Beverly: (continuing) “possesses an intuitive grace and extraordinary lines.”

Annette: (to Gloria) So how old are you, little Miss Gloria?

Gloria: Old enough to go to Habana. (to Nellie) Nellie, Who knows who’s going to be in Cuba

the same time as us.

Nellie: All Mexicans dream of going to Cuba, don’t they? Who do you think?

98

Gloria: Federico García Lorca.

Teacher: Who?

Nellie: (stupefied) Even if I know the way, I never will reach Lorca, The Reaper is watching me

from the tall towers of Durango…

Teacher: Who?

Beverly: (to Nellie) Don’t get so sad. Of course we’re going to meet him. Maybe it will make

you feel better if you continue with your poetry.

Nellie: I should be the one to make myself feel better.

Teacher: Okay, girls, put the paper away.

Annette: (looking at the newspaper) She still looks like a boy!

Teacher: Let’s go, girls, let’s start practicing because like this, nobody is going to meet Lorca or

anybody in Habana…Follow my assistant. Let’s start with Fla-ap; Ball chance…

(the scene ends with Carroll Girls and te Narrator, (this last dress with pink colored leggings

and a short china poblana (quintessential Mexican skirt)), dancing to the rhythm for “Tea for

two” with the style of jazz/Broadway with some tap steps; everyone goes out and leaves Gloria

behind; the music changes drastically to the sounds of La Negra and Gloria starts the steps

while she leaves the stage)

17. SR. CHAVEZ SCENE (Era of 1937, more or less. In the afternoon, in a Mexican City

restaurant, extremely elegant; two women and a man are at another table eating an appetizer

and smoking) [two SMALL TABLES, one with two chairs and the other with three chairs]

Sr. Chávez: Why do you want to open your own school? They’re a big headache. It’s better if

you just don’t worry about it. I’ll take care of…well, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about. I

don’t know how much longer I want to stay in politics; Irene wanted me to retire soon and also,

well you know that my kids are getting bigger.

Nellie: Your kids, your wife Irene, your family. (with sadness) And, our kid?

Sr. Chavez: We already decided that we weren’t gonna talk about that again!

Nellie: (hurt) About that. I won’t talk about that again. (sad)

99

Sr. Chavez: You’re the one who had the bright idea of getting knocked up and almost ruining

my marriage. And my political career.

Nellie: Yes, and when our son died, I almost heard you say between your teeth: “Every cloud has

a silver lining.”

Sr. Chavez: (touches her cheek) Don’t be like that.

Nellie: (recovering her composure) Having my own school is my dream, just like you achieved

your dream of being governor of…like you always say…governor of Chihuahua: the biggest

state in the Republic.

Sr. Chavez: Yes, my queen, but that’s different. You’re a woman, so you’ll be taken care of.

You don’t need to dream.

Nellie: Hold on a second. I, as a woman, lived through the most important stages of the

Revolution, I as a woman wrote a book about the Revolution and I as a woman obtained

information about Pancho Villa that not even the most macho of men dared to divulge because in

comparison with Villa, they would seem small.

Sr. Chavez: You’re not the 17-year-old girl that I met anymore, the one who worked as a ticket

seller in the Heroes theater, which was, of course, a job that I got for you. (pauses, touching his

new hairstyle) The capital has changed you a lot. Before you were more natural, more

unfriendly and tomboy-ish, more northern. But that’s why I liked you, a wild horse.

Nellie: Wild mare, you called me. (in a low voice) And you rode me bareback.

Sr. Chavez: I risked my marriage for you and I warned you that I was never going to leave my

wife, that what we had was different. I dressed you up nice and pretty, but not so that you can

get together with these bomenian people who say they’re artists with these socialist ideas, these

Lenin and Trotsky supporters and all that…bullshit. I dressed you p so that you’d act like a lady.

Nellie: Those artists are an example of this country, they’re a product of our revolution, they’re

the soul and the spirit of modern Mexico. Actually, it was *Dr. Atl who encouraged me to

publish my poem book because nobody else encourage me, oh and yes, about risking your

matrimony…or should I say martyr-mony…

Sr. Chavez: (interrupting) Doctor Atl is an idiot who sleeps with all his models. (jealous) Don’t

tell me that he painted you as well.

Nellie: Why do you ask? (defiantly) It wouldn’t be the first time some guy has seen me naked.

Sr. Chavez: (scandalized) You’re too much of a lady to say something like that. Leave that for

Frida Kahlo, that crazy woman with the mustache. She’s hideous. No, Nellie, now you’re not

the decent little girl that I once knew.

100

Nellie: Well let me tell you, I’m not the idiotic little girl who followed you around. (gives him an

envelope)

Sr. Chavez: And this? (appears paralyzed)

Nellie: Open it and you’ll see. (fixes her sombrero) (sarcastically) With your permission, sir ex-

governor of the hugest, most right-winged, and most screwed-up state in the republic…I have a

date with *Frida and Diego. We’re going to celebrate *Tina Modotti’s birthday and Doctor Atl’s

Saint’s Day. (leaves singing “*Yo soy rielera, tengo mi Juan, el es mi vida yo soy su querer,

cuando me dicen que ya sale el ten, adios senor gober, me voy con mi Juan”*)

Sr. Chavez: (reading the card) “Dear Miss Campobello， it is my pleasure to inform you that as

of the 20th day of the current month, I appoint you as the director of the National School of

Dance. Signed, the president of the Republic of Mexico, Lazaro Carcenas”. (Nellie grabs the

card and leaves him standing)

18. INTERVIEW WITH PANIATWOSKA

(In the National School of Dance, dancers are rehearsing with Nellie and Gloria; the reporter

(woman) enters)

Nellie: Un, dos, tres, cuatro, y un, dos, tres, cuatro. (the Reporter enters looking for Nellie and

makes a sign)

Reporter: Teacher Campobello, thank you so much for this opportunity…

Nellie: Ay, yes, you are…Elena.

Reporter: Elena Poniatowska.

Nellie: (to one of her students) Go over some of the steps and don’t forget that we premier in one

week and that we’ll have very important people in the audience. (to Gloria) I have to take care of

this little girl. (to the Reporter)

Reporter: Tell me, Teacher Campobello, do you opine that your choreographical style continues

to have that revolutionary Je ne sais quois of, shall we say, taking up arms?

Nellie: Well, of course, can’t you see how we’ve captured the story of the Revolution in our

choreography?

101

Reporter: What was your objective in writing about the indigenous dances of this country?

Nellie: See, well, my book talks about…

Gloria: Our book tried to save the dances that, if they aren’t documented, could be lost into

oblivion…

Nellie: Gloria, why don’t you make sure they’re doing the steps correctly?

(argue for a moment while the Reporter takes advantage of the opportunity to interview a student

who arrives late, dressed as an Aztec)

Reporter: (to Itzazihuatl) I know you, didn’t you dance with that group of little white girls,

the…

Itzazihuatl: The Carroll Girls

Reporter: Your name is Annette Mc Farland, right? And what are you doing here?

Itzazihuatl: My name was Annette McFarland but Dr. Atl changed my name to Itzazihuatl [it-

sa-si-wal] because it’s in the Aztc style and he says I am like a volcano.

Reporter: Ah, of course. (Nellie interrupts)

Nellie： (interrupting) Please, Itzazihuatl, practice your dance with Popocateplt. (to Reporter)

Yes, miss, or is it Doctor? Poniatowska, we’re not trying to do a tribal dance, rather we want to

integrate the elements to create real art, not your tourist-version Mexican stereotype with a taco

and a sombrero.

Gloria: Because we consider it necessary to recognize the great worth of our indigenous cultures

and as Mexicans, we don’t have to keep imitating the European models…

Reporter: (chuckle) But wasn’t it Nellie who appeared as Peter Pan in that one little group, what

was it called…the Carroll Girls?

Nellie: (interrupting) Here we have everything we need to achieve a unique and varied dance,

born of the National fervor that our Revolution left us with.

Reporter: Some people criticize the fact that you guys incorporate ballet steps in the Jarabe

Tapatio, not appreciated the true tradition from which some country dances emanate. What is

your goal in combining the European with the Mexican?

Gloria: My training in classic ballet has helped extend me in millions of directions although the

classic ballet seems, at first glance, incompatible with our indigenous dances.

102

Nellie: (impatient) The Mexican style includes the European and the indigenous. What would

our northern dances be without the influence of the Polish?

Reporter: We’re not going to talk about politics here, Miss Campobello. I’m in charge of the

cultural section of the Excelsior, if you please. So, why would you sacrifice the pure Mexican

style for a European-ized pastiche?

Gloria: Even Diego Rivera studied in Paris.

Reporter: And, forgive the indiscretion, but, who is going to be in charge of the backgrounds for

your next ballet?

Nellie: (bragging) Diego Rivera

Gloria: (sure of herself) Orozco (the two sisters look at each other with conflict)

Nellie: (insisting) Diego Rivera

Gloria: Orozco (Nellie, angry, goes with her students.)

Reporter: (to Gloria, aside) So Gloria, is it true that sometimes you and Nellie would take a

bath naked in the fountain in front of the Castle of Chapultepec?

Gloria: Naked? Are you crazy? And why are you calling me by my first name? Who told you

that? (stands up to supervise the students) (the reporter follows Nellie) (Nellie releases the

students)

Nellie: (to the students) I want perfection. There’s going to be very important people in the

audience.

Reporter: And tell me, teacher Campobello, who is this very important person who is going to

be in the audience for your show?

Nellie: Well, nobody less than the president Adolfo Lopez Mateos.

Reporter: (impressed but joking) All you need now is President Eisenhower.

Gloria: Well almost 20 years ago the president Lazaro Cardenas came to one of our dances.

Reporter: Well, how old are you Nellie?

Gloria: Ask us about our projects. (tells her Nellie’s age in secret)

Reporter: (surprised) 58 years old! (recovering her professionalism) What are your upcoming

projects?

103

Nellie: Our goal is to continue producing ballets that highlight the artistic variety of all the

regions of our Republic of Mexico.

19. BEAUTIFUL MOTHERLAND

Narrator: (wearing a dress from Chihuhua; seated beside the bhest, reciting while the models

enter) “Indigenous rhythms of Mexico,” 1940. (reading) My indigenous dance, simple offering

of steps not counted, pride in its pain, cries for the Mexican men dead from the Revolution of all

Revolutions.” “The model of my feelings is the tarahumara. (A woman appears wearing a

tarahumara) with its humble majesty of poverty.” Mountains of Chihuhua with golden cornmeal,

the feet of the Raramuri on the frozen mountain. During Lent el *tesguino blesses them but

nobody really understands what it means. (a man enters dressed like the Huichol) Gentle

huichol, seller of beaded masks, your posture contradicts your poverty and your embroidered

satchel doesn’t weigh you down; you say yes to both the poor and the rich and you give yourself

entirely, generous and flattering; (a woman enters dressed like the Chiapas) (parodying

traditional tone of oration) “Chiapas, letter of upside-down hills, of trees and crags, on your

summit I dance between the herbs and pebbles. The voice of the people is heard in the rhythm of

my steps.” (giving her own version) Chiapas: foreigners indulge you, anachronistically, absurdly;

You covered the incense burner with your rosary, changing your *nopal for a hot dog; Not like

Marcos with the honey eyes that conquers ideologies by chatting with gringos. (a woman enters

wearing a dress from the Yucatan) Yucatan, you are always the same, faithful to your good-

natured neighbors from Campeche, your substance is corn; it wasn’t for nothing that Popol Vuh

sings of you, sacred book of Guatemala. (a couple enters dressed like Veracruz) “Veracruz,

shore of the sea, I brought you from my North, blue sand in the wheat, and on your beach,

scattered, the roads braided.” Veracruz, heaven of flying fish, serpentine rays of coffee; Tajin,

from their niches, the Jarochos and Huastecos both watch you; (a couple from Jalisco enters)

Valley of Jalisco, shores of Bajio, you unite the north and the south, the Menonite quilt with

Zapatista squares. Beautiful motherland, your hands sew little dresses and prisoner aprons.

Your bid knows, dancer of the Jarabe, trots like an energetic horse, a young mare clawing at the

sky.

Darkness [take away the chest] unfit

20. DANCE OF THE GUADALAJARAN JARABE (four couples)

104

Nellie: We want to offer the public the energizing Maguey* juice that flows from our proud race,

dancers of the jarabe. Ready? (the dance starts)

21. THE CONDOLENCE (1970’s)

(Narrator enters, with a simple street dress, 70’s style)

(Nellie here was a gray-haired wig and a mourning dress with dark lenses)

Narrator: Oh that Miss Nellie! She really got around. They even say that she was in Cuba for a

little while and continued dancing and dancing with her little sister Gloria. Mexico became, how

do they say it? Modernized. They built lots of buildings with the coming of the Olympics and

later, a nephew of mine, he was there in the chaos the very day of the *slaughter of Tlatelolco

and barely survived. Bah, but with how the government is, whether it be PRI or PAN, that’s

never gonna change…like my grandma always said, they’re a den of thieves. I say that we

should have had another party, don’t you think? One that would be Revolutionary. Well, if one

day I went out on the street and wouldn’t you know it, I ran into Nellie. (Nellie enters)

Narrator: Dona Nellie?

Nellie: Yes?

Narrator: I’m your neighbor, Petronila. Forgive me, but I see that you’re in mourning…

Nellie: It’s the anniversary of my sister Gloria’s death, and then, unexpectedly…

Narrator: (hugs her) My most sincere sympathy.

Nellie: ….my good friend, Martin Luis Guzman, just passed away.

Narrator: Oh I’m so sorry! My most sincere sympathy. And, are you going to continue giving

classes?

Nellie： (with resentment) Our president Luis Echeverria closes the school on me, he who

always preaches that we have to protect our Mexican heritage.

Narrator: What do you mean?

Nellie: Now he’s gonna put the Cuban embassy there.

Narrator: What used to be your dance school is now going to be the Cuban embassy? And why

don’t you try to talk to the president Echeverria? You have your connections.

105

Nellie: Impossible. He’s always off touring the world, flaunting his *guayabera, so Mexican.

Narrator: And what do you plan to do now?

Nellie: One of my students is going to teach classes and since she needs a space, I’m going to let

her use my porch. The poor girl doesn’t even have a place to live. I have extra rooms in my

house, so I’m going to let her and her husband stay there.

Narrator: You’re a really good woman, Doña Nellie.

Nellie: My mom always said that when we help others “If you were in the same conditions, I

would be with you”

Narrator: Well, be careful, Doña Nellie, you know how the saying goes, “they’ll bite the hand

that feeds them.”

Nellie: My mother never regretted having helped her neighbor.

22. LEGAL TRIAL

(a group of protesters outside of the court room with signs that say “Where is Nellie

Campobello?” “Why are they hiding her?” “We want justice” etc)

Judge: Get out of here. Protesting is not permitted within 10 meters of the courtroom.

Protester #1: Your Honor, you have to rectify this situation. They have Senorita Nellie

Campobello imprisoned in her own home.

Protester 2: They kidnapped her.

Protester 3: They mistreat her and don’t let her leave.

Judge: Everything will be done according to the law. (signs to a police officer to disperse the

protesters)

Protester 3: Don’t let us down. (the police officer calms down the protesters)

(the Judge gains entrance to the court)

106

Judge: (to the police officer) Write this down please. Date of this trial, 19th

of February, 1985.

The prosecutor and the accused can please pass forward, along with the witnesses, if there are

any. (Lawyer, Claudio, and Cristina enter)

Police officer: (aside, to the judge) The witnesses aren’t here.

Judge: What do you mean, aren’t here? And what about the district attorney? And the relative

of the alleged victim?

Police officer: I guess they’ve been receiving threats, from these two (signing at the lawyer, etc)

Judge: (to Claudio) State your name and place of birth.

Claudio: Claudio Nino Fuentes, originally from Matamoros, Tamaulipas

Judge: (to Cristina) And you?

Cristina: Cristina Belmont Huerta from Aguascalientes, Aguascalientes (pronounced

Aguascalientesjun, exaggerated). (continues praying) Hail Mary, full of grace. Our Lord is with

thee. Blessed art thou among women, and blessed is the fruit of your tomb.

Cluadio: (corrects her) Your womb.

Judge: Please, people, this is a secular court. (to Cristina) Is it true that you were the legal

representative for 15 years of the dance school owned by Miss Nellie Campobello, also known as

Francisca Moya Luna?

Cristina: (to Claudio) What do I tell him? (Claudio indicates that she say “no”)

Judge: Yes or no?

Cristina: Yes, your Honor, yes I served as her legal representative.

Lawyer: My clients have been accused unjustly. There is no poff that this compassionate couple

have deprived Missus Nellie Campobello of her freedom. Excuse me, Miss Campobello.

(Claudio and Cristina to one side, praying, Hail Mary, Full of Grace, The Lord is with thee.

Blessed art thou among women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus.)

Judge: We have witnesses who declare the contrary. They’re on their way.

Lawyer: Excuse me, your Honor, in order for you to see for yourself that this kidnapping thing

is all rumors, I have brought in the best possible proof…(two body guards bring in Nellie, who

comes supported by a walker or a cane) (Claudio pretends to be a gentleman and helps her to sit

down)

Judge: (to Nellie) State your name and your city of birth.

107

Nellie: My name is Nellie Campobello, born in Villa Ocampo Durango.

Lawyer: (to Nellie) Tell the judge who you live with.

Nellie: I live in my house on Ezequiel Montes Street, number 512 (looking at a little paper that

she takes out of her bra) with this couple who is watching over me for the sake of my health.

Lawyer: (pointing at a newspaper) Look at this “I am not crazy, neither have I been coerced.

Nobody has me kidnapped, signed Nellie Campobello”, el Excélsior, February 5, 1985.

Judge: (to Nellie) You wrote this by your own free will?

Nellie: (to the lawyer) I wrote what?

Lawyer: (to Nellie) Just say yes.

Nellie: (to the judge) Yes, I wrote Cartucho of my own free will. Have you read it?

Judge: (with curiosity and shame) No.

Lawyer: (to the Judge) I’ve shown you her already, let’s go now.

Judge: Hold on one second. The state authorities will be in charge of Miss Nellie Campobello

while it is determined if her alleged guardians are guilty or not. Because of the lack of witnesses,

for now I’m going to release them on bail and we’ll reconvene in 15 days. Session concluded for

today. Go to room 403, where they’ll give you papers for you to sign. (they leave) (the judge

reviews the documents) (to the police officer) Go see if they’re finished yet. (the police officer

leaves)

Police Officer: They already left.

Judge: What do you mean, they’ve left?

Police Officer: They ran away.

Judge: And why aren’t you following them? You really think they can run very fast with that

little old lady? Run and call a police car and arrest them immediately. This is a nightmare!

(firmly) They’re not gonna get away with this!

23. FINAL VISITS

(Jennifer enters while Petronila tries to put on a dress)

108

Jennifer: And your neighbor, the teacher Nellie Campobello?

Narrator: Are you kidding? She doesn’t live here anymore. Who knows where she went. It’s

been more than ten years since I’ve seen her. But, if you want, we can go to my house in a

moment and drink some coffee.

Jennifer: Thanks, but I have to go.

23B. CLOSING THE CHEST

Narrator: And every day, the house looked more and more rundown, and that dog, by some

miracle, kept on barking. And I already told you how I managed to get in.

Protestor: (knocks on the door while Petronila tries to put on a dress)

Narrator: (Scared) Yes?

Protestor 1: We’re from the Commission of Human Rights from the capital.

Narrator: Commission of what?

Protestor 2: Commission of Human Rights. We’ve spent many years working on the case of

Nellie Campobello. Do you live around here?

Narrator: (Scared) Well, I’m the next-door neighbor, and I came to…

Protestor 1: Did you know Nellie Campobello?

Narrator: (nervous) Well of course, I’m her neighbor and I came in because I saw it was open.

(hear the dog barking) Don’t worry, I’ve trapped the dog in the bathroom. I just came over out

of pure curiosity and because I was worried about my neighbor, of course.

Protestor 1: Don’t worry, more than anything we just want some facts. Nellie Campobello’s

was just discovered.

Narrator: Lord have mercy. (crosses herself) Where, right outside here?

Protestor 1: No, in the state of Hidalgo and it’s a common grave without her name. It only says

“SRITA. NCM-FML.”

Protestor 2: Nellie Campobello Moya, or Morton? Or Francisca Moya Luna.

109

Protestor 1: It was that Claudio Fuentes who buried her, 12 years ago, without telling anyone

that she had died.

Narrator: (surprised) Claudio Fuentes, the one who said he was her compadre? (protestor 2

glances over the house)

Protestor 2: (taking pictures) They’ve already taken everything. There’s nothing of value left.

Protestor 1: Well, what do you expect? Cluadio Fuentes’s lawyer managed to obtain the deed of

the house, which obviously he’s abandoned, well he took all the canvasses by Orozco, the

paintings and only left (looks around) …ah, a chest. (starts to take out a dress)

Narrator: I knew those two were up to something. So what now? You’re not gonna do anything?

Protestor 1: After the grave was found, the case was reopened and Claudio Fuentes was

sentenced to 27 years in prison. Cristina disappeared.

Narrator: That Claudio deserves 127 years in the slammer.

Investigator 1: Unfortunately, the Superior Court just revoked both his sentence and his

lawyer’s, who was his accomplice.

Narrator: Revoked his sentence?

Investigator 1: Yeah, they’ll stay two months in jail, be given an appeal and be set free.

Narrator: And Cristina？

Investigator 2: Still a fugitive.

Narrator: (scandalized) Maybe Claudio killed her?

Investigator 2: Unfortunately, the case is already considered closed. However, we want to

continue investigating. Tell us, as her neighbor, what did you know about her?

Narrator: Well, since we’re off the record, look at what I found in this chest. There were a

couple dresses…and some pictures…a natural beauty, with her little sister Gloria.

Investigator 1: Well, since we’re off the record. Would it bother you guys if I try on this dress?

(leaves to try on the dress from “La Adelita”)

Narrator: And the books…I gotta tell you, that book Cartucho even piqued my interest, and I

never read.

Investigator 2: Of course! Cartucho is a gem, comparable to Llano en llamas by Rulfo, only

Nellie was more than 20 years ahead of his time.

110

Narrator: This book is actually important?

Investigator 2: (academic) Cartucho created a feminocentric vision.

Narrator: Femino-what?

Investigator 2: With alternate forms of historicity. The narrator distinguishes its speech…(the

Narrator interrupts)

Narrator: Well, I don’t know about that but, jeez, you feel like you’re living the

Revolution…you can hear the gunshots, smell the leather of the ammo belts,and touch the guts

of general Sobarzo, you feel the raw pain of…but they don’t teach about her in the universities?

Investigator 2: Not enough. (with real interest) But, tell me, you’ve never had the chance to see

one of her dances? The dance of the Adelita, for example…

Narrator: You kidding me? That stuff’s for rich people!

Investigator 2: (intrigued) Tell me more about Nellie.

Narrator: You’re more informed than I am. I’m just the neighbor. I only know what she told

me right after she arrived, and of course other people say a lot of things about Nellie

Campobello…(starts turning down the lights), they say that she danced on horseback…but if

you’d like, you can help me with this chest and I’ll bring you to my house where we can talk as

long as we want. Your friend will figure out where we went. I don’t have much to offer you but

I can make you some sandwiches…

Investigator 2: And…the dog?

Narrator: His bark is worse than his bite…

(Revolutionary music)

24: BAILE ADELITA (or another lively dance from the Revolution)

FIN

111

GLOSSARY Nellie Campobello: the One Who Danced on Horseback

Comadre the godmother of one’s child

Carranza, Venustiano

(Carrancistas)

one of the leaders of the Mexican Revolution, ultimately

became President of Mexico

Cojones "you've got balls," "you've got nerve"

Dr. Atl Mexican painter and writer, real name is Gerardo Murillo

Frida and Diego famous Mexican artists from the 1930's to the1950's

General Sobarzo a character in the novel Cartucho by Nellie Campobello

Gringo foreigner (usually white-skinned, English-speaking), can be derogatory

Guayabera a Mexican/Caribbean style shirt worn in tropical climates

Guzmán, Martin Luis wrote stories about the Revolution in which Pancho Villa is presented as a hero.

Hijo son

Maguey native plant of Mexico used for making tequila

Nopal prickly pear cactus

Obregón commander of the revolutionary forces in northwestern Mexico,

President of Mexico from 1920 to 1924.

Pancho Pantera brand name of a chocolate milk

Pancho Villa(Villistas) one of the most prominent Mexican Revolutionary generals.

Porfirio refers to Porfirio Díaz, Mexican president from 1876-1911,

considered by historians to have been a dictator,

he is a controversial figure in Mexican history

Rivera, Diego prominent Mexican painter and husband of Frida Kahlo.

His large wall works in fresco helped establish the

Mexican Mural Movement in Mexican art.

Slaughter of Tlatelolco October 2, 1968 in Mexico City, student protest violently ended

by the Mexican government

Soldaderas women soldiers or women who accompany the revolutionaries

Sotol el siete leguas tequila type beverage named after Pancho Villa's horse

Tesgüino Tesgüino is a corn beer made by the Tarahumara Indians of Sierra Madre

in Mexico. The Tarahumara regard the beer as sacred.

Tina Modotti Italian photographer, model, actress, and revolutionary political activist.

112