Contents
Cover
Acknowledgements
Synopsis
Cast of Characters
About the Set
Prologue
ACT ONE
Scene One
Scene Two
Scene Three
Scene Four
Scene Five
Scene Six
Scene Seven
Scene Eight
Scene Nine
Scene Ten
Scene Eleven
Scene Twelve
ACT TWO
Scene One
Scene Two
Scene Three
Scene Four
Scene Five
Scene Six
Scene Seven
Scene Eight
Scene Nine
Scene Ten
Scene Eleven
Epilogue
Other Books by Carmen Aguirre
Copyright Information
I return to the South, the way one always returns to love. I return to you, with my desire, with my fear. I carry the South like the destiny of my heart. I am of the South. I dream of the South, immense moon, upside down sky. I search for the South, for the open time and its aftermath. I love the South, its good people, its dignity. I feel the South, like your body in the dark. I love you, South.
—Fernando Pino Solanas
I am grateful to life, which has given me so much: two open eyes that allow me to distinguish the darkness from the light.
—Violeta Parra
They were nothing more than people, by themselves. Even paired, any pairing, they would have been nothing more than people by themselves. But all together, they have become the heart and muscles and mind of something perilous and new, something strange and growing and great.Together, all together, they are the instruments of change.
—Keri Hulme
Come with me, along the great avenue, where a new destiny will be born. Come with me, to the heart of the Earth. Friend, bring your child, brother, bring your mother, all of us along the great avenue. The time of the wind has come, exploding the silence.
—Victor Jara
The wind whistles within me. I am naked. Master of nothing, master of no one, not even master of my own convictions, I am my face in the wind, against the wind, and I am the wind that strikes my face.
—Eduardo Galeano
Love is the answer … Yes is the answer … Yes is surrender …
—John Lennon
I dedicate The Refugee Hotel to Nelson Rodríguez, because he never forgot.
To Bob Everton, because he never gave up.
Acknowledgements
I would like to thank the Canada Council for the Arts and the British Columbia Arts Council for individual writing grants. I wrote the first draft of the play during my residency at the Vancouver Playhouse. The Playwrights’ Theatre Centre in Vancouver provided a week-long workshop of the second draft and produced a workshop production of said draft. A heartfelt thanks to the 2002 Banff Playrites Colony, where I completed the third draft. The Factory Theatre’s Cross Currents Festival (Toronto), The Arts Club Theatre’s REACT Festival (Vancouver), and The Mark Taper Forum’s New Works Festival (Los Angeles) all held public readings of different drafts of the play. I am grateful to all of them.
I would like to thank Glynis Leyshon, Elizabeth Dancoes, and Pier Carlo Talenti for dramaturgical support in the early drafts of the play. Big gratitude as well to Guillermo Verdecchia for his mentorship and support in the last fifteen years, and for his keen dramaturgical eye and feedback during rehearsals of The Refugee Hotel. I am eternally grateful to dramaturg Brian Quirt for all his work on this project.
To the dozens of actors and directors who gave their all to each reading of every draft, eternal gratitude as well.
Above all, I would like to thank Marilo Núñez for her unwavering belief in this play and for seeing it through to its world premiere.
The Refugee Hotel was produced by Alameda Theatre Company in association with Theatre Passe Muraille. It premiered at Theatre Passe Muraille on September 16, 2009, with the following cast and crew:
MANUEL: Salvatore Antonio
MALE CUECA DANCER: Felix Basáez
SOCIAL WORKER: Leanna Brodie
RECEPTIONIST: Terrence Bryant
CRISTINA: Cheri Maracle
ISABEL: Paloma Núñez
FLACA: Beatriz Pizano
MANUELITA: Paula Rivera / Michelle Polak
JUAN: Michael Scholar Jr.
JOSELITO: Osvaldo Sepulveda
BILL O’NEILL: Todd Thomson
FAT JORGE: Juan Carlos Velis
Producer: Marilo Núñez
Director: Carmen Aguirre
Dramaturg: Brian Quirt
Set Designer: Trevor Schwellnus
Lighting Designer: Itai Erdal
Costume Designer: Andjelija Djuric
Sound Designer: Nano Valverde
Production Manager: Doug Morum
Stage Manager: Andrea Schurman
Assistant Stage Manager: Wendy Lee
Assistant Director: Alex Castillo
Assistant Producer: Sigrid Velis
Head of Wardrobe: Barbara Rowe
Synopsis
A dark comedy about a group of Chilean refugees who arrived in Vancouver in 1974 and were put up in a modest hotel. An uncompromising look at exile, torture, guilt, and betrayal, The Refugee Hotel is ultimately about love and its power to heal.
Cast of Characters
MANUELITA, thirties in the present, eight in the past.
JOSELITO, ten.
FAT JORGE (father of Manuelita and Joselito), thirties.
FLACA (mother of Manuelita and Joselito), thirties.
ISABEL (Calladita), early twenties.
CRISTINA (Cakehead), eighteen.
MANUEL (Condor Passes), seventeen.
JUAN (of the Chickens), early twenties.
BILL O’NEILL, mid-twenties.
RECEPTIONIST (Jackie), sixties.
SOCIAL WORKER (Pat Kelemen), thirties.
MALE CUECA DANCER.
About the Set
A multi-level set is ideal. When a scene is happening in the lobby or in one of the rooms, the other hotel occupants remain in their rooms, seen by the audience.
The play takes place in Vancouver, over a one-week period in February 1974, five months after the coup in Chile.
Prologue
The stage is dark. We hear the sound of a radio dial being turned. Static, until the radio catches the final phrases of Salvador Allende’s last speech, broadcast directly from La Moneda Palace on the morning of the coup. We see the silhouette of ADULT MANUELITA standing centrestage, holding a suitcase. She translates Allende’s broadcast.
ADULT MANUELITA:
I know we are living a bitter moment in Chile’s history, but I have faith that much sooner than later the great avenues of this country will open once again, where the free man will build a new society. Long live Chile, long live the people, long live the working class. These are my final words …
The broadcast continues, full of static. The sound of bombs being dropped on La Moneda Palace, full blast. Absolute silence and darkness. ADULT MANUELITA remains centre-stage, suitcase in hand. In the dark, we begin to hear the zapateo of a lone MALECUECA DANCER. Lights come up to reveal the dancer, dressed in full huaso gear.
ADULT MANUELITA:
(walking around the set, contemplating the hotel in half-light) If these walls could speak, they’d tell you a story about the past that informs the present and illuminates the future. It was one week in the month of February. It poured with rain the whole time. It was 1974 and the décor was … (Lights start to come up. The MALE CUECA DANCER continues to dance.)
Red shag carpets, plastic orange light shades, macramé, a bean bag in the corner and—ah, yes—the lava lamp.
FAT JORGE, FLACA, JOSELITO , the RECEPTIONIST, and the SOCIAL WORKER enter. They all freeze in the following tableau: FAT JORGE, FLACA, and JOSELITO carry suitcases; the SOCIAL WORKER leads them, briefcase in hand; the RECEPTIONIST sits behind his desk, on the phone.
ADULT MANUELITA:
It takes courage to remember, it takes courage to forget, it takes a hero to do both.
ADULT MANUELITA joins her family. We are taken back thirty years. ADULT MANUELITA is now CHILD MANUELITA.
The CUECA DANCER does a full-on zapateo and exits.
ACT ONE
Scene One
SOCIAL WORKER:
Ici we are.
RECEPTIONIST:
(into the phone) You’re not listening—
SOCIAL WORKER:
Excuse me.
RECEPTIONIST:
(into the phone) No. Put the phone to your RIGHT ear.
SOCIAL WORKER:
I’m Pat Kelemen.
RECEPTIONIST:
(into the phone) Mum?
SOCIAL WORKER:
The social worker assigned to the Chilean refugees.
RECEPTIONIST:
(into the phone) Your right EAR. (to SOCIAL WORKER) Hotel’s booked. (into the phone) WHAT’S wrong with your clock?
SOCIAL WORKER:
I know—
RECEPTIONIST:
(to SOCIAL WORKER) Solid. (into the phone) Your kidneys are fine, Mum. (louder) I said they’re fine!
SOCIAL WORKER:
This is the González family.
RECEPTIONIST:
(into the phone) Listen—
SOCIAL WORKER:
The refugees.
RECEPTIONIST:
(into the phone) I thought I could take the ferry over for high tea at The Empress—
SOCIAL WORKER:
(to the family) I’m so sorry about this. (to the RECEPTIONIST) Do you speak Spanish?
RECEPTIONIST:
(into the phone) I thought you LIKED The Empress.
SOCIAL WORKER:
(to the family) Ayayayayay.
RECEPTIONIST:
(into the phone) Look, Mum? I’m going to have to call you back. (hanging up the phone) WHAT is the problem?!
SOCIAL WORKER:
I don’t know what to do. They don’t speak a word of English and all I know is French. (to the family, speaking very slowly and loudly) This is it!
RECEPTIONIST:
(adjusting his spectacles) THESE are the refugees?
SOCIAL WORKER:
Of course they are.
(to the family) Ici! Uh … le hotel! Tu stay ici until moi can place tu in a casa! Comprendez?
FLACA:
Say something, Fat Jorge. Can’t you see the woman’s talking to us?
FAT JORGE:
Of course I can see that, Flaca! What makes you think I’d understand her?
FLACA:
(to SOCIAL WORKER) This is a very nice hotel, so modern.
JOSELITO:
Look, Mom, they have a TV!
FLACA:
Just be quiet now, Joselito. Can’t you see your mother’s trying to communicate? (to SOCIAL WORKER, very loudly) I was saying that this is a nice hotel, but we don’t have any money to pay for it!
SOCIAL WORKER:
(to RECEPTIONIST) Do you understand what she’s saying?
RECEPTIONIST:
(handing her the key, grabbing his newspaper) Uh-uh. The man needs a good hit of scotch.
FLACA:
The gringo doesn’t like us. He’s catching on that we have no money. Fat Jorge, tell the woman we can’t pay for the hotel, before the old gringo calls the cops on us—
FAT JORGE:
Nobody’s calling the cops on us, Flaca.
MANUELITA:
I’m tired.
FLACA:
Just be quiet, Manuelita. Your father and I are trying to figure something out.
SOCIAL WORKER:
Well, pourquoi we not go arriba to your room, now, comprendez?
FLACA:
Excuse me, we can’t pay for the hotel. We don’t have money. But as soon as we find work, we’ll pay the bill. I can assure you of that. Maybe we can sign a paper saying that we will pay you for sure. Fat Jorge! Help me out here!
FAT JORGE:
(to SOCIAL WORKER) I am a hard-working man and I will pay for the hotel as soon as I get a job! I promise!
FLACA:
Let’s give her the ten dollars we have. So she understands.
FAT JORGE:
(handing SOCIAL WORKER the money) Here. That’s all we have for now. Tomorrow, first thing, I will find a job and pay for the rest.
SOCIAL WORKER:
What are you doing? No! No! Keep your—uh—dinero! Le hotel is paid for! Let’s go up to your room now! You need to rest! Siesta!—You’ve had a long flight! I’m sure you’re tired. Let’s go. Vamos. Arriba.
JOSELITO:
I’m hungry!
MANUELITA:
I have to go pee!
JOSELITO:
And thirsty.
The SOCIAL WORKER starts walking up the stairs.
SOCIAL WORKER:
Come on! Let’s go! Moi, tu, everybody, arriba.
FLACA:
Okay kids, let’s go.
The family follows her up the stairs, carrying their suitcases.
JOSELITO:
This hotel looks just like the TV shows.
FAT JORGE:
How are we going to pay for this? One night here must cost a month’s wages.
FLACA:
Don’t worry the kids. They have enough on their minds already.
They arrive at the room.
SOCIAL WORKER:
Okay. Perfecto. A grande bed and dos chicos. Ici is where tu will sleep, uh, siesta. Zzzzz. You have a kitchenette, comida, and there’s a mercado just up the calle for tu to do your groceries. (handing FLACA some cash) Ici tu go. This should be enough dinero for the next few dias. (handing FLACA her card) Ici is my card. If you have any pourquois, por favor call moi. Mi nombre es Pat. Pat Kelemen. Moi ici to provide any support tu may need. Comprendez?
The SOCIAL WORKER leaves. The family all lie down on the double bed and fall asleep, on top of each other, with their coats still on.
The SOCIAL WORKER walks down the stairs.
SOCIAL WORKER:
(to RECEPTIONIST) I think they’re in trauma.
RECEPTIONIST:
(not looking up from his newspaper) Did you see her earrings? Solid lapis lazuli hanging down to her shoulders.
Scene Two
Later that night. Everyone has fallen asleep. All the family is sleeping on the double bed, on top of each other. The CUECA DANCER dances in the background. The sound of pan pipes is heard. There is a lone light on the bed.
FAT JORGE is having a flashback/nightmare. There is the sound of weeping, pleading, sniffling. A baby cries. FAT JORGE screams.
FLACA:
(shaking FAT JORGE) Fat Jorge! Fat Jorge! Wake up! Wake up!
FAT JORGE jerks up. He stares around the room.
MANUELITA:
The bathroom’s over there!
JOSELITO:
Don’t throw up on the Canadian bed, Dad!
FAT JORGE runs to the bathroom and pukes. He comes back.
FLACA:
Come over here, my little big bear. It’s okay. Everything’s going to be okay.
FAT JORGE:
Ow. Don’t squeeze my gut. I’m just gonna go downstairs and pace a little bit—
FLACA:
Kids, we’re staying here.
FAT JORGE:
—get my heart to slow down.
Scene Three
FAT JORGE goes down to the lobby. Gentlemen Prefer Blondes is on TV. The RECEPTIONIST mouths along to “Diamonds Are a Girl’s Best Friend.”
RECEPTIONIST:
(see
ing FAT JORGE) Oh!
FAT JORGE stares at the RECEPTIONIST.
RECEPTIONIST:
Friday night classics. Channel twelve.
FAT JORGE:
(nodding) Jes jes.
They stare at each other for an awkward moment. The RECEPTIONIST goes back to watching TV.
FAT JORGE looks out the window. The sound of pouring rain. He pulls out a small bottle of rum, the kind you get at airport duty-free shops. He takes a swig.
FLACA has made sure the children are asleep and she comes down the stairs. She approaches FAT JORGE.
FLACA:
How you doing?
FAT JORGE:
(quickly hiding mickey) It rains hard here.
FLACA:
Yeah.
Long pause as they both contemplate the rain out the window.
FLACA:
You’ve lost a lot of weight, Fat Jorge.
FAT JORGE:
Well, the meals weren’t great.
FLACA:
My little big bear.
FAT JORGE:
My Mona Lisa.
Pause.
FLACA:
It was so surreal being on that plane after not seeing you and the kids for so long and not really being able to talk.
FAT JORGE:
We talked.
FLACA:
I mean about the real stuff.
FAT JORGE:
Yeah. My ears were plugged half the time anyway, so I wouldn’t have been able to hear you. There. I made you laugh. At least I still make you laugh. Remember our first date? September 21, 1962. The first day of spring. I took you dancing and did the twist and put my back out and you peed yourself laughing.
FLACA:
That’s when I knew you were the one.
FAT JORGE:
But really. Nobody ever told me that your ears plug on planes.
FLACA:
Or that you fly right through the clouds.
Pause.
FAT JORGE:
It rains really, really hard here.
FLACA:
I’m sorry.
FAT JORGE:
What are you sorry about?
FLACA:
About what happened.
FAT JORGE:
What happened?
FLACA:
Fat Jorge, don’t crack jokes.
FAT JORGE:
I’m being serious. What happened?
The Refugee Hotel Page 1
