With the demands of our work in this project and of the play itself, we constantly find ourselves exploring, digging, interrogating, and confronting the artistic material, its argument, and the shape it will take.
We find ourselves in the critical moment of adapting the play for an important festival: Fringe, which represents an enormous feat given its demands and our own expectations. The context and the space we will work in are very different from those in which we have been experimenting thus far. Nevertheless, we have one great advantage: for this presentation, we have a little more time to realize the adaptation and make the most of our resources. Another newfound strength that begs mentioning is the participation of the members of the dance troupe New Orleans Hispano America, with whom we were fortunate enough to work in 2011. With their obligations of school and work, these compañeros and compañeras have generously set aside the time that this commitment requires, expecting in return nothing more than solidarity, curiosity, and perhaps, a need to create theatre. We appreciate this enormously.
As a means of nurturing our theatrical proposal, we create written explorations of our thoughts and feelings surrounding the moment in which we find ourselves in order to give context to ‘Irse’s’ next adaptation. The text that I share below are the words of Jordi Möllering, the director of our theatrical orchestra. With this text, we continue the work of finding our inspiration and strengthening the material, the arguments.
Below, you can see a brief summary on film of our journey through Mexico and our arrival to No Man’s Land (and Everyone’s Land): the border.
Boxes, frameworks, labels
We human beings are born out of a illness that keeps us from
seeing the essence of other people.
We choose to give more importance to something external that identifies us
Things like race, nationality, or language.
I am always having to talk about windmills, tulips, wooden clogs and marijuana
But perhaps I have more important topics to talk about
Multiple identities and singular nationalities
The differences upon crossing a border are often striking
The money, the streets, the written signs all change
The way of talking changes
But at other times in border regions the change feels more gradual
The dialect in Chiapas is more like that of Guatemala than that of Northern Mexico
Even though the people of Chiapas look like Guatemalans
They can travel freely up to the border with the U.S.
Some of them live in a strange world
They’re not from here or there
The don’t identify with any national anthem or any flag
They ask which is their home
If there is a place for them
No nationalistic discourse can satisfy them
So then, Should it satisfy anybody?
What we eat, what we wear
Could be from any part of the world
From places we’ve never been and will never go to
Places that nevertheless we carry with us
These products and the money cross borders with no problem, while we wait in line
Some face agony in the desert
While a shipment of Chinese T-shirts merits a more comfortable journey
In an instant, I see images of Guatemala in a conversation by Skype
And I can talk to the people
In the street.
Turning it Around
Those of us who attempt work to defend the rights of marginalized groups
As activists, artists, or simply as people
So easily we brand another person
Nazi, imperialist, capitalist, redneck
Deny them their humanity as well
Doing exactly the same, but from another perspective
It seems we can’t live without separating, labeling
I ask myself if our ideas would become reality and fulfilled in entirety
Would they turn into dogmas?
How can we fight for a diverse world, a harmonious world, if we think we are right?
The ritual as a pure practice for connecting us
The ritual for release from our pains
The ritual makes us communicate with those who are no longer near us
The ritual allows us for a moment to be together, concentrating, with respect
Without borders, without the constructions that would identify us as people
With a candle in the hand
Together we make the pilgrimage
Together we cry
And we feel the sufferings that are universal
Together we pray for the good of all
Hopefully no one interrupts us on our way
Experiences from the Migrant Trail
To be made to feel
Although perhaps we haven’t felt in our own flesh
The battle with the elements
Blessed and cursed at once
The unnecessary distance
The lament of the mothers
From the depths of their beings
With sparks of the hope
Of seeing their children again
All of us are potential traitors
To our ideals, our beliefs
Our country, traitors to ourselves
We are all that person who betrayed a Jew in Second World War
We are all that person who stayed silent out of fear
We are all that person paralyzed
In the face of an injustice
At times we feel powerless
Before the vastness that is the world
And the vastness of the things we don’t like
That we wouldn’t like to occur
What more can we do than take care of ourselves
I take care of myself
Do I risk myself for someone else?
I conform to a certain point
At times even reaching apathy