They lose, we win

Something pretty neat happened yesterday in La Seca, a miserable village in the middle of the Castillan desert (a/k/a nowhere), a thirsty and sweaty two-hour drive from Madrid.

Two months ago, my boyfriend, his army of Very Serious Persons and me went to see a low-budget production of ‘Bodas de Sangre’, a play written by national playwright Frederico Garcia Lorca. The cast was all Cuban, so was the director, and producers, therefore the company obviously got around the way they could, inventing different (and cheap) ways to render works written by a hispanophonic writer Very Serious Persons love to petrify, to set on stone.

After the play, the VSPs army went all down on Julian, one of the actors in the company. Juan, his boyfriend, began the gangbang: “Julian, ¡es horrible!” Then down came the other two with their blades craving for creative-busting bloodshed. I was asked what I thought of the work. I happened to have enjoyed the show, and told them the truth. But certainly, according to them I was the Brazilian illiterate who didn’t know anything about Lorca’s genious and the definitive way it should be rendered. Experimentation and creativity is the original sin for VSPs.

They went on, smoking like their lungs are toys from the Chinese junk shop, drinking a barrel of beer, and trying to destroy Julian’s company, about twenty minutes after the performance we all won the tickets to watch as a generous gift.

Yesterday, in a awards ceremony for amateur theatre groups, Julian’s group won several awards, including best production, and Julian himself got a best actor in supporting role award. Jose’s group got only one award—for best actress.

The Very Serious People lost.

About twenty minutes ago, Jose and I were talking about how my sister likes to feel like a diva dancing in parties. He says everybody wants to feel like a diva, and I told him I have been one. He asked when, and I told him about Sampa, and my regular storytelling and singing to 150-200 people. He told me people never really paid attention to me, they were bored and looking in other directions. Mind you, Jose has never ever watched my performance on stage, and already had such a destructive idea on it.

Very Serious People have addictive, irrational behaviours, and never learn.

I just decided I’d post this entry. Jose won’t mind, because he knows nobody reads me, or looks at me, or even knows who I am.