SOULFIRE by Lisa Kirazian Soul Fire A play presenting the stories of San Diego immigrants based on their interviews with other artists: "Azar Mahmoud" (alias) interviewed by SueAnne Mead "Jacob Feldman" (alias) interviewed by Brandon Alter "Maida Rezai" (alias) interviewed by Deanna Driscoll Diem Tran interviewed by Ruth McKee Elnord Joseph interviewed by Ruth McKee Alex Chuang interviewed by Brandon Alter Nghiep Le interviewed by Veronica Murphy Jeandark Putris interviewed by Kerry Meads Nathan Dinnerman interviewed by Brandon Alter Daniel Yamune interviewed by DeAnna Driscoll Cast: 3 Women, 4 Men CHORUS: Both women and men Male Characters Female Characters SAGE MAN AZAR ELNORD JOSEPH MAIDA JACOB MAIDA’S MOTHER MAIDA’S FATHER MEGAPHONE WOMEN MAIDA’S BROTHER ELNORD’S DAUGHTER DIEM TRAN MRS. ANCESTOR PASTOR FEMME FATHER OF ELNORD THE MISSUS YOUTH JEANDARK FATHER OF NGHIEP FAITH NGIHIEP WOMAN DANIEL MS. GIBBS SOUL FIRE was commissioned by the Playwrights Project with a grant from the California Council for the Humanities, as part of “Stories of Faith,” the Council’s statewide performance and lecture series about interfaith understanding. It was produced by Playwrights Project at the Weingart Library Performing Arts Annex in San Diego, California, in October, 2004. Soul Fire [Lights open dimly on a Holy Place, in the timeless present. Ten small unlit votive candles sit on a downstage corner. Downstage are two small tables, for kneeling and reading, and two prayer rugs. On one table, old sacred books lie open, tattered. In an upstage corner there is an open travel trunk, dotted with inspection stickers from various countries - from the Middle East, Africa, Asia, even North America. In the trunk are colorful fabrics and clothing. Lights on the SAGE MAN in the downstage corner opposite the candles. He moves fluidly around the stage. He is dressed in humble clothes, but still self-respecting, like a proud homeless person. He plays his one possession - a duduk flute. A soulful melody. He stops and turns to the audience.] SAGE MAN Music is my prayer. The kind of prayer that carries me when nothing else does. It's all I have. Like my breath, there's an exchange. Counterpoint. A dialogue. I know I am heard. [He looks out.] SAGE MAN I said I know I am heard! The heavens hear me! [He plays almost upward toward the sky, then stops, as if hearing a response.] SAGE MAN I play a duduk, an Armenian duduk, because from it comes the universal melodies of the wandering soul, grounded in its past, groping in the present, hoping for eternity. [Duduk music is heard, distant.] SAGE MAN My melody smolders like incense, rising, swirling in spirit to the great heavens. Its aroma is sweetest, its curl of smoke tallest, when it burns deepest. That eternal part of our souls ascending, entreating. Burning. Becoming! [He runs to an edge.] SAGE MAN As the old prophets asked, so I ask you: Have you not known? Have you not heard? [He goes to another edge.] SAGE MAN It seems no one listens. Sometimes I am not sure where I belong. On good days, I'm a citizen of the world! On others, I'm the nowhere man. But for now, I am here, in this city, living the best I can. All of us are trying. We have all come from halfway around the world, we are all transplants, having groped through the valley, the desert, the jungle, looking for a place to call home - or at least a secondary home. Home. Maybe nowhere is home. Perhaps, home is only where God puts us, or where the winds blow us. Or where our family is - or, where our memories are. If nothing else, I am standing right here, feet on earth, right now, alive and breathing and safe. Right now, this is where I am. This is home. [He points to the trunk upstage.] SAGE MAN And all I have is in there. [He reaches a downstage edge.] SAGE MAN Now, you don't know me. But I'm everywhere. You know the sacred words. I'm the one you offer the cold cup of water to - you know, the least of the brethren? The ones the world forgets? Ah, but God never forgets us. And no one can keep us pilgrims down. [He jumps to a new spot, victoriously.] SAGE MAN Through our exodus, our wilderness, and eventually, our refuge, you will see us, in all our hurt and hope. The prayers of a dozen pilgrims, roaming across this earth, holding onto that which can never be taken away. This is their journey of faith. These, these, are their prayers. [He turns to the others onstage, joining three other MEN and three WOMEN - seven total, all dressed in black - who slowly stride across the stage in different directions, moving to the music. They hold one long, silky red sash, which they wave as they dance. They softly murmur the NAMES OF THE STORYTELLERS, staggered and overlapping, as if whispering individual prayers, as the SAGE MAN plays. The entire group will serve as a CHORUS throughout the play.] VOICES Azar Mahmoud....Jacob Feldman....Maida Rezai.... Elnord Joseph....Alex Chuang....Nghiep Le....Diem Tran.....Jeandark Putris....Nathan Dinnerman....Daniel Yamune....Azar Mahmoud....Jacob Feldman....Maida Rezai....Elnord Joseph....Alex Chuang....Nghiep Le....Diem Tran....Jeandark Putris....Nathan Dinnerman....Daniel Yamune... [Their voices trail off as they line up, upstage. They leave the long red sash on the ground. One woman steps forward from the line - soon to become the middle aged Somali, AZAR MAHMOUD.] AZAR The prophet Mohammed, May peace be upon him, taught to me - what I learn from the prophet Mohammed - May peace be upon him - Be patient. Be P-a-t-i-e-n-t. He was peace. The word Islam is peace. The word itself is peace. [She steps back as another man steps forward - to become an older Jewish man, JACOB FELDMAN.] JACOB It's cold tonight, God. Colder since the only warmth I have softly hid behind the horizon a heart-beat ago. But thank you--for the coat, and the hat, and the still air. For controlling the winds, thank you. Does it ever get cold up there, God? [As he steps back, another man steps forward - to become ELNORD JOSEPH, a bold young Haitian man.] ELNORD My life is an open book. I have a lot of stories. So many stories, I can't even begin to tell you. But I will try, with the Lord's help. I have no secrets. [He steps back. A young girl steps forward, to become MAIDA REZAI, a frightened Afghani teenager.] MAIDA We do not have anymore. We have nothing left. We have nothing left, in Afghanistan. Can we have my brothers back? [AZAR turns to MAIDA with pity. Their eyes meet in a moment of empathy. MAIDA steps back.] SAGE MAN [to the audience] The path alights. The road will curve ahead. The journey begins. [Lights go down on all characters except one woman who moves downstage. SAGE MAN takes a large African print cloth from the trunk, and drapes it over her. He dresses her ceremoniously, carefully. She is now the middle-aged Muslim Somali woman, AZAR MAHMOUD, her body and head completely covered in the cloth. The others in the background sit on the floor, on stools, or stand. AZAR lights the first candle and SAGE MAN escorts her to the edge of the stage.] AZAR Are you sure - it is safe for talk? [SAGE MAN nods emphatically.] SAGE MAN Listen, now, to Azar Mahmoud. AZAR I am of my people. From Somalia. My people. I came to the United States in 1996 from Kenya, a refugee camp in Kenya with my husband and children. You cannot understand it is too terrible. My daughter was 6 months old but she died in that camp. There, in my arms. In East Africa. [She holds an imaginary baby in her arms, bereft. She kisses it and offers it to the heavens.] AZAR My mother-in-law sponsored us. She came here in 1991. I sponsored my mother. Now she is here. You see? No-it is too terrible you cannot understand the civil war. The government was overthrown in Somalia. Tribe against tribe. You cannot believe the killing, the raping, the blood. SAGE MAN They got in a car and drove to Kenya. They were caught, beaten, and sent back to Mogadishu. [The others in the background run around AZAR, waving the red sash around her.] AZAR All the people...all the people were running, getting away on foot, by car...the car breaks down, every day, only a few miles...all the way to Kenya. My husband and I were running. They caught us and sent us back. Not to a prison. To someone from the other tribe. In his house and he's watching us with his rifle every day-what we do in the house. Every move. We can't go out. But he's a friend from the other tribe. And sometimes someone comes and says," Hey! They are the other tribe! Out with them! Kill them! Kill them! They are the other tribe!" But our friend says, "No! Go away! I'm watching them!" My husband escaped. On foot, by car, the car breaks down, a few miles, every day a few miles...all the way to Kenya. Later, I escaped by plane. Someone helped me. [She walks to the opposite end of the stage, watching the others.] AZAR How did this happen? Like me and you. I am this tribe, you are that tribe. You see me. I see you. What is tribe? Nothing. What are we? Enemies? Same people. Same language. Same same same. Somalis. We are all Somalis. My younger daughter was 10 days old. I was escaping with her. Now she say, "I'm American! I don't want it Ma! I don't want Somalia! All it is is killing! Killing!" My five year old he say, "I was born in Alvarado Hospital! I'm a San Diegan, Ma! I'm not a Somali!" All they hear is somebody die. Somebody killing each other. What can I tell my kids? The place where I was born, the place where I started school... I miss it. When it's your home, you miss it. [The CHORUS chants.] CHORUS I miss home.... AZAR My kids say, "Ma! How can you miss it, Ma?! You saw Black Hawk Down! Those people will kill you if you go back! They'll kill you, Ma! There's nothing there! You're in the Land of Opportunity! Why do you want to go back, Ma?" [She smiles and sighs.] AZAR There was a man and he hate Mohammed--May Peace Be Upon Him. And a man put trash and garbage, scraps-anything dirty at the door of Mohammed's house every day. But one day, no trash. Mohammed went to the man's house. What's wrong? Mohammed asked. Why you ask? a man said. You don't bring the garbage. I worry. [A beat.] AZAR Right now, I live upstairs. I am always telling my children, Walk quiet! Shhhh! The neighbors! You have to respect in the maximum way your neighbors. What I learn from Mohammed: Be patient. He was peace. Before I come here, I know other faiths, but I never see. God sent four books-the Torah, the Bible, the new Bible, the Koran-Moses- May Peace Be Upon Him-David, May Peace Be Upon Him-Jesus, May Peace Be Upon Him; Mohammed, May Peace Be Upon Him-I cannot love Mohammed if I do not love all God's prophets. SAGE MAN All God's prophets? AZAR All. [AZAR stops circling and kneels and bows deeply. The others drop the sash. SAGE MAN helps her stand up. AZAR retreats upstage, where SAGE MAN derobes her of the African print cloth and returns it to the trunk. She joins the others in the upstage line. Nearby, Sage takes a long dark coat from the trunk and puts it on the man who becomes the older Jew, JACOB FELDMAN. SAGE MAN takes out a hat and places it on the man's head, again solemnly. JACOB clasps his hands at his chest, then picks up the book on the table near him. He looks at it unsatisfyingly and lets it drop back onto the table. He looks at the candles but shakes his head and turns away from them. He does not light one.] JACOB [to SAGE MAN] He won't want to hear what I have to say. SAGE MAN Of course he will. And they do. They want to hear. [Lights dim except for the moonlight effect surrounding JACOB. SAGE MAN turns to audience before disappearing.] SAGE MAN Here, Jacob Feldman: a questioner.... [Softly JACOB murmurs the Kaddish in Hebrew, the words barely discernible.] JACOB Does it ever get cold up there, God? Do you ever bundle up before you go outside and play in the snow? Do you play in the snow? Do you play at all? Or are you too busy? What with changing the colors of the sky, and keeping the moon afloat. But you must have some free time. I’m sure ignoring my prayers clears up a little window in your schedule. Have you ever lost something God? Something you really loved. Have you ever taken someone from yourself? Before you were ready to let them go? SAGE MAN What do you think? JACOB [half ignoring SAGE MAN] Did you try and console yourself by saying that you had a greater plan in mind? Have you ever questioned the reality of a greater purpose? Or do you just take these things for granted? And after you realized that what you lost wasn’t coming back, did you stand and chatter mindlessly into the void? JACOB Shooting vapid questions into the night with the hopes that maybe you would hear yourself. With the hopes that you exist. Have you ever questioned your own existence God? I have. [Echo in the background.] CHORUS I have.... SAGE MAN I have. [He picks up the red sash ribbon and yanks it forward, while the anonymous others in the background yank it back, and forth.] JACOB Do you know (of course you know) that I prayed to you every night until I was 12 years old? I would lie in bed, clasp my hands to my heart, and chant the Sh’ma. Unload every detail that weighed on my chest until I could breathe again. I used to thank you for every victory and ask your help before each hurdle. What happened? Where did you go? I’m right here where I’ve always been. You, however, are not where I used to find you. And what? Leaving me wasn’t enough? You now have to take people from me, people who I need, need as much as I needed you? Where are you?! Every night I prayed. I prayed religiously and I don’t know what that means. I’m not asking for special treatment, I just thought you should know, or let me remind you in case you’d forgotten. Some mornings I don’t even have faith enough To open the blinds And see the sun. Half expecting you to have taken it away. And some days—Oh God, some days my eyes are so full of wonder that I can do nothing but release them with tears. [He lets go of the sash.] JACOB And while I can’t always believe in you, I can believe in me. [He walks downstage, peering at the audience.] JACOB And if I can’t believe in either of those things…then I can believe in the moon. Because even if I wake one morning to find you’ve raped mankind of its star, the moon, even a sliver of its being will be there to prove we’re not alone. I am one with you, God, and with the moon. Amen. [He looks around at the group. His eyes and MAIDA's meet. JACOB reverts to an upstage shadow, never lighting a candle. SAGE MAN takes off his coat and hat and places them back in the trunk. SAGE MAN summons MAIDA REZAI to come forward. She is afraid. He takes a brightly colored, but tattered long fabric from the trunk and envelops her in it. He smears her reluctant face with dirt, she resists then complies. She is an Afghani Muslim teenager. MAIDA's body language says “stay away.” She lights the second candle quickly, desperately. She murmurs incessantly, breathlessly. MAIDA goes to a prayer rug and prays. SAGE MAN tries to comfort her but she pushes him away.] SAGE MAN This...is Maida Rezai. [She is still frightened and disheveled, breathless and desperate.] MAIDA Didn't anyone hear me? [She sits up from the prayer position.] MAIDA We do not have any more. We have nothing left in Afghanistan. We have nothing left. Can we have my brothers back? [She turns to SAGE MAN and he is reluctant to answer. Lights brighten as MAIDA moves to one of the tables.] SAGE MAN Mazarshrif was Maida’s home.... MAIDA I loved my school, my friends. I was learning so many things and my family was happy. Mazarshrif was pleasant, a good place for our family until they… [Her voice trails off.] MAIDA Pashtoo speakers were killing the Farsi speakers. At the time that is all I could understand. That is all my father would tell me. I didn't attend school after that. [MAIDA's FATHER and BROTHER enter in a burst of conversation.] BROTHER Father, we can’t just do nothing. I don’t understand. Why kill us for speaking Farsi? It is absurd. FATHER It may be absurd but we can not go out into the street to die. That also is absurd. I cannot say more. They hate us. They want to control us. That is all man ever does to man. MAIDA We went to bed a somewhat peaceful family and we were awoken by the most horrific sounds. [Sounds of BOMBS and FIRED SHOTS. The red sash flails in the background.] MAIDA They were attacking Mazarshrif. From the moment it started it didn’t stop for 15 days. We were a city of Farsi women and children and Pashtu men. [long pause] No sleep, no life. Killing. Not just destruction and torture. Women and children were dying. All the men were being taken away. [There is a loud knock at the "door" and a harsh man's voice, played by SAGE MAN.] SAGE MAN Come out, now! We demand that any males in the house come out right now! [MAIDA speaks to the audience in a hushed tone with just a pool of light on her.] MAIDA We hid the boys. My brothers and the neighbor boy. That little neighbor boy never made it. He was killed, my brother survived. My one brother survived, but not…my… [pause] Now the third day of the capture of our city. It was the worst day of my life. [Lights fade to black and we hear loud knocking "at the door".] SAGE MAN You men in there! Come out of the house now! This is an order! [The lights come up on MAIDA, her MOTHER and her FATHER, fear in their eyes. The women weep as the Father holds the red sash, almost tied up in it, and is being pulled away. He pulls back on the red sash, toward his family, in the fight of his life to keep his ground. The anonymous others in the background, as if soldiers, pull the sash harder. The father gets "pulled" into the darkness as the women pray. The sash floats to the ground.] MAIDA Three days we prayed for our father’s return. Three days. [A sympathetic voice, by SAGE MAN.] SAGE MAN There is a body at the mosque. It may belong to you. MOTHER It’s him. It’s him. [pause] My children. I must be with my children. [MAIDA, her Mother and Brother come together on-stage. They take the red sash and stay connected to each other, holding on desperately to their Mother, almost wrapping themselves in it. Then Brother breaks away and straightens out, the new man of the house.] BROTHER We know families in the next town. We have some money. We must take our chances and go. All the neighbors are moving. MAIDA We packed what we could carry and hired a truck to take us to the next town, but when we arrived we feared putting our friends in danger for being Farsi speakers and being seen speaking to us, so we went on. All the roads were bombed and the Taliban would stop you every 15 minutes to torture you. They would separate all men and women and question us for about an hour. They would torture the men and decide whether to keep them or not. Our prayers of our brothers’ return were always answered. [The family sits, cold and tired, huddled together, praying, clinging to the sash.] MAIDA We had no food and the only water we had was what we would come across. It was winter time. We were not prepared. [Native music leads a methodical bang and the audible sounds of people doing some sort of hard labor work. The lights rise on the whole family sitting and making rugs. They look exhausted. The red sash almost binds them.] MAIDA At last we reached Pakistan. But then all of us were put into hard labor, to - 'survive.' [MAIDA speaks to her mother and the others, although there will be no reaction from them. They continue working as if they do not hear.] MAIDA Five years since we have sat in this room in this same disgusting heat, in the same aching positions, thinking the same mundane thoughts. This work house. I can’t do it anymore! We have got to get out of here. When can we be free? [The others echo.] CHORUS When can we be free? MAIDA Let’s just go, mother. We made it here to Pakistan and even though they took the last few things we had left, we made it! And we can continue on. Let's go somewhere else. [MAIDA paces, panicked.] MAIDA They only give us enough money to eat rice or potatoes and they expect us to live, work, eat, sleep, breathe and stay sane in this one little room! It's not right! It can’t be done. How is it right that none of us have been to school? That we must work instead or we will not survive? How is this justified? We have weak eyes and white hair from working 18 hours a day, 6 days a week. MOTHER You must keep quiet. We will take care of you. You must clean yourself quickly and continue working. Please just keep working. [She sits, weak on the floor and looks straight at the audience.] MAIDA This time in our life was strange. We were safe from the Taliban, but making these carpets was killing us. 18 hours a day, 6 days a week. We have Friday afternoon until Saturday morning as our "day off." This time is the only chance we have to clean ourselves and our clothes. We are forced to stay inside. Women do not go outside and when we do we must go with a male family member. One time a month or so I get to go outside. [pause] If we could only go somewhere else, anywhere else. BROTHER And where do you propose we go? Europe? America? Stop daydreaming and finish your carpet. These have got to be done by tonight or we will not have food for the week. [MAIDA silently rises and goes back to her 'carpet'. SAGE MAN takes a letter from the trunk and unfolds it, reading in an 'official' voice.] SAGE MAN "To the Rezai Family...you have been approved for visas to the United States of America, two months from the date of this letter.....please report to our offices at the following address...." [The family stops making carpets.] BROTHER Did you hear? MAIDA Could it be? This miracle? Allah be praised! We were free. To worship in a mosque, to speak our language, to live together, in America, where we pray this will never happen to us again. [MAIDA's family retreats to the background, praising the heavens, waving the red sash in victory. She retreats upstage where SAGE MAN removes her colorful fabric and places it back in the trunk. One man steps forward. SAGE MAN gives him a jacket and tie, helping him dress. He is DIEM TRAN, a Vietnamese man, a tidy and young-looking 50. He lights the third candle.] SAGE MAN Long ago, a zen monk said: "Before enlightenment, I chopped wood and carried water. After enlightenment, I chopped wood and carried water." [SAGE MAN gestures toward DIEM.] SAGE MAN Diem Tran. DIEM I know who I am and I know where I am. I am Diem Tran, in San Diego, California. I am just a man. Here for ten, eleven years. When I left Vietnam, I had to pass an interview. I went to the consulate in Saigon, and answered all their questions. About the war, about prison, about my opinions on the United States. I passed their physical, got my immunizations, got my niece here in San Diego to sign an Affidavit of Relationship, and they let me come. They let my whole family come. SAGE MAN So you are an American, now. DIEM Yes. A Vietnamese-American, but an American, yes. I have always believed in America. DIEM They didn’t abandon us in the war, like some people think. It was not their fault. We were always waiting for them to go. But the airports were all bombed. The North thought I was dangerous because I worked with the Americans. SAGE MAN Intelligence, not combat. DIEM I was in the city. Dressed in civilian clothes. I went everywhere, collecting. And I was arrested, so. There was no way out for me. I had to go to prison. A re-education camp is what the communists called it. But I was never reeducated. No! I fought against communists taking over my country. In the camp, they just wanted us for our labor. SAGE MAN To make products, to make money for the regime. They worked all day with no food, nothing to eat. But Diem did not become a communist. DIEM I would never become a communist. Who knows why they let me out? SAGE MAN They said they were keeping him there until he became good. Nine years. There were 1,800 people in the prison when he started. DIEM The low level people, they let them out after 1, 2 years. But I was one of the last eight prisoners from the war. To this day I don’t know why they let me go. Why do the communists do anything? No one knows until five minutes before what they will do. One day they just said "you can go." And I left. They decided I was good. But prison did not change me. SAGE MAN Do you love your country? DIEM Which one? SAGE MAN Which one is yours? DIEM Does it matter? DIEM I love democracy. That is all you need to know about me. You look at my whole life, you look at the choices I have made, that is all you need to know. In America, you have democracy. In Vietnam, you have Communism. No choices. Right now, I love America. But if there was no Communism in Vietnam…I would not be here. SAGE MAN Are you - religious? [He approaches the audience, calmly.] DIEM I practice Buddhism. But I am not religious. I practice Buddhism for practical, every day life. I use Buddhism to help me solve problems, to keep from getting angry. I used it many times in the camp. Always, I try to live in the present moment. SAGE MAN I try – DIEM I try – CHORUS I try to live in the present moment. DIEM That is what Buddhism is. And when we stay in the moment, nothing else, we stay happy and focused. I stay myself. Because of Buddhism, I know who I am and I know where I am. And because of my father. My father taught me well. He got me a good education, and when you have a good education, it’s impossible for anyone to "re-educate" you. You keep going. SAGE MAN You must, or else there's no hope. Is this your...faith? DIEM Faith takes many forms. I have children. I want to be a mirror for my children. The only thing that keeps anyone going is to have hopes and dreams for your children. Isn't this right? I have made a better life for them. And I live here now, in the present. And my life is now to help others, here at the IRC - The International Rescue Committee. Where people come to start over. I know. I know who I am and where I am. [DIEM retreats to the background, returning his tie/jacket to the trunk. Lights alter as SAGE MAN strolls by, eyeing the candles. From the trunk, SAGE MAN takes out a tattered book with pages of various colors and sizes cobbled together and hands it to ELNORD JOSEPH, the bold Haitian man, late twenties. ELNORD strides across stage, holding his makeshift book. He lights the fourth candle. One woman plays the two female minor roles and one man plays the three male minor roles. ELNORD will mostly address the audience. He nods to SAGE MAN.] SAGE MAN The words of Elnord Joseph, from Haiti. He has many stories. [SAGE MAN backs away.] ELNORD My life is an open book. I have no secrets. I am not an intellectual. I did not go to school. I left my parent’s house when I was fifteen. Had enough, moved to the city. In Cayes, I didn’t know anyone. I didn’t have a house, a place to stay. So I worked, did the dirty work, to eat. I didn’t know how to read. So I paid the little schoolchildren to teach me what they knew. The alphabet. I learned the letters. Then I put letters together to make a word. A phrase. Then I didn’t pay the children anymore, I could teach myself. But I didn’t have a book. Everywhere I went, even the dump, if I saw a piece of paper, I picked it up, and I read it and put it in my book. This is my book. Everywhere I go, I read, read, read. SAGE MAN But one day Elnord’s reading was interrupted by a woman driving by on a truck, talking on a megaphone.... MEGAPHONE WOMAN Come and be saved. The sick will be well, anyone who is sick, come to Jesus. If you are blind, you will see. If you are deaf, you will hear. If you are mute, you will speak. [ELNORD looks up at the woman.] ELNORD What is it about? What are you saying? MEGAPHONE WOMAN You know about Jesus Christ? ELNORD I know some songs my father used to sing. MEGAPHONE WOMAN We’re starting a church, come and be saved. ELNORD I have nothing to wear! MEGAPHONE WOMAN No matter! The lord knows you are not rich, he only asks that you do your best. SAGE MAN He only asks that you do your best. [The WOMAN retreats upstage.] ELNORD I had nothing to wear to a place like this. No nice clothes, my shoes - I had run out of shoes. I spent the whole day washing my clothes. Then I waited for them to dry in the sun. When the sun went down, everybody had already gone, all gone to the church, and my clothes were dry. So I went. I don’t know why I went. It was a call. [A PASTOR comes downstage.] ELNORD My father and mother believed in paganism. They believed in God almighty, but also in other spirits. It was not right. To me, it never seemed right. But when I went into that church, everything seemed right. SAGE MAN The pastor put his hands on Elnord's head and said: [ELNORD crosses to the PASTOR and kneels in front of him. The PASTOR puts his hands on ELNORD’s head.] PASTOR Are you willing to accept Jesus? ELNORD Yes, I will, I am, and I’m ready. PASTOR Learn this prayer: Dear Jesus, I’m your child. Protect and keep me. ELNORD Dear Jesus, I’m your child. Protect and keep me. SAGE MAN Protect and keep him. [ELNORD stands.] ELNORD And I became a new-born Christian. I was 22 years old. [ELNORD looks at the book in his hand.] ELNORD Pastor, you have saved me. I have no house, no money, nothing, but I don’t need those things. I need a bible. [PASTOR hands ELNORD a bible. ELNORD takes it, and throws his old book on the table.] SAGE MAN He got one. And the night he got his bible, ELNORD started a business, with ten cents, selling sugar cane. [SAGE MAN hands ELNORD a large piece of sugar cane and ELNORD hands him coins.] ELNORD I bought a big piece of sugar cane, and I cut it. I sold the pieces on the street - four cents, two cents, four cents, two cents. By the end of the night, I had four dollars in my pocket. By the end of the week, I had thirty-seven dollars. In three months, I had three men working for me, everyone wanted to work for me. After I accepted Jesus Christ into my life, He helped me make a business for myself. But then I became very ill. SAGE MAN He went to his father's house. [A man as ELNORD’s FATHER enters with a bedroll, unrolls it, and ELNORD lies down, sickly.] FATHER Son, you are very sick. Many people say you will die. Please, let me take you to get some help. ELNORD No. FATHER You must not be so stubborn! You don’t understand! There are men who can help you. ELNORD I do not need those men. I have Jesus Christ. FATHER Please, my son! ELNORD Their poison can do nothing to me. I have the word of God. [FATHER leaves, angrily.] SAGE MAN Stubborn, Elnord? ELNORD Yes, I was stubborn. But that same night, I had a dream. I was in the back of a pickup truck, driving down a road, sitting up by the driver. On the street there was a man, he said: [The man who was the PASTOR is the DREAM MAN.] DREAM MAN Come down from that truck! ELNORD But I refused. And the driver, he drove on. Three corners later, the man came again. DREAM MAN Come down from that truck! ELNORD But I would not come down. We came to the side of the river Grand Passe. The man was there again, and again he said: DREAM MAN Come down from that truck! ELNORD I held fast. Then the driver turned and told me to get off. So I did. The man threw a rope on me, tied me up. I felt my body turning into a lamb. The man picked me, and took me into the pagan priest’s home, ready for the slaughter. I struggled, and I got free of those ropes. I ran out of that place. I ran and I ran, and the man came chasing after me. I stopped. I caught him, and I broke him. I woke up singing "Victory is Mine!" SAGE MAN And he felt totally well. [SAGE MAN takes away the bedroll. ELNORD holds his bible.] ELNORD Several years later, I had five children. My business was still going, but the country was not. I wondered what kind of life could I make for my children? How could I make the country a better place for them? Many people I knew had these same questions. So we had a meeting. Just to talk. But before we even started, someone found out that we were talking. And then we were all in danger. I decided that I should go away to America. So I hid in the countryside for three months, afraid for my life and waiting for a boat. SAGE MAN Finally, on July 13th, 1981, Elnord Joseph left Haiti. [ELNORD looks off, exhaling.] ELNORD We stayed on that boat for thirteen days. Eighty-seven people, on a boat sixteen feet by forty feet. One man went crazy from the ocean, started trying to bite other people, to throw them over the side. When we arrived in Miami, we were eighty-six people. After that, they sent us to a camp in Puerto-Rico, very rough. We stayed in folding beds, in a tent. When it rained, the water leaked through. Eight hundred people in the camp and none of us knew how long we would be there. Some had family in the United States who would sign for them. SAGE MAN But since Elnord was the first in his family to come to the United States... ELNORD I had no one to sign for me. Some of the men got depressed, suicidal. Two of the men died. But I knew what to do, from the moment I entered the camp. I held my bible in my hand. [Speaking out upstage as if to the detainees.] ELNORD Is there anybody here who is a Christian? [Two PEOPLE come forward. They and ELNORD take the red sash and turn in a circle, holding it.] ELNORD We must pray together. We must pray for the lord to give us strength. We have faced trials before. We will make it through, with his help. [The two back up with the sash, and others start to take hold of it.] SAGE MAN That's when Elnord's ministry started. ELNORD Our prayer meeting spread through our camp. The lord gave us hope and strength. After fourteen months, a man named Walter Hudson signed for me. A stranger, but he had spent many years in Haiti. And a Catholic charity sponsored me. So I went to San Diego. Six years later, I got my green card, I went to visit my family in Haiti. One year later, I got my citizenship and applied for my family. Two years later, my wife came with one child. Two more years, my other four children came. Last Father’s Day, one of my daughters gave me a book. Another book! SAGE MAN A journal. [His DAUGHTER steps forward and presents him with a leather-bound journal from the trunk.] DAUGHTER Here, Papa. You’re so full of stories. Write some of them down. So we can remember. [ELNORD takes the book, holds it in his left hand, his bible in his right. The young woman retreats upstage. ELNORD opens the journal.] ELNORD It’s true. I have a lot of stories. [ELNORD holds the the bible and the journal together. CHORUS members join him. As they stand close together, moonlight shines brighter on them from above. SAGE MAN wanders toward them, playing the duduk soulfully, accompanying the others as they hum a sacred song without words. They retreat upstage, putting their accoutrements in the trunk. SAGE MAN swerves among the candles, around the stage, playing as.... Three women step forward. Helped by the others, SAGE MAN takes Chinese fabrics and blouses, bright red and others, and dresses the three women accordingly. They become three Chinese women: the elder MRS. ANCESTOR, middle-aged THE MISSUS, and the young FEMME. The ladies quickly move downstage and rearrange the entire stage, chatting and laughing as they go.] MRS. ANCESTOR As I used to say all the time to my dear husband, may his soul be kept in the light, one thing has to fall for the other to spring up into the air and take flight. FEMME Mrs. Ancestor? MRS. ANCESTOR Yes darling? Dear sweet darling dulcet dear? FEMME Could you please give me a minute to prepare, it's almost my turn. [SAGE MAN approaches them, fascinated.] MRS. ANCESTOR Oh, I do suppose dear. I do suppose. [The three ladies chuckle and shoo SAGE MAN away. He folds his arms.] SAGE MAN One of these days, they'll get to Alex Chuang. [He retreats to the background. The ladies nod and move downstage, rearranging everything, chatting and laughing as they go. They take the red sash and wave it in the air, playfully, before letting it fall to the ground. They place everything in an upstage corner as they talk, leaving only three chairs in a semicircle, downstage center. They stop to survey the lit and unlit candles.] MRS. ANCESTOR Darling, just imagine my burden. I already know the ending and there’s no one to tell. Sitting here with my answers, seeing you two with your questions, I would expect a little more graciousness for my assistance. THE MISSUS You’re confusing our guests, Mrs. Ancestor. MRS. ANCESTOR Guests? We have guests? [THE MISSUS snaps her gaze to the audience rather sharply.] THE MISSUS Those guests. MRS. ANCESTOR Oh my. Oh my. I suppose I should explain. FEMME Do you have to? MRS. ANCESTOR [ignoring her] The Greeks were the closest. Oh yes. They thought three women sewed, seamed and snipped the threads of fate. But the truth is there are three per family. The truth is that our lives happen a hundred thousand times, and it’s up to those who came before to aid in shaping what comes after. THE MISSUS And the truth is that you never get to choose with whom you share your eternity. MRS. ANCESTOR [assuring the audience] It’s not forever. Just a while. THE MISSUS A long while. FEMME Stop! Both of you. It’s time. I’m not prepared. [Lights change, something happens to let us know we are somewhere new. They stand in a huddle, looking off into the distance and the same spot, FEMME in front clutching a small child. THE MISSUS supporting MRS. ANCESTOR.] FEMME [singing] Oh little baby don't shed a tear. Mother, your mommy, your momma is here. MRS. ANCESTOR [to the audience] Nanking 1934. THE MISSUS China during the Japanese invasion. FEMME ANCESTORS! Show me a way. He is your child, ancestors. He is sick. Malaria. He might not make a name for us. He might not make the night. MRS. ANCESTOR She’s part of our family. She’s holding my great, great, great, great, great, great, great… well you get the idea. I’m old and she’s holding a son of mine, a link back to me. THE MISSUS And me. FEMME Ancestors, what do I do? It’s cold and I’m scared and people are panicked. MRS. ANCESTOR [to the audience] This is the part I hate. I want to tell her to take a train to a distant village. Set up in a small modest hut and not to worry for fate has designed that her husband will find her again. THE MISSUS Well you can’t Mrs. Ancestor. MRS. ANCESTOR I know I can’t Missy. All I can do is give a little push in the right direction. FEMME Ancestors please! What do I do? [MRS. ANCESTOR throws a shawl over her head and walks into the playing space and helps FEMME to her feet. Walks her across the stage to the other side. We hear a train whistle.] THE MISSUS She’s fine. She made it on the right train. They switch a hundred times before they reach that village, but they’ll get there. Mrs. Ancestor will see to that. Do you know what’s going on here? We’re fixing lives together. Placing pieces in parts like a giant puzzle. Working the moments that mean the world. Everyone has their ancestors in their lives. And after a while I’ll stop taking care of the middle. Mrs. Ancestor will become a child again and I’ll fix the end. And then one day I’ll be a new child. The young girl will become the ancestor and I won’t know any answers at all. It goes on like this. Life keeps turning. [FEMME slowly sneaks up behind THE MISSUS.] FEMME America. They made it. The child lived. The mother died a death of age and pride and the youth went off to America. [ALEX CHUANG enters in a labcoat.] THE MISSUS What is this place? So clean and white. A laboratory? The child must be a scientist. [MRS. ANCESTOR stands with FEMME. They watch ALEX proudly.] MRS. ANCESTOR You hear that? My great, great, great, great, great, great, great—well you get the idea— he’s a scientist. FEMME What honor for our name. MRS. ANCESTOR And not just any scientist. A space scientist. An explorer of the unknown. FEMME An engineer? MRS. ANCESTOR Oh I don’t know all the terms dear. I just know he's a big deal in America. But he hasn't forgotten us....Watch. [MRS. ANCESTOR approaches ALEX as if in the middle of conversation.] MRS. ANCESTOR No one is saying a museum's a bad idea Mr. Chuang. YOUTH Doctor. Doctor Chuang. MRS. ANCESTOR Of course: Doctor. All I’m saying is that fundraising is tricky. YOUTH But why should we fundraise? A museum, a museum in the memory of the Chinese Americans, isn’t there money in this country for that? In China we recognized the importance of our history. Here - you don’t understand. This needs to be here. I must preserve Chinese heritage here in America. I did so much for your country, for your space program. This is your country’s chance to do something for me, for my country. Memories are the most important thing we have, madam. Our ancestors are the only link back to what keeps us grounded, to what keeps us whole. I must make a space to honor my ancestors. I will create a tribute in their honor -an altar for their name. Because you see, madam, the ancestor is the most important thing. [ALEX retreats to the background and MRS. ANCESTOR walks over to the other women. She smiles broadly. But FEMME looks worried.] MRS. ANCESTOR Oh, don't worry: he got his funds dear. He opened his museum darling. Happy ending. FEMME But how hard he had to work. Poor man. MRS. ANCESTOR No: Lucky man. Faith through action my dear. It’s what we do, how hard we work, that counts. But isn’t it fun? Here in the world? [MRS. ANCESTOR kisses them sweetly as the three women hold each other close. They take the red sash and circle it around ALEX. ALEX separates from them and lights the fifth candle. They move upstage, where SAGE MAN and the others take off their robes and place them into the trunk. Music.] [Two men step forward: one man becomes NGHIEP LE, another will serve as the minor male roles in NGHIEP’s story. NGHIEP steps farther downstage. He lights the sixth candle. SAGE MAN stops his music to speak.] SAGE MAN The Hindu philosopher once said, "Never lose faith in humanity. Humanity is like the ocean. If a few drops of the ocean become dirty, the ocean does not become dirty." [NGHIEP points at himself with a "Who, me?" look.] SAGE MAN Yes, you, Nghiep. [to audience] From far across the ocean, Nghiep Le. [SAGE MAN urges him forward. NGHIEP turns to the audience.] NGHIEP Faith in God has guided me throughout my life. In a country like Vietnam, where God was not too important to most people, my Father was a man of great faith. In their youth, he and my Mother converted from Buddhism to Protestantism, to the great dismay of my Grandparents. My Father lived his faith every day. It was as much a part of him as breathing-and as it was for him, so it is for me, his youngest son, Nghiep Le. I will never forget this clear demonstration of my Father’s faith when I was six years old. [The FATHER steps forward.] FATHER Nghiep, my son, look at me. Your Mama is very sick. The medicine may not make her better. There is a younger woman who needs the same medicine and there is only enough for one. Nghiep, if the doctors give the medicine to your mother and she dies, then both will die. My son, look at me. Listen. I've told the doctors to give the medicine to the other woman. She has a better chance to get well. There is more for us than this life. SAGE MAN There is more for us than this life.... FATHER Your mama knows where she goes from here. [The Father retreats. NGHIEP swallows his emotion and straightens up.] SAGE MAN Nghiep grew up in a Seventh-Day Adventist Mission. NGHIEP My father was a carpenter and he sold books for the church... SAGE MAN Door to door. He ultimately became a minister. NGHIEP After college, when I returned to Saigon, the church had opened a hospital there, run on the American standard. There were nurses on duty 24 hours and more medicine available. [A beat.] NGHIEP Perhaps no other family would have to make the decision mine made because of a lack of medicine. [SAGE MAN takes a white medical coat from the trunk, placing it on NGHIEP. He clears his throat, wipes his eyes, and continues.] NGHIEP The doctors, nurses and technicians in the hospital were all from the U.S. and the Phillipines. "Where are the Viet Namese?" I wondered. "Only the Patients?" I thought we should have Vietnamese caring for our own people. I was off to Bangkok to a large medical training school for lab and X-ray technicians. I soon became the Personnel and Purchasing Director. I was married to Lang, a nurse at the hospital, and we had two daughters. SAGE MAN One day, the police came looking for Nghiep. NGHIEP I had never registered for the draft. The head of the hospital went to the ministry of defense to try to get an indefinite deferment. We waited. SAGE MAN Nghiep joined the US Army. He spoke English. They needed him. And if he died, his wife Lang and their two daughters would get better benefits. NGHIEP I was in a special forces unit. The CIA had me train others to go back into the villages and I didn’t have to go out into the jungle. It took my hospital a full year to get my final deferment from the draft. As soon as it came through I was discharged from the US Army and returned to the hospital in Saigon. God had a new plan for me…at least it was new to me. The Americans, who knew they could not stay forever, wanted to turn the Army field hospital over to us. The transition happened very quickly. In three days we phased in and the Army phased out. SAGE MAN No one knew then how bad it was about to get in Saigon. AMBASSADOR [played by same actor as FATHER] Nghiep, you need to begin preparations for the hospital staff and their families to evacuate. NGHIEP As I was negotiating for so many to leave the country, I didn’t know if Lang and I would actually be able to get out. I knew I had to send my daughters ahead. Phuong was 6 and Chau was 11. I wanted them to have a future. We couldn’t risk the possibility that they might be forced to witness our torture and execution if we were picked up. It wouldn’t be uncommon...and the Communists were looking for me specifically. SAGE MAN They sent the girls out of the country with a group of Missionaries but to where, exactly, they did not know. NGHIEP We placed them in God’s hands, each with a dog tag around her neck imprinted with a US contact name and phone number. I had faith that I would see them again…if we got out. [VARIOUS PEOPLE run in a circle before resettling upstage, red sash falling to the ground.] SAGE MAN And on April 25, 1975 at seven o'clock.... NGHIEP ...The call from the Embassy came. I had one hour to collect my remaining hospital staff and their families, about 250 people, before the curfew. It seemed an impossible task but we had carefully planned. I believed God would use me to accomplish this. SAGE MAN Messengers were sent throughout the city, some running and some on bicycles. Because cars were not allowed on the streets after curfew, they used ambulances from the hospital to pick people up and bring them to the Embassy. NGHIEP And we succeeded in transporting them all. Early the next morning, all those we’d gathered, including Lang and I, flew from Saigon to the Philippines. I’ll never forget, they showed the movie "Born Free" on the plane. SAGE MAN "Born Free, as free as the wind blows...." [NGHIEP nods at them, as if to say, “Yes that's it...” SAGE MAN hushes up, chuckling.] NGHIEP The following morning we flew from there to Guam and were put on a bus to a camp called Tent City. We passed by a US military barracks that was also holding some refugees. As we drove by, I saw through a window two little girls climbing a stairway. They were my girls!! Later that day our family was reunited. In 1976 my son Peter was born a United States citizen. My wife and I resumed our medical careers here. God had prepared me long ago for this new life. [A beat.] NGHIEP Now I am a community relations representative for Sharp Health Plan. SAGE MAN And the President of the Vietnamese Federation.... NGHIEP [shrugging] ...To help other Vietnamese immigrants learn the culture and the laws. And to teach others about the Vietnamese. [NGHIEP nods to the SAGE MAN and peers into the audience.] NGHIEP I believe that in order to live together we need to understand each other. I believe that God has a reason for everything. I could have been killed so many times, but God’s hand always protected me. We had to leave our home in Vietnam, so clearly God wants us here. Someday I may be even more used to Him here than I was in Vietnam. [NGHIEP whispers a prayer and returns upstage with the two others, as they return their medical coats to the trunk.] SAGE MAN A fellow sage once told us, "It is better to light a single candle than to curse the darkness." Do we truly believe that? [A middle aged WOMAN steps forward. SAGE MAN places on her a deep-colored dress from the trunk. He also hands her a large chunk of white chalk. She has become JEANDARK PUTRIS, a vibrant Chaldean woman. She lights the seventh candle. She draws along the floor downstage, creating a circular boundary for herself.] SAGE MAN Out of the desert comes Jeandark Putris. JEANDARK Welcome to my world! [She swirls the chalk lines back and forth on the ground, as if sand.] JEANDARK Timeless sand, I'm in the sand. The sands of our timeless desert. I have been drawing lines in the sand since I can remember--since my birth in Iraq, just as Saddam Hussein was about to ascend to power. JEANDARK I grew up in a town of 5,000 Catholics surrounded in a land of Muslims. I am Chaldean. [as she slowly rises remaining in circle] Our lineage goes back to Father Abraham of Ur of Chaldea. Our heritage lays claim to one of the seven ancient wonders of the world--the hanging Gardens of Babylon-600 BC. Over the years … the lines have protected me....[she embraces herself] The lines have trapped me....[trying unsuccessfully to dip her toe outside the circle] The lines have blurred....[she rubs out the circle with her foot in a swift turn.] When I was child, I didn’t know the confines of my world. The circle was my safety net. [she redraws her circle around her.] That is, until I rebelled. SAGE MAN Ah, yes. The teenage rebellion. [Lights change.] JEANDARK But first, childhood. It was a life on the farm-—mules, chickens, goats. Doors were always open, we played until dark, no cars, no fear. We met at church every morning at "Sacred Heart of Jesus" – SAGE MAN St. Thomas had brought the gospel to the Chaldeans, not long after Christ. [She holds out her arms to embrace.] JEANDARK It was a multi-generational gathering! We said our rosary together. We worked, we cleaned—all together. And we prayed as we worked--my grandmother could not read, but she had memorized the whole mass! Faith was naturally woven into daily life--my mother said it kept us off of gossip! Gathering each night for my father's bible stories--his favorite was Joseph--king of dreams. What grounded us was the faith of our family.... [The CHORUS whirls the red sash around JEANDARK.] CHORUS The faith of our family... [She returns to drawing.] JEANDARK Television was only available for a couple of hours in the evening and Saddam was often on. At school we had to march for the state chanting, "With our body and our blood, we will sacrifice our life for you, Saddam Hussein." As a child I had a lot to say, [Again trying to step out of her circle, but she withdraws] JEANDARK But I did not feel free to speak. I was the tenth child in a family of twelve. But I never felt lost in the shuffle. Then again any event that singled me out was rare and appreciated. Ahh! My first communion at age seven… -Dressed in all white right down to my underwear and socks -Donning a white veil, like a bride -Given a small white bible almost like a bouquet I think it was the first spark of my falling in love with Jesus. I truly felt like his bride. Since that day, white has become, for me, the color of freedom. [She draws a loving word or shape in the “sand.”] JEANDARK When my father went to town for work, he had to dress like a Muslim and speak Arabic. We spoke Aramaic but only at home. Sometimes when we walked to church, the Muslim children would tease us by mimicking the sign of the cross or kneeling in our path to pray or cover the heads to mock the women. We had a Muslim neighbor who was a friend however. He was in the military and our family watched over his wife while he was out of town. SAGE MAN During the Iraq and Iran War - all borders were closed. JEANDARK Our Muslim neighbor warned father that his sons were not safe from the military and so he sent one of my brothers to Greece and one to Egypt. It was clear to my father that he could not grow and build his rug business and raise his family in safety. It was time to risk the journey to a bigger world … [Drawing a larger circle around her.] JEANDARK The United States-- SAGE MAN Land of milk and honey! JEANDARK Land of opportunity and dreams--Land of religious freedom for all cultures--Heaven on earth! SAGE MAN The year was 1980. Jeandark was eleven years old. JEANDARK We never said goodbye to our neighbors. We sold nothing, so as not to raise suspicion. And we left in the middle of the night. We could not take cash over the border, so my father bought jewelry which we sewed into our underwear. There were check-pointsinterrogations, officers trying to uncover our plans for a new world. Then, a security breach – [A shriek as she swipes an opening into her circle.] JEANDARK My sister--patted down--discovered. "I’ll give you one dinar if you don’t say anything!" she cries. They took the one dinar and let her pass. I believe God shielded their eyes from the jewelry again and again. We made it to Jordan--hungry--tired. Somehow a Lebanese woman, who was a Christian, heard our story and took it upon herself to get us tickets out of Jordan. My father said she was an angel. [The CHORUS raises the red sash around JEANDARK. She rises.] JEANDARK After a long journey and nights of prayers, we got our papers, and God brought my family safely to the United States. [The CHORUS retreats. She twirls around, smearing the lines.] JEANDARK But of course, my parents said "no" to American popular culture! What would you expect? [She straightens up and progressively draws smaller and smaller circles around her] JEANDARK My parents worried, shielded, protected, and tried to keep us at home. You see, there is a group-think in Chaldean families--you are expected to do everything together as a family --go to church--social gatherings--build your business--share the same opinions. But it was too small a world for me. And at thirteen, I became restless to do my own thing. [She stands up.] JEANDARK That is when I rebelled. [She erases all the circles.] JEANDARK I wanted to be out with friends more, so I didn’t go to church as much. I would sneak out of school early; I experimented with questionable language –questionable behaviors. I experimented with everything the world had to offer. SAGE MAN Oh, yes, she did.... JEANDARK But.... [She runs her hand across the floor, “picking up” sand as if falling through her fingers.] JEANDARK I quickly saw it was meaningless. Meaningless. God eventually brought me back, but I stopped going to the Chaldean church. It felt like a show to me…very competitive-very Hollywood-not for faith anymore. I felt at war sometimes… With my culture, my church, my family. But I wanted my own mind. If I entertained marrying outside the culture, I would be disowned. And although my family wanted me to go to college and get my degree in architecture, they expected me to put aside my degree after graduation and work in the store for my brothers. In Chaldean culture, your brothers act like your fatherall of them. "You can take this degree and put it away, do the family business and when you get married then take your degree and get a job." I didn’t want to work in the store to build my brother’s future. Inside I was screaming, "Freedom!" like that scene in Mel Gibson’s "Brave Heart.” SAGE MAN FREE-DOM! JEANDARK I longed for freedom—a life that didn’t choke, that didn’t limit me because I was a girl, but this was not about feminism. Still, I had to draw the line in the sand. [She draws a line right down the middle of the “sand.”] JEANDARK I would have one foot in Chaldean culture- [Plants a foot to the right of the line.] JEANDARK And one foot in American. [Plants a foot to the left of it.] JEANDARK I began going to the American Catholic church. My faith became separate from my culture and it began to grow. Even my father acknowledged that my personal faith grew because I separated from the culture. I did not work at my brother’s store, but took a job in an architectural firm. And quit only to be a mother for my three children. And I did not marry outside my culture. Although, my Chaldean husband is a closet Protestant. The line is a blur at times. It is not easy to integrate faith, tradition, and American culture. SAGE MAN Or any culture. Not easy. JEANDARK But I have taken from my Chaldean roots and embraced American opportunity and freedom and I am my own! [She swirls the chalk/sand lines so there are no longer any lines or boundaries. She takes a deep breath and steps out of the boundary area. She moves to her own inner melody, humming to herself, free as ever, dancing. SAGE MAN escorts her upstage. A WOMAN steps forward. From the trunk, SAGE MAN takes and drapes over the WOMAN a torn and patched ivory dress, which despite its condition is brilliant. SAGE MAN smears dirt and 'bruises' across her face and body. She is now FAITH.] SAGE MAN You are Faith. [Stepping forward is a young man, eyes closed. SAGE MAN takes the red sash and blindfolds him with one end of it, leaving the rest dangling. He has become a Jewish YOUTH. His features are dark, strong, aggressive. His eyes, too-when seen later-are brooding yet childlike: sensitive and seeking. He shivers with cold. He hums softly, rocking himself back and forth. SAGE MAN advises gently.] SAGE MAN Hold close to each other: Nathan Dinnerman, and Faith. [Coming alongside him is FAITH, the woman dressed in white. She is radiant. She tugs on the red sash to get his attention. He turns toward her but cannot see her.] YOUTH Sometimes. Sometimes you have to comfort yourself. Sometimes you are mother and child. Sometimes I pretend that you, Faith, are here with me. [FAITH glides towards him and embraces him tightly.] FAITH You make me sound like a whirlwind, prone to whisk myself away at any moment, fickle as the wind. YOUTH Well you are. You are as fickle as the wind. One minute I feel you in the breeze, another minute I look and the breeze has blown you away. FAITH Oh child, I am here - even in your blindness. YOUTH You’re just words now. You’re just words and sounds and breath on my neck. And breath, breath is a lonely visitor. FAITH I won’t hear it. I won’t hear your pity. YOUTH [angry, suddenly] I starved for you! I ate up my stomach and swallowed my spite! I waited in wilderness and chewed on my tongue for you. FAITH [Strong but not angry, taking hold of the sash.] And did I not let you live? Did I not give you strength? Did I leave you an orphan of the world? Or did I take you in and give you might? YOUTH Let me see you. Let me see your face. FAITH So see it then. See all of me. YOUTH I can’t. You’ve hidden yourself from me. FAITH I’m not playing hide and seek, you are. YOUTH I don’t play games. [She turns him around. Tears the red sash blindfold from his face but stands so he cannot see her.] FAITH Tell me where you looked, and I will tell you where I’ve been. SAGE MAN Ah...! [From this point, whenever FAITH fills in for another character she is still herself. She plays the roles to help YOUTH relive his life. The following is at a faster pace than the previous poetic exchange. They talk life now.] YOUTH Poland. The ghetto. I was fifteen. FAITH Ugh, not another holocaust story. YOUTH [ignoring her] A Wednesday, Rosh Hashana, the Jewish new year. FAITH I let you be born again. YOUTH [ignoring her] Rain fell as heavy as lead. And the men came to our door. FAITH [as guards] OUT! OUT! MEN, WOMEN, CHILDREN OUT! JEWS, JUDEN, BEASTS OUT! YOUTH They were separating men from women. The young from the old. FAITH [as guards] INTO THE STREETS! OUT OF YOUR HOUSES! TAKE NOTHING! OUT! OUT! YOUTH What could I take? What was left? Prayer shawls shredded. Holy books burned. They took away my faith, what could I bring? FAITH They took away the objects of your faith. I was there. [He faces her sharply, locking eyes with her.] YOUTH [Cold and focused] I have yet to see you. I saw a mass of people trapped by a wall of steel. I found myself prodded into line. FAITH [as guards] INTO THE TRUCKS PIGS! STAY IN LINE! IF YOU STEP OUT OF LINE YOU WILL BE SHOT! IF YOU LOOK US IN THE EYES YOU WILL BE SHOT! [as an afterthought] IF YOU DON’T LOOK US IN THE EYES YOU WILL BE SHOT! [almost smiling, very slowly] YOU WILL BE SHOT! YOUTH The rain was mixed with the cries of my family, my strangers, my people. Man and nature moaned in an aching harmony and all I could hear was the irregular beating of my heart. FAITH Look for me child! I’m right there. YOUTH Who knows why I looked there. Who knows why one head turns upward to the sky while another turns downward to check his footing. But I saw a hole. A gaping wide exit to an uncertain future. Someone had cut a hole in the fence and no one could see it but me. FAITH There I am! I was right there! I knew! I was there! [to audience] Didn’t I tell you I’d be here? YOUTH [ignoring her] I said to myself Self, I’m gonna die anyways, better I see something new, better I take a chance. Sometimes exits appear because they have to be taken. FAITH Hello! That’s where I am! I’m there. I’m in the exit. I am the exit. YOUTH [ignoring her] My body knew before I did. My body left my mind in line and sprinted towards the hole in the fence. And then the silence shattered with gunfire. My ears were ringing, my eyes were stinging and my body was numb. Trapped in myself I ran. The bullets were flying like the rain. I dodged them all. Any moment I could be shot. Any moment every moment any moment every moment any moment any moment I could be I could be, could be— [Screams from the CHORUS cut off quickly, YOUTH puts hand to his neck with a loud slap. Everyone freezes. Slowly he feels his neck and touches his fingers to his lips.] YOUTH Blood or rain? Blood or rain? Blood or rain? Blood. [He falls to the ground but is still alive.] FAITH [running over to him] Oh my child, my child. What did you do? YOUTH What else could I do? I closed my eyes, shut up my ears, turned away from my body to be left for dead and... FAITH And? YOUTH I closed my eyes, shut up my ears, turned away from my body to be left for dead and.... FAITH Yes? And? YOUTH And I prayed. Without the words or sacred objects. Me and my God. Me and my fear and my faith and my God I prayed. [He whispers a prayer to himself.] FAITH Amen. YOUTH I disfigured my face, craned my neck and lay still, waiting. The Nazis ceased fire soon after I fell. Others ran for freedom. Others saw an escape. Others had fallen. Strewn across the square the wounded were moving or not moving at all. And with their bayonets, the men in uniform stabbed out any remaining life. FAITH [as guards] MAKE SURE THEY’RE DEAD! CHECK THEIR EYES! CHECK THEIR BODIES! IF THEY AREN’T MOVING THEN THEY’RE DEAD! BUT IF THEY MOVE... THEN THEY’RE DEAD! YOUTH I prayed that I might die for a moment. I prayed that I might stop myself from shaking. Stop my chest from wheezing up and down. And they came closer and I prayed harder. And they came closer and I stopped my breath. As they came closer, I let my body die. [FAITH peers down at him. She takes one last look and walks away.] FAITH [as guards] IS KAPUT! DEAD! MOVE ON MEN! YOUTH They thought I was dead. Everyone thought I was dead. Even the angels looking down counted me with the rest of those who had stopped living. FAITH On a rainy Wednesday. On Rosh Hashana the Jewish new year. YOUTH I was reborn. In the womb of the ghetto I was nurtured and through that gaping chance in a chain link fence. [He rises shakily still clutching his hand to his neck. Quickly, he rips his sleeve and attempts to plug up the wound in his neck. FAITH comes over and ties it around for him.] FAITH Let me help you. YOUTH The woods were in the distance, but I knew I could make them.I knew I could escape. I tried to walk there, hell, I tried to run there. But every time I felt my pulse quicken, my knees buckled and I dragged myself along, knuckles and blood and flesh and bone. [She picks him up, helps him stand, and walks him to the “woods.”] FAITH Here, let me help you. YOUTH [moved and shaken] I left my family in line. I left them behind. FAITH I am not always pretty... YOUTH All I could think of was saving my own life. FAITH Sometimes I am raw and bleeding. Desperate and hungry. YOUTH It was all I could do to block out my mind and make it to safety. To the woods. In and out of the woods for three years I stayed. And the animals, they had compassion for me. Not for a Jew, or a Pole, or even a man. Blind compassion for that which is alive. They licked my wounds. The wounds of man. [FAITH tends to his wounds.] FAITH Let me heal you. YOUTH Who are you, really? FAITH I am Our Faith, my forever child. YOUTH I thought you’d be prettier. FAITH I am not always pretty. You are so hurt. YOUTH I am not always peaceful and passive. I am angry and aggressive. Hope is not idly sitting, waiting for better days. Hope is action. FAITH Faith is action. SAGE MAN Faith is action. YOUTH Where is he, Faith Mother? Where is God? FAITH [Seeing he doesn't understand] Where? YOUTH Where is he? I’ve never seen him. You I see, pretty lady, now and again, here and there, if I cry loud enough. But him, I’ve never seen him. I want to see him. Where is he? Where is my Father God? FAITH Oh my child, he is here between us, in what we create. In that love, God is. SAGE MAN Yes.... YOUTH It’s so cold now. I’m tired of talking. Can I rest yet? Can I rest now? FAITH Of course. Of course. Sleep a while. [She wraps him in a new, clean blanket.] YOUTH I’m glad you came. FAITH I never left you. [She hums him a short melody, entrancing him.] FAITH Good night my child. Sleep soundly. Sweet dreams. [He falls asleep. FAITH lights the eighth candle for him. SAGE MAN and FAITH direct the young sleeping man upstage. SAGE MAN derobes FAITH and she retreats upstage. SAGE MAN plays a striking melody as a young black man steps forward. SAGE MAN takes note of this striking young man and stops. The others in the background take several layers of clothes from the trunk and dress the man until he is over-bundled. He has become DANIEL YAMUNE, a Sudanese young man, 20s. His countenance appears good-natured but made serious by his apparent discomfort with his surroundings. SAGE MAN lingers nearby, still entranced by the emergence of this young man with searing eyes. He nears DANIEL.] SAGE MAN "We are twice-armed if we fight with faith," the Greek teacher said. [SAGE MAN looks him up and down before backing away.] SAGE MAN This - is Daniel Yamune. [DANIEL goes to center stage, a single light illuminating him from directly above as he shuffles. DANIEL lights the ninth candle. The lights suddenly flicker and swirl and the noises of a big city - New York City - begin to blare. DANIEL stares around, completely lost. He keeps looking at a piece of paper and looking up at the buildings. He seems to be freezing, despite the layers of clothes. He is disoriented and mumbles incoherently, despairing. A person hurries to work/paying no attention to DANIEL. A couple walk by ad libbing inaudibly and he fails to get their attention. Finally, a woman walks by. She stops, considers approaching him, then turns around and does so.] WOMAN Are you lost? You look a bit confused. [DANIEL stares at her.] WOMAN Are you okay? [pause] I know how it feels to be lost in this city. What address are you looking for? [Again, DANIEL just stares at her dumbfounded. The WOMAN sees the piece of paper in his hand and gently takes it and reads it.] WOMAN 347 Lafayette. Oh, you're close. It’s right here somewhere! [She looks around and spies it across the street, towards the audience. She points to it and smiles at DANIEL.] WOMAN Will you be okay? [DANIEL nods, forcing a smile.] WOMAN Good luck. [She touches his arm, he reacts, she smiles and goes offstage. DANIEL “walks” across the street. Lights lower downstage and rise upstage right. A woman social worker, MS. GIBBS, 40s, enters. She is slow and looks bored. She has been doing this job for a long time and sees it pretty much as paperwork. They sit on the two chairs near one of the tables.] MS. GIBBS Okay, I can finally get started with your file, Mr… [She tries to pronounce the last name and fails.] MS. GIBBS Mr. Daniel. From Sudan. So how’s America treating you so far? [She smiles at DANIEL, noticing he has on so many layers. He looks like he is about to cry.] DANIEL I am very well, thank you. MS. GIBBS You don’t look very well. I’ve seen ’em all honey and you look like you had one hell of a trip! Now you just came in from Kakuma refugee camp, correct? [DANIEL nods.] MS. GIBBS And that was in Kenya? Not Sudan? [He nods again.] MS. GIBBS Okay. How long were you there? DANIEL Ten years. MS. GIBBS [writes in the file and looks at DANIEL curiously] And before that? Where were you before that? DANIEL Everywhere and nowhere. MS. GIBBS Yeah, some tough days out there I am sure. What town did you live in? What camp? DANIEL Before Kakuma we walked from Pachala Camp. MS. GIBBS We. Now who exactly is we? Do you have some names? DANIEL Me and the other boys. The Lost Boys of the Sudan, the world calls us now. About 12,000 of us. From Pachala only the very ill could get a ride on the trucks to Kakuma, otherwise you had to walk. I had not eaten in 6 days. I gorged myself on the food the UN provided and I got very ill. They were not going to take me in one of the trucks and.... [He is afraid to continue. MS. GIBBS urges him to go on.] DANIEL At the last minute, I secretly wrapped a bandage around my arm and they gave me a ticket to get on the truck. I was one of the fortunate ones. Those who were not on a truck, died. The travel killed them, the food killed them, the lack of food killed them, and even the lions killed them. MS. GIBBS [scribbling furiously] Lions? DANIEL Yes. So many people dying at this time the lions just keep feeding and feeding. They are brave, brazen. They lie in the road and we will not run over them, shoot them. We will not kill a lion unless they are trying to kill us. MS. GIBBS [incredulous] Well, I am sure glad you made it to the camp and to some decent living conditions. DANIEL Yes, decent…there is food. One time every 14 days you would receive food. MS. GIBBS See there, you were eating like a regular American! [trying to make light of the situation] DANIEL [continues matter of factly] 1 gallon of corn, 1 cup of oil, 2 cups of beans, one gallon of flour and a bit of salt. Eating one time a day to survive. [honestly not bitterly] Yes, just like a regular American. MS. GIBBS Well, at least they taught you how to speak English.[chuckles a bit and then feels embarrassed] Okay, so we need to create a background sheet for you so we can get you assigned to a city here in our fine United States. Tell me everything you can remember about wherever it is you lived, okay? DANIEL Yes. Everything I remember. [DANIEL moves to the other side of the stage into silhouette – we hear a festival, people talking and laughing. Stepping forward is DANIEL's family, represented by MOTHER, FATHER and GROWN CHILD, DANIEL's sibling. They enjoy the night air; Mother hums a tune and dancing around the stage a bit. Child and Mother move around the stage, gracefully, familiar and comfortable. DANIEL is drawn to them. Their ring of movement comes closer and closer to DANIEL and he is literally transformed back to this time with his family. The entire family takes hold of the red sash and dances with it, keeping connected by it. The lights fade and there is a sound cue of people screaming, guns being fired. The others in the background pull the sash away and wave it wildly. All goes silent. The light comes up on the silhouette of DANIEL.] DANIEL Our village was destroyed that evening. That wonderfully pure, still evening. Men burst into our home, grabbing anyone and anything they could. I remember our father yelling to run…just run. I took no time to think, I was too scared, so I ran. I never imagined that would be the last time I saw my family - my mother, father, my siblings. I was only six years old. [DANIEL wanders, pausing, keeping within a small radius of the backdrop with the pinpoint light.] DANIEL I wandered for 3 days searching for them, for anyone. The only people I saw were dead people. There was no mercy. What had we done? Where was my family? Why didn’t my family find me? [pause] At night I slept in tree branches and tried to go unnoticed. I was so afraid they were after me. They must have wanted my family for something. No one would just enslave and kill an innocent family. I wanted my mother back. Just a boy, wanting his mother back. [He starts weeping and in child-like fashion huddles up in front of the backdrop and tries to go to sleep.] DANIEL Then I wake up to a far away sound. It is a call the native tribes use when they are lost and looking for others. [He slowly raises his head and listens] Could it be? Mom? Dad? Is it you? [Begins to weep quietly] Is it you? Please, be you. [He cautiously stands and looks towards the sound.] I found 2 adults. Not my family, but at least I had found someone else. They told me I needed to go with them, that our village was no longer safe and we must leave. They said we would find my family later, now we must go. We began walking. Just walking. SAGE MAN He was finally told they were walking to Ethiopia. DANIEL I had no idea that those first harried steps would be the beginning of an unforgettable and torturous journey. We finally met with others from our village whose homes had been burned and were also forced out due to the northern, Khartoum-based government that was driving us out. We were to conform to Islam or leave our home. We chose to leave. I had no idea at the time, but there were about 26,000 of us walking over 1000 miles across the Sahara desert. We had no clothes, no shoes, very little food. We would eat what scarce berries and leaves were available. We ate from the Lalop tree when we could find one. At times we would put wet sand on our throats to cool it. Wet from animal urine, but it worked. It would be 100-120 degrees every day, so we tried to find shade during the day and would begin walking at sundown and walk through the night. [DANIEL has been walking around the stage during all this, getting more and more tired with each step. Finally he collapses and calls to those ahead of him. He grabs one end of the red sash.] DANIEL Please, I can’t walk anymore. I want my mommy. Please, where is my mommy? [He begins crying] Mommy, where are you? [SAGE MAN, as one of the LOST BOYS, runs downstage, as if coming “back.” He pulls on the red sash, pulling DANIEL upward toward him.] LOST BOY/SAGE MAN Come on, young one. You can do it. You have to do it! [He tries lifting DANIEL and he himself is so weak he falls to the ground. They just stare for a moment.] LOST BOY/SAGE MAN Come with me. We have lost about half of us already, and we won’t lose you. Come on. [DANIEL and the SAGE MAN slowly rise and go with the “others.” The boy retreats and DANIEL stands again in silhouette.] DANIEL Ethiopia lasted about 4 years. I had grown. I was now 10 years old and becoming a young man. The natives did not care for us, they called us the rebels. I did not know what a rebel was, yet I was one. Then the shooting and fighting started again. The Ethiopian government was overthrown by the native people and we were to leave immediately. Two of my friends who had become my surrogate family were shot. I had to leave them there and run. No one should ever have to do that. [He regains his composure.] DANIEL 18,000 of us this time began walking again, now heading back towards the Sudanese border. [The others hold the red sash in the background as DANIEL takes hold of one end, as if gaining strength from it as he walks to death.] DANIEL We were being followed by armed militia. If they got close enough they would shoot as many of us as they could, so we kept moving. When we finally reached the Sudanese border we felt we were safe from them at least. They wouldn’t follow us into Sudan. We were out of their country, right? Wrong. [A beat.] Deep in Sudan is one of the most rich and powerful rivers. The river Gilo. [A beat.] The most horrific part of this whole journey for me. [Trying to shake the memory away.] DANIEL People were just starting to feel safe; for the first time we had food. The Sudanese rebels were there and gave us something to eat. We had time to sit and build a fire. We had water from the river. Things were finally looking good. [He mimes some of the following] my friend Garant and I had just been given the use of a campfire. We had just begun to cook when a black, cold feeling covered everything. I looked up and noticed some people running. Then shooting, and more people running. I look up at the riverbank above us and they are just lined up shooting down at us. Our choice was to stand and die or take our chance getting into the river. DANIEL Garant was running in front of me when suddenly he just wilted to the ground. A man pushed me ahead towards the river. It’s okay Daniel, he kept saying. It’s okay Daniel. We landed in the water and in one breath he disappeared. Once in, people are using one another to stay afloat and they only end up dead. Crocodiles are thrashing about eating people. Others are dying of gunshot wounds all around me. I can’t see. I can’t hear. I CAN’T DO THIS!! [His arms are sprawled wide, almost entangled in the red sash, and he falls to the ground. Blackout, except for the candles. In the blackout there is the low sound of a lion, growling. The lights rise dimly. DANIEL, exhausted, lies in a heap. He moves with the nearby sound, trying to detect what it is.] DANIEL [Disoriented, whispering] Dear Lord, am I alive? Did I die in the river? Where am I? Please tell me what that sound is. My mother told me of the sound of a hungry lion and I fear that is what I hear. Please lord, please. Help me. If it is my time to go, then so be it, just promise you will take me to my mother. [He quickly quiets down as the lion gets closer. He holds his breath for a moment and the lion passes him by. We watch DANIEL stare in disbelief as he follows the sound of the lion leaving through the tall grass. He melts back down to the ground and sleeps, free from the sash.] [The lights go to black and when they come back up, DANIEL is back in New York City with MS. GIBBS at the table. He is sitting in the chair staring off into space as if he were in mid-sentence and just frozen. MS. GIBBS has a horrified look on her face, stunned by all she has heard.] MS. GIBBS Daniel? Are you - ? [DANIEL is barely aware or moving.] MS. GIBBS Can I - get you anything to drink? DANIEL No. No, thank you. I am fine. [He gathers himself and straightens up in the chair.] After that I finally made it to Pachala Camp and you know the rest. MS. GIBBS I have seen many people come and go in this job, but you… you are rather extraordinary. You shock me with your kind eyes and your quick, easy smile. How did you live through such a thing and find the perseverance to go on? DANIEL Faith. [SAGE MAN brightens.] SAGE MAN Faith! DANIEL Just my faith. My mother always says… MS. GIBBS Your mother is alive? Is she here with you? DANIEL No. I mean yes. My mother is alive in Sudan and so are my 2 sisters. I talked to them last year for the first time in 15 years. Someone in the village took my mother to the nearest phone and my friend arranged a phone call. [He smiles his huge, bittersweet smile.] They did not believe the man on the phone was their Daniel. My mother. I actually spoke to my mother. She always says I was meant to be something. I was meant to make a difference somehow, and I will. Just give me a home. Please, tell me where I am going to live. MS. GIBBS I think I have the perfect place. Do you like the ocean and long, sandy beaches? I have an opening in San Diego, California and I think you are going to love it there. DANIEL [In all seriousness] Is it cold there? In this San Diego? Is it cold there like it is here? I can’t do it if it’s cold there. [SAGE MAN laughs.] MS. GIBBS [chuckling] No, it’s not cold there. Not in Southern California. Let’s get you all set up. [She scribbles on a new paper.] MS. GIBBS I will never forget you, Daniel. And what your mother says? She’s right. You have made a difference, already. Trust me. [MS. GIBBS gets up, shakes DANIEL's hand and retreats upstage. DANIEL takes off a few layers of clothing and tosses them in the trunk as he realigns upstage. With his duduk, SAGE MAN plays the same melody. FAITH hums.] [All the players get up and step forward, humming the same melody. They are connected by holding the red sash. When he finishes, SAGE MAN strides downstage center and takes hold of it too, addressing the others as they move wavelike across stage.] SAGE MAN For the eyes of God move to and fro across the earth, searching to strengthen hearts. Welcome home. To a new heaven, a new earth - and a new song I sing. [The SAGE MAN walks with new vigor towards the nine lit candles. He lights the tenth and final candle.] SAGE MAN Have you not known? Have you not heard all of God's prophets here? [Peering out.] SAGE MAN There is no point - no point! - in having a soul unless it is on fire. [The others flail the red sash above them and let it go.] [He looks up into a lone ray of light, surrounded by the CHORUS.] [He and the entire group extend their arms forward as if inviting the audience.] SAGE MAN Come. [As lights fade, we see only the illuminated candles, and pilgrim faces, ever alight.] THE END (written 2004) © 2006 by Lisa Kirazian