Alejandra is a Honduran woman in her mid-fifties who is preparing for a very important visitor. On this day someone is coming to her home to interview her about the trip that she took forty years ago in 2018 from Honduran to America. She was a part of the Caravan to America and it is now about to be added into a history book. It is very important to Alejandra that the interviewer get the story right. She tells the story of why she needed to flee her home country, the murders of her father and brothers and the day that her mother told her that she had to leave. With a backpack and a bible in hand she joined the caravan. Her story is compelling remembering all of the humanitarians who came out and fed them, gave them water and rides to get them closer to the border. The deaths and the lives of the wonderful people she traveled with. Then finally reaching the border and being detained, the detention centers and the hatred they encountered at the border. Finally, she is granted asylum only to endure more racism from American citizens who treated her like she was not welcome. The scene goes back and forth between adult Alejandra and her as a teenager on the trip to America. It is a story of courage and limitless strength that is beautifully told through the eyes of someone who never thought she was a fighter.
***The performer speaks Spanish within the piece, it is actually encouraged. The publication specifies that the actor may speak as much Spanish or as little as they may choose.***
(Scene opens with Alejandra, a Honduran woman in her early sixties is diligently working to make tea. ***She talks to herself in Spanish.***)
Tea setting for two. (Laughs)My mother is rolling over in her grave I am sure of it. Her Honduran daughter setting the table for tea time, definitely not a thing we had ever done growing up. (Beat)I miss that. You never know you’re poor until someone tells you, never know you’re living in poverty, we thought homelessness was a game that all of the families on our street played like champions. Fucking shit game to play. (Laughs)I felt like my family was always winning at the game of life. (Beat)
(Her mood is nervous and yet excited. She puts the hot water into the tea pot, sets the cups and pauses to look at her work for a moment. A slight rush of emotion comes over her. She hears a knock at the door. She checks the table one last time and answers the door. ***Note the following section of the performance is to be performed completely in Spanish.*** The idea is for the audience to possibly feel uncomfortable or left out of the conversation.)
(Alejandra invites the person in and offers her a seat. She sweeps around the room chatting to her visitor.)
I am glad your newspaper has taken an interest in our journey. No one wakes up one morning deciding on something like this. It wasn’t a decision, I mean there wasn’t a decision to be made the decision was made for us. It wasn’t about becoming a part of history. (Beat)It was about living to actually have a history. Simple things, to be able to wake up, drink a cup of coffee on the porch, look up, close my eyes and not only see the sun but let the sun rest on my face just for a minute or two without needing to feel fear. I didn’t know what that was like, not feeling fear, yeah, I don’t know what fearless feels like. (She looks to the interviewer)I’m sorry I’m just running off in my own direction. (Beat, she looks at them with confusion then realizes that the interviewer can’t understand Spanish and laughs. She begins to speak in English.)Oh, would you rather I speak in all English for you? (Laughs)That’s exactly what the border people wanted. Told us, “This is America, speak American!” That story always made me laugh, I told him in Spanish, “Only an ignorant man with a gun would proclaim that, not even realizing “American” isn’t a language.” And I’m the immigrant. (Laughs)