By Teresa Hernández

Translated by Marlène Ramírez-Cancio

Beginning (description): Senator Pardonme enters the theater and takes a seat in the audience. She is an obese, asthmatic, and hypochondriac woman. It seems she could collapse at any moment. She uses a walking stick and wears a conservative outfit consisting of a skirt, a blazer, and a scarf, which makes her look like an Evangelical fundamentalist. But she isn’t one. As soon as she takes her seat, we hear the beginning of the Puerto Rican national anthem, “La Borinqueña.” A voice-over abruptly cuts off the music: “Joining us now, please welcome Senator Pardonme of Puerto Rico.” (Recorded applause)

Senator Pardonme gets up, exchanges her walking stick for a microphone stand, and walks onstage. Speaking into the mic with a shaky voice, she begins her speech:

SENATOR PARDONME: Thank you very much. Good morning, thank you... Before I receive this honor, I would like to thank Our Lord the Creator, (an asthmatic wheeze kicks in) Jehovah, The Man Upstairs... Pardon me, however you prefer to call him. I would like to thank that almighty being, because without Him, none of this would be possible. Forgive me for speaking a little about religion, but I do believe that’s where we need to begin... Amen.

With the authority bestowed upon me by the Law and by the Free Associated Statutory ra--... I’m sorry, State, of Puerto Rico... I gratefully and proudly accept this recognition awarded to us by UNESCO and the Commission for the Protection of Tiny Countries, for being the only pre-state country in existence. We are very proud to... (She interrupts herself.) I’m sorry, if anyone here doesn’t understand what I’m saying, please interrupt me, really, I mean, since we don’t speak Spanish the way you do, I apologize, and with all this going back-and-forth between official languages ——a few years with this one and a few years with that one—- it’s a real mess. Sometimes, when I have to speak “officially” at some function, I don’t know whether to say “Welcome,” “Hello,” “Alou,” “Hola”... and I get all confused... (Her asthmatic wheezing becomes more and more persistent and uncomfortable) It’s such a mess, this thing with the... thing, what’s it called... language. So, please, if anyone doesn’t understand, just tell me, I’ll repeat it any way you’d like, it’s my pleasure to be whoever you want me to be... Mom always told me: “you should serve, because the server always gets to eat.” That’s why I became a public servant. I count on you!

The fact that we merit such a high distinction has elevated the name of our beloved little land to almost-skyscraper heights. Because of this recognition... Pardon me... (She gets an asthma attack. Discreetly, she takes out her medicine, inhales twice, and continues) I have a little asthma this morning... This time of year always makes me crazy... Ever since I was a little, little girl, when I was nothing, as Mom used to say, “you’re nothing”... because as you know, little things are nothing... I’d suffer from terrible asthma... worse than now, but I feel better already, thank you (she scratches her throat), my apologies.

As I was saying, because of this recognition, and in light of our Miss Universe victory... We won! (In a colloquial tone) I’m sorry, I know everyone would like to win, but you know, they had to give us the prize because we were the hosts this year, the show was made there, aha. Mr. Donald Trump was really happy, you can imagine, we treated him like a king... We already have four, four Miss Universes and a saint, may he rest in peace, he just got beatified, Saint Charlie, that’s his name. Actually, his real name is Carlos, but everyone called him Charlie since he was little, so Saint Charlie it is... Well, let’s see if these true representatives finally “get us on the map,” so to speak... Really, because, I mean, I’m sorry but sometimes I get to certain countries and they have no clue where we are, I guess it’s not their fault, I mean, we’re just a teeny speck... (She switches to a political oratory tone) And this is why I have decided, through the legislative commission over which I preside, that I will push for a law that advocates the mandatory inclusion of a magnifying glass along with every map that is manufactured...! Well actually, not every map, I mean, just the maps we have access to, the maps of the United States...! We’re already requesting permission from Congress, and if they say yes... forget it, we’ll use our Miss Universe and our Saint Charlie and I assure you there won’t be a country or a heaven that won’t know where we are...

Oh Sweet Jesus! I may be standing here, but I’m very ill, I’m seeing double, I’m dizzy, dizzy... I hope everyone can hear me okay, (almost crying, desperate), I’m sorry I can’t speak any louder, I had surgery on my vocal chords, and I have no tonsils, and I had my spleen removed, and a kidney too, and my liver is... I practically have no insides, and it’s so hard for me to keep a train of thought... (She’s on the nerve of a nervous breakdown) Oh, Lord Almighty! I forgot what I was saying... I don’t know why I’m here!... Lament! Where’s Lament? Dear Christ, forgive me! I went blank... This has happened to me before, there’s times when Lament, my secretary, has to escort me out of places and I look at her and say, “Who are you?”.... Can you imagine? I don’t even recognize my Lament! Lord have mercy! (Desperate, she finds someone in the audience and asks her for help.) Ma’am, if you would be so kind as to tell me where I am... (And, as if she had been illuminated by the Holy Spirit, she energetically says) Fuente de Agua Viva Church, I’m yours! (Her asthmatic wheezing returns) The recognition! Brothers and sisters, we’d like to thank UNESCO and the Commission for the Protection of Tiny Countries for having chosen us as the only pre-... (Out of breath, she collapses to the floor.)

VOICE-ACTRESS-NARRATOR: Oh! This country suffocates me. It’s so hot! This country chokes me. (The actress begins to take Senator Pardonme’s clothes off, and asks someone in the audience) Give me a hand, would you? Help me take off my patrimony... Did I say patrimony with a P? If I don’t take this off I can’t tell you the story... (By now she has taken off her clothes and is standing with Senator Pardonme’s body in underwear; this body is made of foam and is divided into two parts, upper and lower body. With the help of the audience member, she removes the upper body as she talks.) How can I distance myself if I’m inside? It isn’t a story I’m going to tell you, it’s more like a comment, a puny little comment... Did I say puny with a capital P, or was it lowercase? (She walks to a chair upstage right, and sits down to take off Senator Pardonme’s lower body.)

There’s three of them, three sisters –—and I say three so as not to say ten or twenty or three million—— there’s three sisters. No allusion to theology or mythology. No, no, no, no relation to the three “parkas” of Scandinavian mythology, those three deities of destiny: Past, Present, and Posterity, as they were called. They were made of time. But not these, not the sisters I’m telling you about, Pardonme, Pragma, and Perpetua, they’re not made of time. (She walks downstage, close to the audience) Instead, their bodies are made of complexes, junk food, denial, passion, pain... (She puts on a vaporous, black and red evening gown, which has been on the floor from the beginning. It is Perpetua’s costume.) They are three sisters, all with a similar face but different bodies. Three sisters: Senator Pardonme, Pragma “La Continental” (as she likes to be called), and Perpetua the singer. Each one carries her own lament: the Senator with her secretary Lament; Pragma with her assistant Lament; and Perpetua with her accordion player Lament. (She crouches down to put lipstick on.) Pragma couldn’t come on this trip, did I tell you that already? She didn’t want to... Her motivational talk, “Shame on You for Being Small,” has enjoyed tremendous success, and you know she believes in progress... (Slowly, she fixes her wig, completing her transformation into Perpetua.)

PERPETUA (grabbing the microphone stand, she dances her way to the opposite corner): How much joy I can breathe in this petite room, petite with a capital P! Eh! How are your seats, audience? Are they square or are they round... or does the audience not have a tongue... Audience, you must to exercise your tongue!... so you can enjoying with your singer, Perpetua, who will make you to live the music with the songs that fill your soul down to the sole of your shoes...! (Perpetua speaks Spanish with a Portuguese-Italian accent. She is a singer who doesn’t sing: when she announces a song, she dances. Her body language is made of fluid movements, slides, falls, and floor movements. She is passionate and intense, although she also reveals her fragility.)

Before we begin, it is important to giving an explanation, no excuses like my older sister Pardonme, no excuses, but still for me it is important a clarification. If a person in the audience does not comprehend some word that I emit, please raise your arms and I will quickly (she slides with the microphone to the floor) translate into local version... Simple, I cannot speak in local voice, my vocal chords have been intervened... operated... When I was piccola with a capital P... they changed my voice for a global voice... Por quê?... (Getting up) So that I could reach a wider latent audience... But however, inside my vocal chords is still remaining pre- and post-national territories... But we are not here for speaking of serious things, nor of nations, we are here to (moving all around the stage) living the music with the songs that fill your soul down to the sole of your shoes...! (She finishes her movements and takes her place upstage left, ready to “sing.”)

I cannot explain you my presence in this activity, but this is not important, everything does not has the justified explanations of reason, the wisdom of the body has answers that I like to hear... This first song that I will interpret is dedicated to all the local voices that have been locked inside a box, for you, my song: “Escape the Local”... (We hear the piano number “Noliu” by Chucho Valdés, and Perpetua dances her first “song” to the music. Gradually, the music fades and the dance ends in silence, with Perpetua on the floor holding the microphone.) Grazie, molto grazie... I love to singing!... I never do the same way twice, eh? This is the joy of the stage...

Always I sing this song, I remember one of my sisters. My sister Pragma. But Pragma does not liking the local, oh no, it is the opposite... Pragma, she is continental... She is ashamed to be with Pardonme or with my own person... Pragma does not accepting... Bom, but these are the private stories of the family... (She kneels and, still holding the microphone, walks as though she were a dwarf.) Mamma and Papai always used to say: “Pretend, do not give yourself away: você não capisci who you are, you are not what you are...” (She is now in a melancholy mood, and she continues speaking in a confessional tone) All the three of us have been operated, in different ways, but operated. (She stands up) Without consulting, without explicação, we domestically learned how to forget, but forgetting becomes a burden or a lament, one lament, two laments, one thousand laments...

Oh! I think the audience is believing what I am saying. Audience, we are not here to believing! Why are we here? (She again switches moods, and is now euphoric, anxious.) To live the music with the songs that fill...! (Brief pause. She realizes she has gone overboard, and calmly approaches the audience.) Audience, I think I have reached the finale, the finale of the week?, of the month?, of the millennium? The finale alone is no good, audience, for knowing that at some moment we have to begin...

This last song I will interpret to you needs the accompaniment of my audience... What do you say, do you dare to accompany your Perpetua? Nothing better than to singing by acompanhamento, absolutely, nothing better... This song is dedicated to all the latent audiences, the visible and the invisible, minha audiência, to tell this song you need strength to sing... So then, with you and for you, la mia canzone... “Carry My Weight” (She offers herself to the audience so they can carry her. As she is passed from person to person, she improvises with the following phrases) Nothing better than to sing with acompanhamento! Let everybody singing with your Perpetua! Che bello canta la audiência, don’t be afraid to singing with your Perpetua!Let yourself go in the música!... (She leaves the audience and, walking on her knees, says) How much joy I can breathe in this petite room, petite with lowercase P! (Pause. The actress gets up, beginning her movement by removing her wig. With the voice of another character, she continues)

VOICE OF ISABELLA: A body on top of another body is not copulation. (The actress takes off Perpetua’s costume, and begins to put on Isabella’s: a long, dark blue cape, fashionable eyeglasses, and a very “chic” wig...) They are layers of voices that free the creator-being. A body that wants to speak from the body: artistic or artificial body? No. It is a body inhabited by other bodies so she can make herself comfortable or uncomfortable before the audience... (She has finished her transformation into Isabella.) Now that I have my body, allow me to introduce myself:

(She walks upstage center, grabs her pink heels from the floor, and as she puts them on with great flair, she speaks)

ISABELLA: My name is Isabella Fernández, art critic, specialist in performative experiences, post-doctoral studies in multibilingualism, identity, and sexual acts in Latin America and the Netherlands... (She moves around the stage as if she were on a runway: she is a “fashion intellectual”) Let’s go right to my talk...

We are currently in this hemispheric institutional bubble to scratch and scrutinize among ourselves the topic at hand, namely, Performance and Politics in the Americas: Memory, Atrocity, and Resistance. Quite a touching title to frame us...

This title immediately evokes, that is, I re-think once more about my native country. Puerto Ricans have an atrocious resistance to memory. Each day that passes marks a new forgetting in our 100-by-35 mile island. An oblivion imposed and sometimes chosen as a survival mechanism. At times it becomes necessary to “hit the reset button” to avoid suffering the political de-culturizing bestialities. Nonetheless, the days go by, then the years, and we eventually go blank like Senator Pardonme in her speech.

(Brief pause. With her assertive model walk, she moves upstage right, and sits down on her chair to continue her dissertation.) Let’s discuss the performance we saw a few moments ago...

We have a government employee (points to the Senator’s body, which is still on the floor), obese from superfluous excesses, mediocrity, hypochondria, literally a ball of complexes. The poor woman never received affirmation of her inner self. As a national counterpoint, we have a singer who doesn’t sing. Perpetua’s being is complex: it is, and yet, it is not. A middle sister who didn’t come with them, pragmatized before the positivism of progress, denying her family origins...

It seems to me, ladies and gentlemen, that we are witnessing one of the most debated paradigms of all times: “To be or not to be,” it’s not that easy, Shakespeare. As you all know, we’ve been a colony for a little while now, and this type of “psyche” manifested by the sisters is symptomatic of the colonial experience. Many Puerto Ricans are ashamed to touch upon this subject, especially those in the academic circles, who think it’s passé, and I understand them. I felt that way for many years, but then, after undergoing the experience of colonial therapy, I was able to face this reality more bravely, to confront the multiplicity of identities. We have refined colonized subjects, angry colonized subjects, ambiguous colonized subjects, happy ones, colonized subjects who believe they have overcome being colonized... Anyway, there’s nothing like understanding the colonizing experience. (Dramatic pause, she stands up and walks center stage.) Ladies and gentlemen, I think I have succinctly discussed the topic at hand. Many thanks for your attention, and I’ll see you in the cyber world... Goodbye...! “Taxi”! (She freezes for a second. End.)