Mooooovie!

Libby just posted a sweet teaser trailer for the documentary! It’s not super long but it’s got some good footage and dramatic music. I actually recommend watching it with even more dramatic music, say, the Requiem for a Dream theme song. Bonus: there’s a shot of Julia, Rodrigo and I halfway through the second week looking like we want to die! Check it out here.

No More Scripts

The performance went off without a (significant) hitch, and the kids enjoyed it.  I was “backstage” getting b-roll while Libby was getting the performance, and the kids were as well behaved as you could expect (with Diana’s stern face making sure they don’t run outside screaming.)

When it was over, we had cake and got certificates, and Rafaela gave us a little speech.  I’m not sure exactly what she said.

We’re not done yet with shooting the doc.  We’re going back this week to get more interviews with Rafaela and hopefully the kids.  I doubt Caren will want to, as we only had one interview with her, and to get it, we had to bribe her with volleyball.  She told us her name and age, then started to say “volleyball! volleyball! volleyball! volleyball!” and didn’t answer any more questions.  She also hasn’t spoken to me since, you know, I dropped her.

Tino and Paloma’s MOM showed up.  She seemed younger than us, and had two even younger children.  So, they’re brother and sister.  How’s that for something to learn right as it’s over.

I’ve got more to come, hopefully with better structure and more pictures, but after a hearty helping of ceviche tostadas, we’re gonna enjoy some Pacifico™ while maybe playing cards.

2 Diplomas, 1 Summer

Safe Driving!

The awesomeness began with us not having to get up at 7am. Instead we got up at 10, had a leisurely breakfast, and then made a bunch of crap out of cardboard. Rodrigo and I also had to transport the set piece from his house to the Orfanatorio, so we did that without breaking any traffic laws. (this is only a half-lie because Mexico doesn’t have traffic laws) We didn’t have a whole lot of time and we still had to pick up some cake, juice, and art reception stuff at the supermarket too. And print out the new scripts. And get all gussied up. When we dropped off the house/boat scenery all the kids ran out to see it and were really excited. That was pretty unexpected, and a huge morale booster. They were all doing their hair and trying to decide what they should wear for the performance and had tons of questions for us. A complete 180 from, well, most of the past three weeks. Very exciting. Then we had to split to get our other stuff done.

After our errands, we ended up getting to the Orfanatorio thirty minutes later than we wanted, and had a lot less time to go over the stuff we wanted to go over with the kids. We realized on the way there that we hadn’t ran transitions between scenes, the opening or ending of the show, and we hadn’t even mentioned bows or curtain calls. Rodrigo went over all that stuff with them and ran transitions really quickly while Julia made some last minute costume and prop repairs, and Gus, Libby and I hung up artwork and set up the audience and things like that. We were set to start at 4pm, but people didn’t really start arriving until 5 minutes before then so we ended up starting at 4:15 or so. There ended up being about 10 or 15 people in the audience not including the other kids from the Orfanatorio who were watching or done with their scenes.

Sweet Shark Action

Before the show started, we gave the kids a pep talk and tried to get them psyched while calming their nerves. Rodrigo would be the Narrator for the performance and would remain in the stage area in case something went wrong and the kids needed help. Julia and I, in our roles as Cloud Man and Seagull respectively would remain backstage and organize entrances and exits and backstage noise. Unfortunately, this meant I actually only got to watch the very end of the show, and the rest of it I heard and saw through the crack of the backstage door.

The play started without a hitch! Caren, Laura and Yuri went out there and did their awesome aunt routine and it was great. About a minute in, Tino realized he had to go to the bathroom really badly and it couldn’t wait so some of the girls ran off and let him use the bathroom the adults use. There were several missing costume crises and a few straps I had to reattach during the show, but for the most part everything was fine backstage.

I screwed up one part and told the sharks to go onstage way earlier than they were supposed to. I think that ended up being more funny than bad though. Sharks are awesome and all they do is circle the actors anyway so nothing bad happened. Then I went in with my fellow seagulls. Our job is to circle (like the sharks) and then pretend to get caught when Jaime and the bugs harness us and lift the peach out of the water. We did our job well. The whole time I was circling though, Kevin (as a shark) was biting the back of my shirt. He hung on the entire time, even as the seagulls flew away. He’s a pretty convincing shark.

Next thing I knew the play was over, and we were out in the audience cheering and clapping for the kids onstage. We made a short announcement thanking the audience and congratulating the kids and then told everyone to eat cake.

Rafaela

But before we could all eat, Rafaela took the stage and started talking about the course—how proud she is of the kids for getting up there and doing this (voluntarily or not), and that she loved watching them get over their fear of expressing themselves and was amazed at the progress in their drawings and their acting. She also spoke for a bit about how much of a learning experience this was for us teachers, that we had come a long way too. She said she had a little something for us, and called us up onto the stage one by one. She gave each of us a little diploma from the Orfanatorio de Mazatlan saying thank you and congratulations. She said that this place is our home now too, and that any time we want to come and visit we are more than welcome to. So there we’re standing onstage, exhausted, dehydrated and a little teary eyed (NOT ME THOUGH I NEVER CRY) and then the kids start running up to us serving us delicious cake and juice and we just have no idea what to do. We took a lot of pictures, played a lot of tag, and fed the kids delicious Hawaiian treats. (Red Li Hing Mui Crack Seed—that’s the red stuff that their mouths and hands are covered with. I was surprised they liked it actually, I think it’s pretty gross) Lots of hugs and lifting and spinning kids and lots of red fingerprints on our dress shirts. As a side note, NEVER wear long pants and nice shirts in Mexico. I feel like my whole shirt is just one big pit stain.

FIENDS

The kids were running around having fun and being chaotic, but every now and then someone would run up and ask us if we were leaving now and whether we’d be back on Monday. I didn’t really know what to say. I’ve been warned that you’ve got to be careful with your leave-taking. I remember when I volunteered at Head Start in high school I promised the kids I would come back to play with them. I meant it, but I never went back. This time though, we do have to go back. Partially because we have to get some more footage of the Orfanatorio and interview the staff for the documentary, but also because we just have to. I think we’re going to head back next week and watch James and the Giant Peach with them in Spanish. Or Big Momma’s House 2. Whichever they prefer.

And soon we were being herded out because the kids had to get ready for dinner and bed and school starts Monday and they’ve got other stuff to do. Weird weird weird. I somehow forgot that we were just one more activity they had scheduled this summer to fill the three weeks before school started. In some ways it makes me feel better to think of what we’ve been doing as a summer fun program. I hope that’s what it was for them. And then all of the sudden we were in the car, driving home, carrying away the absurd trunkful of drawings that the kids gave to us.

Breathing

All done. It was great. Pictures to come tomorrow morning.  I promise. We are off to celebrate. Thanks for reading!

p.s. Gus says “Hell yes”

!

T-minus 3 hours till lift-off. Sufficiently jazzed on three cups of coffee, I just fashioned a pretty sweet axe out of cardboard and foam so Caren can chop some logs onstage. Gus is hard at work on the Saltamontes’ violin, Libby is off doing something electronic that I couldn’t understand no matter how hard I tried, and Quinn and Rigs went to buy delicious treats for the post-performance art show reception.

I’ve been feeling pretty demoralized all week – you can only try to animate completely disinterested children so many times before you crack – but I’m actually really excited to see what the kids do today. I’m really hoping that the thrill of having an audience there will excite them enough to see that theater can actually be kind of a thrill, not as torturously boring as some of them think. And even though I’m certain some of them will never act again (I know this because one girl informed Quinn, “I will never act again”), I hope that some of them will jump at the chance to do something creative if the opportunity presents itself in their futures. I’m so happy that Yuli, Marili, Brenda, Heidy, and even Laura and Caren when they stop glowering at us long enough to take a stab at acting, have enjoyed themselves. That’s all I wanted in the beginning, anyway. We just have to step back now and let the kids do what we’ve seen them do. The most comforting thing was talking to Marili, Brenda and Yuli yesterday and hearing that they all think it’s going to go well, and they’re excited. If they’re that positive, I suppose I can retire my raging cynicism (if only for a couple of hours) and trust it’s going to turn out well, too. And as for the ones who can’t stand acting, who whine every time we rally the kids to rehearse a scene, who stare at us blankly when we compliment them and tell them that they’ve gotten so much better (which is true), I just hope that they don’t resent us. Hopefully we’ll feed them enough cake that shear amount of sugar will mollify any lingering hatred and all they’ll remember is a food-coma and the applause that preceded it.

IT’S HERE

And my laptop is dead.  The one with the slot for a P2 Card.  What that means is, when the cards with the high quality HD video on them are full, the only way to clear them will be to plug the camera directly into the computer.  So that’s 30 minutes of video we can capture straight, before losing the camera for another 30 minutes.  Luckily, Quinn’s parents are generous, and we have his graduation gift of a mini “Webbie” to use.

Also, I still have this happy face smiling stupidly from the back of my head.  Got to get that off before the swanky premier.

I’m not going to miss the kids yet, as we still have plenty of interviews to get next week.  Though I will miss them later, but I won’t worry about that until a bit later.

Check out the website (where they do accept donations.)

http://www.orfamaz.pacificpearl.com/

The END OF DAYS

It is the DAY OF JUDGMENT.

Rodrigo, Julia, Gus, Libby and I are rushing about doing last minute prep. We have to make a couple props out of cardboard (a violin and an axe), deliver some scenery stuff to the Orfanatorio, buy some cranberry juice, cookies and a cake, and get all gussied up for the big moment. It starts at 4pm, and we have about an hour and a half with the kids before hand. Hoping to calm them down, maybe talk about blocking stuff, and have a little fun. Give ‘em some compliments. Who knows? Looks like we’ll have about 15 people there today– Rodrigo’s family, some supporters/staff of the Orfanatorio, and some local theatre people. I’m excited, and not too nervous– after all, there’s not a whole lot more we can do now. Stay tuned to find out if we survive with all our limbs.

The Last Class

Kevin. Looking Good.

Well, today was our last class. We wanted to run it a bit more formally than normal, so we had everyone circle up and then talked to them all about the next day. We told them it was okay if they didn’t have their lines memorized, that they could use their scripts, and that we’re having an audience of around 15 or so people. They thought we were having like 3 people. Not sure why they thought that. Some girls were excited, some were not.

After that we played some games to psyche people up, and then went straight into scene work. All we wanted to do today was get through each scene once, and run it with the little kids being the extra parts (sharks, seagulls, Cloud Men). Per usual, the moment we actually started scene work, everything fell apart. We wanted to do a run with props and costumes, so we had the girls go get changed into their costumes. Big mistake. They took the dresses, bug costumes and all that back into their rooms and then proceeded to put the costumes on the wrong people, slam the doors anytime we tried to hurry them up, and we couldn’t go inside because we’re not allowed in their rooms AND they were changing. Supposedly.

Sometimes I forget that we are trying to run a program in their Home. I think if we had ended up working in the Bosque de la Ciudad (the public park we were supposed to perform in) things would have been a lot easier for us. Anytime the kids don’t like something, they can run off and hide in their rooms and we can’t do a thing about it besides telling Rafaela. Which doesn’t make us look very authoritative to the kids.

Anyway, after about 20 minutes wasted putting on costumes and finding scripts, we started scene one. We told them that it didn’t have to be painful and that all they had to do was read it with energy and we would move on and get through the play. If we did these things painlessly we could play afterwards. We didn’t play afterwards. Scene One took 15 minutes (it’s barely 2 pages) and Scene Two completely fell apart. I spent most of the time saying “Otra vez, por favor” (again, please) to which the girls would whine and throw their scripts down. I know it’s hard for moody pubescent children to understand, but it could be so easy. Appease the stupid teachers and get on with it. The worst part is seeing Heidy, Yuliana, Marili, and Brenda suffer because of the stubbornness of Kareli and Caren. Heidy started crying because she was so mad at the other girls for not cooperating. Marili laid face down and became part of the problem.

We sat down with everyone and asked what was up. Then, get this, everyone started talking about what was up! Holy crap! There wasn’t whining! I talked to Kareli for a bit and she explained that she was nervous and felt unprepared for people to come see it tomorrow. She was worried about embarrassing herself. I told her she had nothing to worry about. This whole thing is just about having fun, and I told her that if she went into it not caring about what people thought but just decided to have fun (which I’ve actually seen her do, once or twice) it would be fun not only for her, but for the people watching as well. She seemed to feel a little more at ease but was still being stubborn and subsequently disappeared.

We started rehearsing with just the girls that wanted to– Heidy, Yuliana, Marili, Brenda. Rodrigo and I played the centipede and Jaime. And it was great. So that’s reassuring. Now all we have to do is hope that the stubborn girls don’t throw a tantrum right before the show or something.

Today ended on a somewhat victorious note. Diana (the sweet, motherly Orfanatorio staff member) arrived before we left. Usually Rafaela is the only one around during our class. When Diana came and saw that like half of the kids were sulking in their rooms, she started kicking ass and drove everyone out of their bedrooms and onto the stage. Then we ran the scenes we wanted to run with the kids in full costumes. And there was energy! Terrified energy, but hey, come on. At this point we’ll take anything we can get.

Julia: Queen of the Cloud Women

Apparently Diana was totally appalled that the kids have been so chaotic this past week. I’m a little fascinated that Rafaela was fully aware of the way the kids have been and didn’t try to help out. Of course us teachers are a little humiliated that Diana had to step in, but frankly I don’t have a whole lot of shame left. And the sweet taste of Justice was very refreshing.

Tomorrow is the day of Truth.

Two Days, No Big Deal

Somehow today managed to be somewhat non-descript despite being two days before our final showing. Today was the day that the older girls were supposed to go off on a boat trip for most of the day, but when we arrived we found out that “the older girls” actually meant everyone except for Tino, Kevin, Jessica and Marili. So there wasn’t a whole lot to do. The girls left at 11 for their trip, so that meant we only had about an hour as soon as we got there before a complete meltdown. And SOMEHOW we managed to do a once-through of scene three, which is one of the longer scenes. It went pretty well. Today we also made shark fins and sea gull beaks for the little kids and fitted them in their Cloud Men outfits. Basically, they just wear cardboard cut outs of clouds. To be fair, the Cloud Men only have like one line.

I don’t think Kevin and Tino really know how sharks work. We told them to act like sharks and instead of biting us and swimming around with their fins on their head, they just ran up to us and hit us repeatedly with the fins. We convinced them that’s not how sharks work, but they preferred doing this anyway.

That boat looks good. Almost as good as Rodrigo.

We also picked up our sweet new set pieces from this nearby painting workshop for kids. The teacher working there painted a sweet house for Jaime to be in at the opening, and one of his students painted this awesome ship. Da-a-amn.

Also, I’m making a separate tab for the Dossier, rather than interrupt the daily posts. Also also, I’d like to apologize for providing individual profiles for the kids so embarrassingly late. My bad.

The Life Dramatic with Rodrigo Muñoz

But Replace Eddie Murphy with Bill Murray

If Daddy Day Care was directed by Wes Anderson, it would probably look a lot like today’s class. The opening shot would be a close up on the expressionless faces of Rodrigo, Julia and I in front of the brightly colored Orfanatorio. As the camera pans out you would see total chaos: children climbing on our backs, pulling our hair, screaming (silently), tearing their scripts to pieces, punching each other, tying us up with the jump rope, and lighting fires. Our faces would continue staring into the half-distance, completely dissociated from reality. Then Mariachi music would begin to play, and the words The Mexperience would appear on the right side of the screen. Owen Wilson would do the voice-overs during the introduction.

Of course, this chaotic scene only happens when we try to run the play. Much like Mexico’s current drug war, blood is shed when the authorities try to interfere with this ‘real good thing’ that the thugs got going on. But instead of drug trafficking, I’m talking about, say, jumprope.

And yet, as the Mariachi music swelled and the kids went bat shit crazy, I had a comforting thought: we’re not doing Death of a Salesman here. There’s not much psychology to explore with these characters– no in depth character work or anything like that. All that’s really required is energy. And the kids have that. But only when they want to. We’ve seen them give great performances. When they want to. And I know that when they have an audience (not counting us) they want to perform well. So I’m actually not that worried. And besides, this is more like a workshopped staged reading than anything else. There’s really not much to worry about. It will go how it goes. Obviously we will continue to work scenes for the two days of class we have left, but I think we will focus more on blocking and stage business than on trying to wring performances and energy out of them when they refuse to give it. It’s less painful for everyone involved that way.

Tonight, we drink rum milkshakes on the beach!