Scene Four

They are interrupted by the SOCIAL WORKER who enters with CRISTINA and ISABEL.

SOCIAL WORKER:

Ici we are. (seeing FAT JORGE and FLACA) Oh! You two are still up! Excellent. Ici our new refugees! Do you know them? Amigos?

CRISTINA:

Where are we?

FAT JORGE:

In Canada.

FLACA:

Vancouver.

JOSELITO  and MANUELITA descend the stairs.

MANUELITA:

What’s your name?

The SOCIAL WORKER starts to ring the bell on the reception desk.

CRISTINA:

Cristina. I thought they were sending me to Toronto. (to ISABEL) Did you think you were going to Toronto?

ISABEL shrugs her shoulders.

CRISTINA:

Her name’s Isabel.

The RECEPTIONIST enters.

SOCIAL WORKER:

These are our next batch.

RECEPTIONIST:

(handing the SOCIAL WORKER two separate keys, then referring to CRISTINA) Love the poncho. Hand-woven alpaca.

He leaves.

SOCIAL WORKER:

(to FAT JORGE and FLACA) Moi feliz tu are here. Tu make it mucho easier for the new arrivals to see some compatriots ici—

FAT JORGE:

(nodding) Jes jes.

CRISTINA:

What did she say?

FAT JORGE:

I have no clue. Just say jes jes to anything she says. It’s called minding your manners. (to  CRISTINA) Are you from Santiago?

CRISTINA:

No. I’m from the south. Mapuche. She’s from Iquique. We just met on the plane.

FAT JORGE:

(to ISABEL) You don’t talk, comrade?

ISABEL shakes her head no.

FLACA:

I see.

FAT JORGE:

Well, comrade, silence is underrated. You keep your words to yourself all you want. We’ll call you Calladita: Little Silent One.

SOCIAL WORKER:

Well, ici are the keys to your rooms. Your new casa. For el momento.

FAT JORGE:

Kids, let’s help your aunties to their rooms! Just ’cause we’re here doesn’t mean you have to lose respect for your elders! Come on, let’s go!

MANUELITA:

Aunt Calladita, can I hold your hand?

ISABEL nods. FAT JORGE and the kids take the women up to their rooms.

SOCIAL WORKER:

Well! Moi so feliz this worked out!

FLACA:

Jes jes.

SOCIAL WORKER:

Je ne sais pas if this means anything to you, my family and moi arrived from Hungary, in 1956. We’re Jews—uh, not Cristianos (crossing herself)—

FLACA:

Ahhh! Cristiana!

SOCIAL WORKER:

No. No. NOT Cristianos. Jews. Anyway. And it meant a lot to have fellow Jews waiting for us when we landed—

FLACA hugs the SOCIAL WORKER.