Daily News and the Palace of Time

And now, dear readers, I must tell you about “Daily News” a.k.a. The Bane of My Existence for the Past Month. Basically, “Daily News” is a comedic play written in English. However, whether “Daily News” can be qualified as a play, a comedy, or written in English are all up for debate. I would say it’s none of the above.

I was introduced to this masterpiece [of idiocy and poor grammar] soon after I arrived at my school in October. At first I was excited, hearing that I would be going to a play in Jerez with the sixth-graders AND the play would be in English! However, as soon as we started explaining the plot and reading through it, I realized that the play, in a word, sucks. The following week, to my dismay, I found out the fifth-graders were going, too, so I would have to work on the play in THOSE classes as well. Just last week, as the fifth-grade teacher and I were listening to the last few scenes on the CD, she turned to me.

“This is really bad, isn’t it?” She said, shaking her head.
“Yes…it’s pretty awful. They obviously didn’t use a native speaker as an advisor.”
“And such a shame, considering how many plays they could have chosen.”
“Yeah…” (inside my head: OH MY GOD, OBVIOUSLY, AHHHHHH, I KNOW).
“Well, that’s the Spanish way. They just wrote it themselves and it turned out terribly.”

Needless to say, I wasn’t too keen on going. The other day during lunch-break, however, I was talking to the principal about it. “Well,” she said, “You could go with the sixth-graders; they’re going to the Alcazar of Jerez afterward.” My eyes lit up. “Or,” she continued, “You could go with the fifth-graders. They’re going to a…how do you say…a museum. With clocks. There are a lot of clocks! Some old…some new.” I think she could see how fast my smile faded. “Maybe you would like the Alcazar better,” she said, and I nodded with relief.

Even with the prospect of seeing another alcazar (the word for fortress; though some are more famous, like the Alcazar of Sevilla, they are prevalent throughout Andalucia), I still was a little apprehensive about the horror of sitting through “Daily News.” At least, I reminded myself, after today I would never have to hear about it again.

After a bus ride to Jerez filled with excitement (which I gauged by the amount of screaming and picture taking done by the kids), we got to the theater, which was really just a school hosting the play for several bilingual classes. We got seated and the lights went down. There was so much screaming that they waited a few extra minutes for the students to calm down before starting the play; when they realized the kids wouldn’t stop screaming, they just started the play anyway. An unexpected dance routine opened the act, which made me hopeful. Then a sign was brought out, reading “Daily New,” and I lost hope. Retrospectively, I think there was once an ‘s’ on that sign, but it fell or broke off, and they figured the Spanish schoolchildren wouldn’t know or care about the difference.

As the play went along, I found myself actually entertained. This was a mixture of enjoying random songs, dances, and fight scenes that the actors added (definitely not in the entertainment-is-low-on-my-priority-list script) and just witnessing the general ridiculousness of the play live. Permit me to give you the briefest of summaries: there are 4 characters who work at a news station. The boss, Alfie, is in love with Chloe and thus has given her the job of chief news presenter, thereby taking the job away from Rupert (described as a “talented immigrant”), who is jealous. Chaos and comedy ensue! Oh, and the fourth character? An amorphous assistant named Jack, so amorphous that the director of today’s version changed this character to Jacqueline without having to make any further changes to the play.

Afterward, the kids asked me who my favorite character was and I said Chloe, mainly because the actress was the only native English speaker (in a play where the characters all criticize Rupert for his “terrible English”—pot kettle black?) and thus she was the most natural with the dialogue. The kids all agreed and one little boy told me he was in love with her, which was unsurprising given that the actress was tall, blonde, and very pretty (a moment of vanity: one of the girls said I looked like her. I definitely do not, but maybe to a young, undiscerning Spanish girl, all American blondes look the same). Also, the actress wore a very tight dress with slits up the side and pranced around in very high heels (and—could it get any campier?—at one point she walked slo-mo across the stage with a fan blowing her hair back…and then she did it again). Consequences: At least one eleven-year-old fell in love; several Spanish teachers deemed the play “inappropriate.”

We walked through the streets of Jerez to the Alcazar, a 12th century fortress built by the ruling Muslims of the day. We saw the Mezquita (the chapel), the gardens, the Arab baths. It was a fine Alcazar, but I guess I’ve just become an Alcazar snob. After visiting the one in Sevilla, anyone would be. There was one cool part, though. The guide brought us to the front entrance of the fortress, which was, as expected, a ginormous arched opening where once a huge wooden door hung. BUT, that wasn’t the door to the exterior. No. A fairly narrow winding corridor led to the outside door. Would-be conquerors would first have to get through that door; if they used a battering ram it would run into stone just a few feet beyond the opening, and if they tried to charge in on horses afterward, the horses would be similarly smashed against stone. Defenders had plenty of opportunities to pour boiling liquids, rocks, or arrows on their heads once they were in the corridor. Also, the entire fortress and city of Jerez was surrounded by a high wall made out of local rock. This being fairly arid land, the wall blended in to its environment well, and most conquering armies wouldn’t have realized a city was there until the defenders were already well aware of their presence (and firing arrows). Thus, the Alcazar was a stronghold for many centuries.

Even for an Alcazar snob like me, I was impressed by the history we were surrounded by. I thought of those poor fifth-graders who were surrounded by…clocks. Back on the bus and leaving Jerez, though, a saw a sign for the “Museo de Relojes” (Clock Museum), and in bigger script above that, another title: “El Palacio del Tiempo.” Literal translation: The Palace of Time. Sure of their own mastery, Spaniards write plays in languages they might not fully know, and give the most grandiose of titles of the most banal of places. The truth is, it’s easy to understand why they are so proud, with all the ingenious architecture and beauty that covers the landscape, where the idea behind single door is both revolutionarily brilliant yet utterly simple in construction. If only they weren’t too proud to put on Tennessee Williams plays…