September 27, 2008: Theatre People

Dear Friend,

I’ve tried a number of times to define for others a working definition of the term “theatre people.” I can neither remember exactly when I came to know the term, nor even how I knew exactly what it meant whenever I heard it. It’s something innate, I’m assuming, something each of us feels on some level. Yet, according to some, simply being involved with theatre doesn’t seem to categorize you as a theatre person. There must be a rites of passage, an almost unofficial christening that takes place and then you are noted as a theatre person. I know at Northwestern many declare the major and then consider themselves theatre persons. However, there are many non-theatre majors in the department who are certainly theatre persons. There must be something else that defines you a theatre person. I’ll explain in a bit.

Last night, Iris’ mother decided a visit to the market was needed now that she had an addition to the family, so to speak. So, Iris and I took on the challenge of buying groceries. In an attempt to be green, we brought our own plastic bags. We trammed and bussed our way to where the market was located. If I had ever thought I was through with information overload, I was certainly fooling myself.

The market in Bucureşti Iris took me to is half an open air market and half indoors. Unlike a grocery store, where you grab a cart and shop amongst a plethora of options, you have to compare prices between stores. One store selling poultry will have a higher price than another shop down the block selling the same kind of poultry. It’s easy to say that half of our time spent grocery shopping was bouncing from store to store comparing prices. In Orange City or even Friesland, Wisconsin this would be considered unnecessary Dutch frugality. However, here in Romania it’s a necessity. I’ve already been told a number of times the economy doesn’t help anyone’s income, so trying to get more bang for your buck is close to impossible.

It took a couple of hours to get everything that we needed. This whole time I kind of operated on glazed-eyes autopilot, making sure I kept up with Iris in the sea of shoppers. Here and there we bumped into some street sellers, essentially beggars begging you to buy their items. I’ve been told many of these people work for someone higher up who makes millions upon millions working people such as these. There have been reports on such systems, so none of it is simple yarn spinning. Many of the items being sold by these people are also stolen items. A further testimony to how corruption remains.

We finally returned home, and after putting away the groceries I settled down for a nap. Tonight I would be attending my first Romanian play with many of the volunteers from A.R.T. Fusion, so I wanted to rest up for a night out on the town. It didn’t really work, the resting up. My alarm clock the bird had a malfunctioning snooze button, and not even Hayley Westenra on my headphones could get me to sleep. I lay for about two hours in my horizontal position before it was time to get ready.

Vali and his girlfriend, Cristina, drove me to meet the others at the theatre. The performance was free and the space looked like an auditorium used for community theatre shows. The performance was very community theatre, but nonetheless enjoyable. Valy and Luisa, a newly introduced A.R.T. Fusion member, translated a little bit for me, so I understood the basics.

After the performance we went to a pub called Big Mamou. It was sporting Western décor and displayed a lot of posters of jazz and blues singers from the States. An underground Romanian rock band was setting up on the stage, and tickets were fifteen lei if we wanted to stick around. Being volunteer forum theatre performers, none of us had the money.

So, I was sitting with eight of my new friends. Vali, his girlfriend Cristina, Alina, Ana, her boyfriend Adi, and the newly introduced Luisa, Tudor, and Eugen, all sitting at two or three little round tables put together and enjoying each other’s company. Eugen and Tudor seemed to be very vocal about how they were in fact not theatre people, they only performed in forum theatre. This was not meant as an insult to theatre people. Instead, it was meant as a “class distinction,” if you will. They believed they had not earned the right to be considered theatre people. However, they all behaved like theatre people I knew, and not simply because they were a group of friends having a good time. They each had their own theatre person stock characteristics, so to speak. I can’t begin to explain each of them, but they were theatre people. They couldn’t even make decisions collectively the way theatre people can’t make decisions collectively. It was almost as if some of the people I knew back home had been transplanted in Romania.

It’s quite possible I’m drawing similarities simply to latch onto what I find familiar. I’ll admit that hanging out with these new colleagues made me feel more comfortable than I’ve felt since being in the city. They were generous and kind and altogether wacky and funny. I could tell, however, why they felt they didn’t deserve the title. None of them, except Vali, studied theatre, and he’s a gamer trying to become an Orthodox priest. Yet, they all have a love of theatre. You’d think that would be enough.

I mentioned in an earlier blog that the greatest distinction between theatre people and non-theatre people is that theatre people simply amplify the characteristics and nuances every person already has hidden inside of them. Maybe that’s all it takes to be a theatre person. Or maybe there is no distinction. Maybe the distinction is some perceptual screen through which we each categorize each other. It’s easy for me to be labeled a theatre person because I’m a theatre major and spend most of my time in the theatre building. Therefore, anything I say or do is bound to be seen at some point through the perceptual screen of “theatre person.” It makes me wonder how else we use our perceptual screens and what decisions we come to make by using them.

I got to bed at a decent time tonight. Vali dropped me off and went home with Cristina. I spoke a little with Iris before going to bed. Her mother was already sleeping. Tomorrow I’m going with Vali to an Orthodox service, so plenty of good sleep is needed. Both my alarm clocks are silent right now, so I’ll be able to sleep in peace.

Blessings.
Kailen