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The translation of Mine Water was one of four works developed during hotINK at The Lark 2015.
Synopsis
The story takes place in an imaginary mine region in Transylvania. The mine has closed and the village people struggle with poverty and despair, and often fall asleep at church. Characters are consumed by desires and dreams. A tragi-comic tale with witty linguistic humor and a not-so-exotic theme: how can we go on if we lose resources and traditions?
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Characters
IGNÁC (pronounced: ignatz) – Catholic priest
MÁRTON – Church caretaker, Ignác’s adopted son, 25-26
ISTVÁN (pronounced: ishtvan) – Village schoolmaster
IMOLA – his daughter
IRÉN – the priest’s housekeeper
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Living room of a Catholic priest’s house in a small Transylvanian village, with no phone signal and internet. The present. The walls are covered by crosses and icons. In the room there’s a lectern, covered with black velvet. On it there is a bottle of homemade palinka (very strong homemade alcoholic beverage usually made of plums).
(Father Ignác standing behind the lectern.)
IGNÁC
(loudly) Grace to you and peace from our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ. Brothers and Sisters let us examine our conscience and repent for our sins to worthily celebrate the sacred mysteries of the Lord! (pause) I confess to the almighty God and to you my brothers and sisters that I have sinned… (stressing the ‘s’ sounds) Sinned exceedingly… s…s… (quietly) Six stick shifts stuck shut. … (loudly) Sssssinned exxxxceedingly
(Enter Irén, a middle-aged housekeeper, carrying a pouch and an open letter.)
IRÉN
Here I am, Father.
IGNÁC
(notices her, goes on) greatly sinned in my thoughts and in my words, in what I have done and in what I have failed to do… (quietly) thought… th, th, th… Thatcher had a thin thing in her thong. Not these things here, but those things there. (loudly) Through my fault…
…through my fault, I can damn well see that you’re here, Irén, I’m not blind. Through my most grievous fault. Therefore I beseech…
IRÉN
Here I am, Father.
IRÉN
Is Márton home yet?
IGNÁC
Nope.
IRÉN
When does he come?
IGNÁC
Don’t know. Tttherrrreforrre I besssseech…
IRÉN
I’ve bought all kinds of things for lunch. I’m going to cook goulash today.
IGNÁC
Therefore I beseech blessed Mary…
IRÉN
Goulash with onions.
IGNÁC
…blessed Mary with onions…. Irén! What the rabbit-fucking dog’s ass do you think I’m doing?
IRÉN
Cursing?
IGNÁC
Doesn’t it rather look like I’m trying to rehearse the mass?
IRÉN
(offended) All right, Father, go on with that rehearsing, I’m not going to disturb you. I just wanted to tell you that… (raises the letter, then lets it down) But why are you rehearsing, Father? Have you forgotten the text, or why are you rehearsing?
IGNÁC
No, Irén, I have not forgotten the text. Forgetting everything is some other person’s habit in this house. My (over-enunciating) diction needs some improvement, that’s why I’m rehearsing. If I pronounce the words clearly, people will pay more attention to my and the Lords’ words.
IRÉN
The problem is not your dickshine, Father, if you ask me.
IGNÁC
Sorry?
IRÉN
I don’t think that your dickshine is the reason everybody falls asleep at mass.
IGNÁC
What? What makes you say that “everybody falls asleep at mass?” It’s not true!
IRÉN
All right, not everybody. Just the old ones. Not everybody. And sometimes the choir, too.
IGNÁC
They get tired. That’s how old people are. But the young parishioners don’t sleep!
IRÉN
True, they don’t.
IGNÁC
See?
IRÉN
I haven’t seen any young parishioners at the church for fifteen years, though.
IGNÁC
Don’t you rather want to cook your bloody goulash now?
IRÉN
Of course I want to. I just…. (raises the letter again, then lets it down and walks towards the kitchen)
IGNÁC
Wait a second, Irén! If the problem is not my diction…then what do you think the problem is, in your opinion?
IRÉN
If you ask me, the problem is that you have no more whats-it in you. Passion. That’s what you have lost.
IGNÁC
Passion?
IRÉN
That’s right. No passion twinkling inside you anymore.
IGNÁC
That’s not true. The passion is twinkling quite well inside me.
IRÉN
If you say so, Father, then it’s twinkling. If you say so.
IGNÁC
Last time it was twinkling so well that…how many people were crying? All the old women burst into tears when they heard my words.
IRÉN
When was this exactly?
IGNÁC
About two weeks ago.
IRÉN
Two weeks ago?
IGNÁC
Yes. When I announced that the government would cut their pensions in half.
IRÉN
All right, all the old women were crying, probably, all right.
IGNÁC
See?
IRÉN
Is Márton home yet?
IGNÁC
No he isn’t, told you already.
IRÉN
I could use a helping hand with the onions…. Where is he?
IGNÁC
I don’t know. (drinks a shot of palinka)
IRÉN
How is that possible, Father? It’s your adopted son we’re talking about. How can you not know?
IGNÁC
He mentioned something about maybe going to the next village.
IRÉN
To the next village? Travelled boy, this Márton.
IGNÁC
Yes.
IRÉN
And what does he do there, in the next village?
IGNÁC
The priest there is selling clothes for the people who remained without shelter after the floods. Márton said he’d like to buy some pants if I gave him money.
IRÉN
Have you?
IGNÁC
No.
IRÉN
Speaking of travelled people… (smiling) I’ve met the postman, Father. My little girl, Irénke, sent me a letter. (raises the letter)
IGNÁC
(sighs) You don’t say.
IRÉN
That’s right. She says she’s coming home from America, she says.
IGNÁC
And when would that be?
IRÉN
She didn’t say. But she’s coming soon, that’s for sure. Let’s hope she’ll be home for Christmas.
IGNÁC
Let’s hope. (drinks another shot of palinka)
IRÉN
(looking at the glass) Did you know, Father, that people don’t drink there, in America?
IGNÁC
Really?
IRÉN
That’s right. My daughter told me in her letter. Nobody.
IGNÁC
Miserable people.
IRÉN
Did you know, Father, that in America a housekeeper like myself earns one million dollars a month?
IGNÁC
Your daughter told you that, too?
IRÉN
Yes.
IGNÁC
Didn’t she tell you something about the cooking of the bloody goulash?
IRÉN
No, she didn’t.
IGNÁC
That’s a pity. I think that’s what she should have written about. I wonder if goulashes get to cook themselves in America.
IRÉN
Anything is possible in America.
IGNÁC
May the Lord’s bloody lightning strike right into this house, Irén! Would you fucking mind letting me rehearse?!
IRÉN
Jesus, Father, don’t say things like that! I won’t bother you anymore, just don’t say that!
IGNÁC
All right then, may it strike the neighbor’s house. Just go!
Irén walks out through the kitchen door.
Silence.
(loudly) Therefore I… hm, with passion…. (more loudly) Therefore I beseech blessed Mary ever Virgin….
(Enter Márton running.)
MÁRTON
The teacher’s house is on fire!!!
IGNÁC
What?
MÁRTON
(points at the window) Don’t you see? The teacher’s house is on fire!
Irén comes out of the kitchen.
IGNÁC
Quickly, son, pull the bells!
IRÉN
Lord have mercy!
(They hurry out. Noise, shouting from outside, the light of flames can be seen through the window.)
(Blackout)