Little Theater in Mexico's Chapala Lakeside
For two of the last three plays, "Ladies Night Out" and "Steel Magnolias" I worked backstage. I've held season tickets each year for our not-so-little theater and been delighted time after time by the fine performances, incredible sets and unflinching commitment of the many volunteers who make our theater season possible.
I was first called upon to help with costume changes backstage. That was fun because "Ladies Night Out" had many changes and a lot of activity on-stage. The time flew. I'd heard for years that the volunteer group was very cliquish. I figured that must be so, because I'd volunteered for several years without being called. However, I was pleasantly surprised. There were no prima donnas and everyone, from the director to the props people were courteous and more "thank you's" flowed backstage than you could imagine. Everyone appreciated even the smallest gesture.
There were enough volunteers that none of us, except for the costume director, had to show up every night. We began working the night of dress rehearsal, my only opportunity to see the director in action. What I didn't know until then is that the director hands over the reins to the stage manager the first night of production. I guess there's a lot I don't know about theater, lighting, sound and stage management. I'd like to learn more, though.
Our theater shares grounds with the Oak Hill School, a secondary school for both American and Mexican children. We had a guest actor from San Miguel participate in "South Pacific" and he was envious of the quality of our theater. The community financially supports the theater and just last year we raised enough money to open a rehearsal hall.
Mind you, we have a lot of talent here. Professional set designers, ex-producers, actors, directors as well as a lot of raw talent from folks who've never before participated in live theater. We have very few younger actors, so the plays need to be chosen with a certain amount of care, finding roles suitable for this over-forty crowd!
During the final play of the season, I volunteered to help with props. The props director had never had that job before, and together, with help from the cast and crew, we accumulated scores of beauty salon supplies, Christmas decorations and a myriad of other items. It interested me that we dealt more with illusion than with reality. I also learned what happened when a prop doesn't make it into its assigned place between scene changes. Fortunately, the actors acted quickly to cover up our faux-pas.
When I walked into the props and costumes room downstairs for the first time, you could have knocked me over with a feather. I was awe-struck with racks and racks of clothes, boxes of wigs, shelves of shoes and other paraphernalia. It felt like I was part of a much larger production. Then I saw the room where the sets are made. Huge! Tools and tables and paints and fabric and glue-whatever is necessary to magically transform our theater into a South Pacific Island and then into an elegant beauty salon. I watched people I knew paint backdrops, which looked as professional as any I'd seen in theaters back home. People's hidden talents never cease to amaze me.
My mom and step-dad visited me during the first two weeks of April. One night I took them to the theater. Mom was surprised when she saw some of the things she had given me over the years on stage as props. When I moved down, I took very little, but among the 30 boxes were six boxes of Christmas decorations. I just couldn't give them up. So, during the Christmas scene, I was able once again show off some of her handicrafts.
On closing night, we partied. After eight sequential performances, everyone was exhausted and we'd all made new friends.
Everything But the Apple
Yesterday afternoon at the Little Theater, there was a party to thank all the volunteers of the season — both cast and crew. The theme was Hawaiian. Unfortunately I hadn't heard that part, but I did have a blouse decorated with some shells, so that plus the leis we were adorned with as we entered the room, sufficed. About forty minutes into the party, an appreciative silence descended over the group as a large, full-size roasted pig was carried into the room on the shoulders of four men.
Catered by a local restaurant, Manix, the pig, without apple, was carved and served with a tropical fruit salad, confetti rice dish, and chicken livers wrapped in bacon. What a feast. I couldn't look at the pig as the server carved my portion out of the tenderloin, and I apologize to you vegetarians reading this, but it was delicious. Pork and chicken are wonderful here in Mexico. I no longer order beef except in a few restaurants that import their beef from the U.S. I've had too many tough, disappointing meals in the past. And red meat is rapidly disappearing from my diet. According to my doctor, I have the bones of a 34-year old, but my cholesterol needs constant attention.
At one of our family reunions of about 60 people in Montana, we did cook a pig underground and it was a hoot watching the children watching the pig being carved and served.
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