Peter Gould and Stephen Stearns’ A Peasant of El Salvador is a riveting comic drama set during El Salvador’s civil unrest in the Seventies. Originally conceived as a two-man drama, it puts a face and voice to a brutal period of history that leads to tens of thousands of deaths and which, in a sense, was never truly resolved.
That face, is Hesus, a poor but proud farmer, living with his wife and children in a village in this Central American country. His one proud possession is a plot of land on a hillside riddled with rocks. As the civil rest unfolds, he slowly loses everything he holds dear – to malnutrition, rape, torture, murder and more. Based on historical fact, this play transcends time and showcases a sleepy little village and an unassuming man destroyed by government apathy.
Quasar Thakore Padamsee’s adaptation hits closer home. Ushered into a theatre space playing gentle Spanish music, the actors begin by reading out Salvadoran poet Roque Garcia’s works. They’re eager to emphasise that this is a story, not a play. And a story it was, as the three of them took turns to paint the picture of a countryside and the character of a man that would rivet the audience for the next 70 minutes.
A trilingual in Spanish, Hindi and English, A Peasant of El Salvador begins with a filmi disclaimer establishing its fictionality and discounting any resemblance to a real-world context.
Perhaps that’s the truth; because the production is one with universal relevance – it can’t be specific to one context because it can be applied just as easily to 21st Century India as to ‘70s and ‘80s El Salvador. It’s one of the most politically moving plays out there, taking you from the comfortable confines of the theatre to behind the nameless and faceless façade of war.
The three actors keep the tempo up throughout the production, against a backdrop of a minimal set and prop – just a wooden cross and a few crates for company. They switch roles, finish each others’ sentences, interact with the audience, sing Spanish songs and play multiple characters at the drop of a hat. The lighting design was simple but striking, playing up shadows and spotlights to great dramatic effect. By introducing Hindi, Padamsee makes the play, nay story, that much more accessible. And surprisingly, it works well.
There are parts that lag, like the interaction between old friends Manuel and Hesus as the former returns to town. These however, are few and far apart. Overall, Padamsee does a remarkable job of tugging at consciences alongside providing entertainment. This is one play that everybody should catch next time it’s in town – it makes you question official propaganda; whether the price we pay for economic development is agrarian sanctity and if it’s worth it.
Everyone was Hesus in the play, just like any of us could be Hesus in real life. Unfortunately, we tend to assume that Hesus is always someone else.
