IX. The Prettiest Compañera
A play in several acts with footnotes.
A monologue with many voices.
For the teacher, with love, hoping that
he recovers soon from his stomach ache
(The curtain opens. But it turns out that everything isn’t ready, so they close it again. But they don’t close it completely because the blanket that serves as the curtain gets stuck. They take a long time. Finally, the curtain opens and the play begins. A compa who didn’t really want to participate comes on stage, but what can he do? It’s his turn. )
El compa empieza a hablar:
– “Well, I am going to tell you the part that concerns me. Because the problem was not only that we were a bunch of people who saw the play. In other words, “la seña”, as we also call it here. The case or thing, depending, is that in order to watch and listen you don’t just sit down and that’s it. No. Because the auditorium moved and sometimes you could see from one side, then from another, then from above, then from below. And also sometimes you could look at what the participants were looking at. For example, sometimes you could see what Marijose was looking at, or Veronica Palomitas, or the Monarch or the Captain. In other words, you could watch and listen to all parts of the whole, but from different places. So, it was a relaxation”. (footnote One).
“Well, there were a lot of us because it was a secret. The Captain told Verónica Palomitas that we had to put on a play, but not to tell anyone. And, well, Verónica is the kind of person who, if you tell her it’s a secret, she quickly goes and tells everyone. And then Marijose asked Manuel for permission to put up a sign at the “TaCostilla” taqueria to advertise the play.
“The thing is, word got around and soon everyone knew about the play. And even more so because of the title, because the young Zapatista women organized themselves to attend and critique: whether the prettiest compañera is fat or skinny, tall or short, whether she has a lazy eye, whether she walks hunched over, whether her nagua ( traditional skirt) is so ragged that you can’t even believe it, and so on. I criticized them for doing this, but they replied that they were going to talk badly, yes, but together and in an organized way. The young men, that is, the machitos, had even more reason to do so. Even the party members, because they all wanted to know who the prettiest girl was. Even the older women joined in, because, they said, “she’s sure to be wearing a nagua so short that when she bends over, you can see her throat.” All in all, I think there were more than two dozen of us.
“Some had to sit on the stage, which they saw as if they were drones. Others had to sit right at the bottom, where they could see the soles of the shoes and everything else from below, as if they were little bugs. The rest sat at the sides, around where the story was being presented. And wherever you sit, it moves around everywhere.”
“Well, I’m telling you this so you understand that, although I’m going to tell you the story, I’m really only going to tell you part of it, the part I got to see. If you want to know the whole story, you’ll have to hold a meeting and share it with everyone who attended.”
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**Footnote One. – The place where the play is performed should be like a sphere. In its center or core will be the stage, and the seats for the audience will be all around the sphere surrounding the stage. But the seats move around the entire edge of the theatrical sphere. In other words, there is no fourth wall, no first wall, no second wall, no third wall, no top, no bottom, no sides. Thus, the stage would not be at the center of a two-dimensional circle, but at the center of a multidimensional sphere, adding the temporal dimension to 3D.
So the audience rotates in all dimensions. This allows the scenes to be viewed from all sides, that is, from different and distinct points of view. From the sides, above, below, and simultaneously from the perspective of the performers. It would be like an atom, where the neutrons would be the set design and lighting; the actors would be the protons; and the audience would be like electrons revolving around the nucleus or stage.
Okay, okay, okay. Yes, if this were possible, it would be extremely expensive, but the real problem is that, in order to get an overview of the whole scene, a series of assemblies would be needed, where everyone would say what they saw and thus complete the overview of the others. And even then, you would only have part of the picture, and an infinite number of assemblies would be necessary to get the whole picture from the parts.
Footnote to footnote one. – This theatrical approach will later be known as “The Captain’s Paradox.” Nothing to do with Schrödinger, DC, Marvel, animal torture, or anything like that. Resistance and Rebellion. Fuck Trump and Fuck Netanyahu. Oh, I know, but I couldn’t resist.
Footnote to footnote to footnote One. – As can be seen, the author of this delirium does not miss an opportunity to bring politics into the mix, so to speak. Ignoring the wise precept that art is art and not politics, and that one thing is one thing and another thing is don’t fuck with me. Amen.
-*-
Well, that’s when the captain appears, sitting in his champa (a small rustic construction, generally made of wood or branches, used as a home), scribbling something in his notebook. Then you hear SubMoy calling him on the radio. It’s not that he says, “This is SubMoy,” but I recognized his voice. Then the Captain responds on the radio, “Go ahead.” And SubMoy says, “I’m sending you a colleague who needs your support.” “Okay,” says the Captain.
And then a little boy, about 4 or 5 years old, comes along and says his name is “Chinche.” The boy explains that his name is “Chuy,” but since he’s always getting into trouble, his mom calls him “Pinche Chuy, you spilled the water,” “Pinche Chuy, you got the dry clothes wet,” and so on. But Chuy doesn’t speak well and doesn’t know how to say “pinche,” so he says “Chinche” instead. That’s how he got his name.
And Chinche tells the Captain that he has to find the prettiest girl. The Captain asks him why he wants to know. “Because I’m already looking for a wife,” says Chinche. “But you’re only a 4 or 5-year-old kid,” says the Captain. “It doesn’t matter, I want to find her now so I don’t have to run around later, with gifts and songs and having to bathe and comb my hair, and finding clothes to look handsome, and all that stuff. You can’t even believe it.” “But what are you going to do if she doesn’t love you?” says the Captain. “Well,” says Chinche, “I’ll see about that, I’ll try to convince her with politics . But don’t worry, just do what you’re told and give me your support.” “Okay,” says the Captain, “I’ll let you know what the investigation turns up.” Well, they talk for a while longer, but I’m just giving you the summary. And Chinche leaves.
-*-
Well, then there’s another part. I think they say “another scene,” but it’s in the same place, that is, in the Captain’s champa. He grabs his radio and says, “Martillo, Martillo.” Then you hear the Monarch’s voice saying, “Go ahead, go ahead.” So “Martillo” is the Monarch. Then the Captain says, “Find Comando Palomitas (The “Popcorn Command” is a group of Zapatista kids who begin to appear in the writings of Galeano/Marcos as of September 2021, when the Zapatistas made their “Journey for Life” to Europe) and send them.” “I can’t hear you, repeat, repeat,” says Martillo. The Captain repeats that he should find Palomitas. But it seems that he can’t get a good reception on the Monarch’s radio. “I can’t hear you, repeat, repeat.” And the Captain gets desperate and shouts, “Send Palomitas!” Then Martillo hears him and replies, “Copy, copy, I’m on it.” And after a while, the Monarch arrives carrying a parchment sack full of popcorn. “What’s that?” asks the Captain. “Well, you asked for popcorn. Faustino and Angelina just made it.“ ”I said ‘El Palomitas,’ meaning the popcorn command,” the Captain says, getting angry. And Martillo leaves again, while the Captain stuffs himself with popcorn. Well, Monarca returns with Verónica Palomitas.
Verónica is looking for chamoy candy. The Captain asks her why she came alone. Verónica says that Amado and Chinto are old now and are looking for their wives. Cintia and Chuy sometimes come, but they’re not here right now.
“So how old are they?” “El Amado and El Chinto are already 14 years old, which means they are stale popcorn, and no longer useful.” Well, then the Captain tells her that there is a very important and very secret job that she can’t tell anyone about or publicize.
Verónica, I remember now, is called “Tiendera” in the play, because she’s always in the store. Or “Tamale Crudo” because she makes your stomach hurt. Well, Verónica asks if there’s chamoy at work. “Yes,” replies the Captain. Verónica says, “Well, I’ll go see if it suits me and if I can do it or not.” The Captain scolds her because it’s SubMoy’s order, but Verónica says she’s a girl and that’s why she fights, so that girls can do what they want and boys have to obey. The two of them start arguing, Verónica and the Captain. They take a long time and are just arguing, so I skip that part. Finally, the Captain tells her that they have to find the prettiest girl. Then you can see that there’s a problem, so to speak, because Veronica asks:
But where am I going to look? Well, among all compañeras, replies the Captain. All of them, or just some of them? All of them. Even if they’re from another planet? What other planet? Well, we went to some places that are very different, where it rains water, it rains snow, and we girls have to wrap ourselves up like tamales because of the cold. All of them, I said. Okay, but what do I say to them or what do I do? You take their picture to see if you did your job and to see which one is the prettiest.
I already know who the prettiest girl is. Who? My mom. But who told you that? My dad. That doesn’t count. Why doesn’t it count if my dad is a man and men always say those weird things about whether someone is pretty or not? Well, because your dad has to say that, otherwise your mom gets angry and turns into a gorsodoma, and that’s the end of your dad. She’s the prettiest. No, she’s not. Yes, she is. Come on.
The Captain seems to give up and doesn’t have enough credit to send the script to the website, so he says, “Well, then you’ll have to find the second prettiest one.” “Okay,” says Veronica. “Then I’ll lend you my cell phone and you can take a picture and bring it back to see,” says the Captain, dismissing her. Veronica Palomitas leaves.
-*-
In the next scene, Marijose enters, greeting the audience as if she were disembarking in Vigo, Galicia. Then she says, “Here’s your cell phone, captain.” “What? I gave it to Veronica so she could take pictures.” “Well, Veronica arrived at the taco stand with her popcorn band and ordered five orders of tacos, assorted.” Did she eat 25 tacos? No, she shared them with her gang. And then? Well, when it came time to pay, she didn’t have any money. So she gave me the cell phone and told me to keep it as collateral and that when she had the money, she would comeI back to pay her debt and I would give her the cell phone back. Damn Veronica. So I looked at it and saw that it was your cell phone, and I brought it to you because I think it’s going to take Veronica a while to get paid. Well, no choice, but tell Manuel not to forget my tacos, I’ll pay him later. Ha, says Marijose, so he knows there’s no way the Captain is going to pay, as she leaves, waving and blowing kisses to the audience.
The captain looks at the photos Veronica took of the second prettiest girl in the group, and they are all selfies of Veronica making faces and gestures. The captain thinks about it and realizes that, in Veronica’s mind, she is the second prettiest because she is the daughter of the prettiest girl.
Then Veronica arrives to collect her salary as a member of the Research Commission. The Captain complains that she didn’t do her job. Veronica argues that who says she didn’t do her job when she did. You didn’t. Yes, I did. No. Yes. Look, there’s a photo of the prettiest compañera. She hands over a small stone. But this is a stone. “No, there’s a photo of all the compas from all the planets. Because all the compañeras are the prettiest because they are compañeras, and they are compañeras because they are the prettiest. There’s no one more or less, but exactly the same.” But you can’t see it. You don’t know how to look properly, you have to look inside the stone. So I break the stone? With a hammer? No, you have to look inside, but respect the stone because the stone is not to blame. But there are no photos. There are. How do you know there aren’t any if you haven’t looked? And how am I supposed to look? You take the little stone and put it close to your ear and look there. I’m going to look with my ear? Well, you just don’t get it. That’s how fucking men are, they don’t know how to look. Oh, and I’m warning you that you owe money at the taco place, to Manuel and Marijose, because I have to eat at work, the engine needs gas. But it was tacos, not gas. There are different types of engines. Have them send you the bill. Verónica Palomitas is leaving.
The Captain thinks for a moment. “Well, then we have to change our strategy,” he says, “we have to find the third prettiest girl.”
-*-
El Chinche arrives to see if there is any news about his assignment. The Captain tells him to sit down and hands him a chamoy candy. The Captain is holding the little stone that Verónica gave him. He looks at it and turns it over in his hands. He puts it close to his ear. He continues to turn it around. Chinche has finished the candy and coughs to bring the Captain back to reality.
The Captain sighs and says:
“Well, compa, the first thing you have to do is get a hammer.
Curtain… Curtain… I said “Curtain”… ?
Well, there is no curtain. It was the Captain’s blanket, and he took it with him. And since the curtain doesn’t fall, then, so to speak, everything is visible. And that’s how we know that, in the upcoming Registry of the Meeting of Resistances and Rebellions, there are already 768 attendees and participants from 37 countries (Germany, Argentina, Australia, Belgium, Bolivia, Brazil, Canada, Chile, Cyprus, Colombia, Denmark, Ecuador, Egypt, Slovenia, El Salvador, Spain, United States, Finland,France, Wales, Galicia, Ghana, Great Britain, Greece, Guatemala, Italy, Kurdistan, the Balkans, Morocco, Mexico, Norway, the Basque Country, Panama, Peru, Romania, Switzerland, and Uruguay). And some 252 contributions have been registered.
“Well, compa, the first thing you have to do is get a hammer.”
That, and a short message for Frayba:
All the aggression, harassment, persecution, and attacks by bad governments against those who have made the defense of human rights their vocation and destiny are nothing more than confirmation that they are fulfilling the work they have embraced; and that the victims of Power have, in you, a hope for truth and justice.
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Is that it, curtain call? Did you manage to replace it? … Don’t fuck around, that’s SubMoy’s blanket! Run for your lives!
From the mountains of southeastern Mexico.
Original text published at Enlace Zapatista on July 30, 2025.
Translation by Schools for Chiapas.