Voices on the Waves: Act Two

Scene One

(Barbara awakens from sleep and comes to join the group, where some sort of altercation is occurring.) BARBARA (To Bob): What happened to the guy with the mike?

BOB: Scuffy the Tugboat headed out at dawn, with Donald Duck at the helm.

BARBARA: Good riddance. What’s with Joe?

PETER: He’s haranguing the masses.

BOB: Nobody’s punched him out, so far.

JOE: (Gesturing largely, addressing the group as a whole. ): In conclusion, do you know your problem is? You’re all living in a dream world. Not just these religious nuts, the whole bunch of you. (To Peter.) You’re still building the empire. (In a loud whisper, with heavy sarcasm.) Let you in on a little secret. It’s gone! It’s over! (To Maria Luz.): And you. Seniorita Taco de Naranha de Enchilada y Cervesa. Why do you hold your head so high? What are you but another silly girl waiting for a rich husband?

MARIA LUZ: You would not say that if my father the ambassador were here. My father the ambassador--

JOE: And you’re all like that, you’ve all got some bloody stupid dream to live for. (Almost crying.) What dream have I got? What the hell have I got to live for?

CHANDRA: Peter, that man is drunk!

PETER: Nonsense, where would he get it?

CHANDRA: I don’t know, but look at him!

YVETTE: It is not impossible. I too have brought a little something. I have been saving it, but perhaps now is the time. 

(She pulls out a bottle and passes it to Chandra, who looks rather      surprised, then takes a swig. Bob goes over to Joe and speaks to him quietly.)

BOB : Oh, man, you gotta hang in there. You’re just messed up from being out here so long. There’s bound to be a boat along soon. These little boats go back and forth all the time between Yemen and Somalia. All we have to do is sit tight and not go crazy.

JOE: Sorry. Don’t know what came over me.

YVETTE: We must keep ourselves occupied.

JOE: You mean entertained. (The flask reaches him and he takes a swig.)

(Sound and light effects indicate passage of time as the bottle is passed.)

MARIA LUZ (To Mariko.): I thought when they finished solving the world’s problems they would try to get us home. But now they’re getting drunk!

MARIKO: No, it is not very sensible. And my aunt will be very worried.

MARIA LUZ: Come over here. I want to show you something. (They move         away from the group.)

BOB (To the others.) : Hey, kids, lets put on a show!

LAMONT: (Grabbing the interviewer’s microphone.) Tell me, sir, what did you learn in your 28 years study and practice of Buddhist philosophy?

BOB: (Chants.) Void is form and form is void.

LAMONT, BOB AND JOE: (Singing.) Says Barnacle Bill the Sai-lor. (They fall over laughing.)

PETER: Alright, alright. This is serious business. Got to keep morale up. Everybody got their parts? (Aside, hugely pleased.) We’ve been practicing.

(Peter, Joe, Bob and Lamont sing in harmony.)

It’s a damn tough life full of toil and strife we whalemen undergo And we don’t give a damn when the gale is done how hard the wind did blow Were homeward bound it’s a damn fine sound, of a good ship taut and free. And we don’t give a damn when we drink our rum with the girls of Old Maui

LAMONT: Damn! That’s a fine song. Lot of cussing in it, though.

SINGERS: Rollin’ down to old Maui, me boys, Rollin down to old Maui We’re homeward bound from the Arctic ground Rollin’ down to old Maui

PETER: I feel so much better! 

(He steps to the top of the bow, stands like a ship’s figurehead, and begins to declaim with drunken elegance.)

PETER: If you can keep your head when those about you—are losing theirs and    blaming it on you—if you can trust yourself when others doubt you—but make allowance for their doubting too . . .

BOB: Oh, I get it. This is the pep talk.

YVETTE: What pep talk?

BOB: You know. Every movie has one. “Come on, kid, you can do it. We’ve just gotta get over that last hill. What’re ya, gonna give up now? Are you a man or a mouse?

CHANDRA: Where do women fit into this taxonomy?

BOB: Good question.

PETER: If you can make a pile of all your winnings—and risk it on one hand of pitch and toss—and lose, and start again at your beginnings—and never breathe a word about your loss . . .

BOB: But see? It’s universal. It’s a call to heroism.

BARBARA: Heroism is crap. A bunch of idiots blowing each other’s heads off.

BOB (With drunken helplessness): But don’t you see, it’s not crap. It’s not some guy with a dead face and a big gun. That’s a perverted form, an exploitation. But it means standing up to life, making something of your life.

LAMONT: I knew there was an idealist under all that hair.

CHANDRA: I know what he means. And he’s right, it’s universal. The hero Arjuna refuses to fight, and the whole Bhagavad Gita, one of the greatest books of India, is Krishna’s answer to him.

HABEEB: “For Allah has ordained fighting for you, and you do not like it. But it may be that you dislike a thing and it is good for you. And Allah knows and you know not.”

MARIKO: What is the good of fighting? What does it bring but mutilation and horror?

LAMONT: We’re not talking about physical fighting here. It’s like—

HABEEB: It is like jihad. People now think jihad means killing. No. Jihad is getting up in the morning to support your family when you’d rather go back to sleep.

BOB: Green Peace!

LAMONT: The Civil Rights Movement!

BOB: Earth Firsters dressing up like bears!

(The others look at him nonplussed.)

CHANDRA: Nothing is taboo now, except to say that life has meaning. To say that is embarrassing. You will be laughed at.

JOE:  (Loudly.) Clap your hands if you believe in fairies!

PETER (A triumphant finish.): Then the earth is yours, and everything that’s in      it. And what’s more, you’ll be a man, my son.

BARBARA: Or a woman.

LAMONT: You’ll be a woman, my son? That would change the meaning some!

JOE: Clap your hands if you believe in fairies!

BOB: “And what’s more, you’ll be a woman, my daughter?” It doesn’t scan. Too many syllables.

JOE: (To Lamont.) What would you say if I told you I was gay?

LAMONT: I’d say, shine on, baby, shine on.

JOE: Well, maybe I’m not, but I coulda been for all you know.

(Maria Luz raises a gun and points it at the group. Mariko stands beside her.)

JOE: What’s all this?

MARIA LUZ: Madre de Dios, forgive me. This is what you might call a youth revolution. We are taking over, because none of you have any sense. Half of you only want to pray, and the other half want to get drunk. And all of you talk all the time. We are young, and we want to get out of here.

MARIKO: Excuse me, please. Most of you seem perfectly happy here. But we want to go home to our families. Start rowing, please. East is that way.

YVETTE: We know east is that way. We see the Muslims pray that way five times every day.

BOB: I wasn’t going to mention this, but when you’re in a vehicle, aren’t you supposed to point the way the vehicle is going, instead of toward Mecca?

HABEEB: But this vehicle is not going anywhere.

LAMONT: Amen, brother!

MARIKO AND MARIA LUZ: Row!

YVETTE: With what?

MARIKO: With your hands, please, since that is all we have. We will all help.

JOE: (Dramatically.) Oh, my God, look! It’s a ship! It’s really a ship at last!

(Everyone looks. Moving like lightening, Joe grabs the gun and throws it overboard.)

PETER: What did you do that for, you fool? We could have used that.

BOB: Yeah, we could have shot all the people who go crazy from drinking salt water.

YVETTE: We have plenty of water.

CHANDRA: We could have shot some food!

BOB; Yeah, we could have tied a string to a bullet and shot a fish!

LAMONT; Anybody like a nice, raw seagull?

YVETTE: Me, I will stick to the K-rations. 

MARIA LUZ: You are all mad. A collection of madmen from around the world.

BOB: That’s “madpersons”.

MARIA LUZ: You will sit here talking until we die.

(The Rabbi, the Shaykh, and the Guru enter stage left.)

RABBI: Time for an intervention. They’re ready. In fact, they’re cracking.

SHAYKH: The old man will be the vehicle. It could have been any of our sacred traditions. The Hadith says, “There are as many ways to Allah as there are human souls.” But because the old man is as he is, we will enter through the door of Islam. I will speak with him in his dreams.  Scene Two

PETER: Well, that was an exercise in stupidity.

HAJI: Not necessarily, my friend. 

CHANDRA: There is a story from my country of a guru and his disciple. The disciple begged the guru to give him enlightenment. The guru took him to the river and held his head under the water. When the disciple began thrashing in desperation beneath the water, almost drowning, the guru let him return to the surface. He told him, “When you want enlightenment as badly as you wanted air just now, you will attain it.” 

BARBARA: You’re saying maybe now we’re desperate enough to learn something?

HAJI: It is possible. My children, forget for a moment any idea of physical escape. That is not the issue here, and most of you know it. As far as spiritual escape, mental escape, you have tried every method you know. You have talked and reasoned until you are dizzy with it. You have fought and argued. You have tried to forget yourselves in drink. Now we will try something very new to you, but very old. This is the zikrullah, the Ceremony of Divine Remembrance.

BOB: Do you mean some kind of meditation? I’ve been meditating for years.

HAJI: Then you will be a help to me in carrying these new ones. But this is a little different. Perhaps, too, you are ready to cross a new threshold. 

BARBARA: But what is it? What do we do?

HAJI: We stand in a circle, or sit. We sing the ancient words. We move in rhythm. Our Tradition says the zikr ceremony removes the rust from the mirror of the heart. It also brings dreams—special dreams that cast light upon the path of each life.  LAMONT (To the Haji.): How long you gonna go, ya Abi? I know a shaykh say any zikr less than five hours is just fooling around. But some of these new fish won’t make it through a long one.

HAJI: We will give them a taste, that is all. Inshallah—God willing—it will be enough.  (He brings out some large, thin scarves in bright, pastel colors. The women place them gracefully over their heads or shoulders. The atmosphere becomes ceremonial.)

 HAJI: Madame, will you begin?

CHANDRA: We will say the Gayatri together, three times. You should know it by now, for you have heard me recite it many times over the past few days. Please follow along. This is a powerful mantra, which precipitates change. It is not always safe, but desperate situations call for desperate remedies. And the situation, both on this boat and in the world at large, is becoming desperate.  BOB (To Habeeb.): You can’t say the Gayatri, can you? I mean, it’s a prayer to the sun.

HABEEB: No, my friend, Mrs. Chandra explained it to me. It is a prayer to the Power behind the sun. That Power is Allah, the Hidden Source of all. So there is no problem.

HAJI: We also say al-Haqq, the Divine Ground, the Truth.

CHANDRA: The fundamental Ground of Being. 

HAJI: We Muslims speak of tauheed, Divine Unity.

CHANDRA: And we Hindus talk about advaita, Non-Duality.

PETER: For further reference, see Huxley’s The Perennial Philosophy.

LAMONT: Oh, Peter, you my man! You’ve read everything. Huxley’s a little weak on Muslims, though.  HAJI (To Chandra.) : Sayeeda?

CHANDRA: Om buhr buvaha svaha, tatsavitur vareniyam, bargo devsya dimahi di yo, yo, na prachodayat. Svaha!  (She chants this three times, with the others joining in more softly. The Rabbi, Shaykh, and Guru appear on the upper platform.)

HAJI: My daughter?

MARIKO: We take refuge in the buddha. We take refuge in the dharma. We take refuge in the sangha.  (The Haji arranges people in a circle, men on one side, women on the other. He instructs them softly for a few moments, then the zikr begins. It is sung, not spoken. Flutes and drums join from offstage. As the zikr progresses, the Rabbi, Shaykh, and Guru      begin descending the stairs. The light changes continuously as a succession of lovely colors sweeps the room. A Turkish stringed instrument joins the flutes and drums. The melody is haunting and hypnotic in its beauty.)

HAJI: Bismillah ar-Rahman ar-Rahim. Alhamdulillah ar-Rabil ‘alameen. As-salatu wa as-salamu alayka, ya Rasulallah. As-salatu wa as-salaamu alayka, ya Habeeballah. As salatu wa as-salaamu alayka ya sayidee al awaleen wa al akhireen, wa alhamdulillah ya Rabi al-alameen.

ALL: La illaha illa ‘llah. (11 times, with head and body motions. The circle      sways.)

(At a signal from the Haji, the words and motions change; he signals each change of phrase and motion this way.)

ALL: Ilallah, ilallah, ilallah, ilallah. (11 times.) ALL: Allah, Allah.  (11 times.)

ALL: Hu, hu, hu, hu. (11 times.) (To a different melody, with flute and string improvisations in the background, the circle begins gracefully moving to the right. The Haji begins one melody, then adds another, until the group is singing in three parts. The women’s scarves float under the colored lights as they move. Downstage, Barbara, Yvette, and Mariko are turning, arms extended.)

ALL: Hayy ul-Qayuum Allah, Hayy ul-Qayuum Allah . . .

HAJI: Anta al Hadi, Anta al Haqq, laysa al Hadi illah Hu . . .

ALL: Hayy Hayy Hu, Hayy Hayy Hu . . .

(As they sing, the circle winds into a spiral which closes in on itself till they stand together, swaying in a tight knot.)

HAJI: Come, helpers and hidden servants of Divine Unity. We ask your protection and guidance for ourselves, and for those who are with us, and for every being throughout your vast universes, oh Lord of the Worlds. 

(The Rabbi, Shaykh, and Guru stand around the group, arms raised, palms down in blessing. Most cannot see them, but Barbara stares open mouthed at the Rabbi.)

HAJI: (Softly.) Now I am calling the saints. “Medeti” means “come.” (Singing a qasida - a sung prayer in poetic, beautiful form—as the group      sways gently.) Mediti, ya awlia Medeti, ya Haji Bektash Veli. Medeti, ya Junaid al-Baghdadi. Medeti, ya Ibrahim Adham. Medeti, ya Ibrahim Dusuki. Medeti, ya Abdul Qadr Jilani. Medeti, ya Rabia al-Adawiyya. Medeti, ya Jalaludin Rumi. Medeti, ya Shams at-Tabrisi. Medeti, ya Ibn al-Arabi. Medeti, ya Ahmed Bedawi. Medeti, ya Hazrat Inayat Khan. Medeti, ya Ahmed Murad Chisti. Medeti, ya Hazreti Pir Nureddin Jerrahi. Medeti, ya Amina Teslima al-Jerahi. Medeti, ya Muzaffer Ashki al-Jerrahi. Medeti, ya Nur al-Anwar al-Jerrahi. Medeti, medeti!

THE RABBI: May your blessing be with us, Reb Nachman of Brezlov.

THE GURU: May your blessing be with us, Sri Ramakrishna Paramahamsa.

THE SHAYKH: May your blessing be with us, oh hidden saints and sages. We ask that the highest aspirations of every being be fulfilled.

HAJI: Alhamdulillah, alhamdulillah, alhamdulillah, ya Rabeel alameen. 

HAJI: Now sleep, my little ones. Let us see what your dreams will bring. (The stage goes black.)

Scene Three

( Next morning. The characters are relaxing, drinking cups of water and casually discussing the previous night. When characters “exit” during this scene, they go to the back or sides of the boat, turn their backs, and freeze, so they are removed from the main action.)

 BOB: Okay, here’s my two cents. Here’s the wisdom of the universe.

PETER: Well?

BOB: There -  is - no - limit.

YVETTE: That’s it?

BOB: Look, you know how you read some disgusting thing somebody’s done, or you hear about some atrocity, and you think--

YVETTE: You think, “Is there no limit? “Is there nothing so horrible somebody won’t do it?”

BOB: Right.

YVETTE: If that’s the secret of the universe, we are in trouble.

BOB: But, see, it works the other way, too. There’s no limit in the other direction either.

YVETTE: What do you mean?

BOB: There’s no brick wall somewhere saying, “This is as far as you can go. You can only save 19 lives, not 20. You can’t invent something new. You can’t write a great book.” The only reason you can’t be great--

BARBARA:  Is that you think you can’t. 

PETER: “For these things that I do, you can do also, and even greater things.”

BOB: Right. We’ve been brainwashed into thinking we’re little.

CHANDRA: Is it not the opposite problem? The swollen human ego destroying the earth?

BOB: Yeah, that too. The insane gods of technology gone wild. That too. But it’s like we’ve got the pride and the humility in the wrong places. Outside all this power, and inside, emptiness, nothing. We should be humble with the earth and each other, and inside, strong. Strong.

PETER: So what are you going to do with this information?

BOB; I’ll look around. See what needs doing. See what needs doing.

(Bob exits.)

PETER: And what are you going to do if we ever get out of here?

YVETTE: Go on with my life. Live my life.

PETER: Are you married?

YVETTE: No.

PETER: Engaged?

YVETTE: No.

PETER: Seeing someone?

YVETTE: No.

PETER: Remaining faithful to someone long dead?

YVETTE: Thank you very much, Peter, I’d love to have dinner with you.

PETER: Soggy hard tack?

YVETTE: We’ve got plenty of water. (They exit.)

MARIA LUZ: Are you feeling better?

MARIKO: Yes. Why are we all acting as if we’re about to be rescued?

MARIA LUZ; Because we are. I saw it in a dream last night.

MARIKO: I am glad I have been here. You see, in Japan, there are only Japanese. Well, there are some Koreans, and a few gaijin, foreigners. But I have not known them. We Japanese are a special people, but I am glad to have known these others, also. My trip has been very educational.

MARIA LUZ: Perhaps my father would let us visit each other. After all, we’ve been through a lot together. I could show you Mexico City.

MARIKO: Yes, that is a very good idea. I will ask my auntie. (They exit.)

LAMONT (to Chandra): So, what have you learned? You’re not like Bob. You already know all that stuff. You been livin’ it.

CHANDRA: It is true that I have always worked for the highest ideals. Perhaps I have learned—to laugh. (She exits.)

LAMONT (to Joe): Well, there they go, all tied up in neat little packages. What about you?

JOE: What about me?

LAMONT: I couldn’t believe the way you took away that gun. Fastest dead- drunk man I ever saw.

JOE: Could be.

LAMONT: I’ve heard stories about you, same as Peter did. You’re brilliant at your job, and you drink like a whale. You party, but you don’t really know nobody, and don’t nobody know you. What’s with you, man?

JOE: Work is safe. I know I’m good. I know the rules. With people it’s too confusing. The rules are different with everyone you meet.

LAMONT: Well, if Bob can save the world, and Chandra can laugh, maybe you can start relatin’ to people a little bit.

JOE: Says you.

LAMONT: Just get a toe in the water. That’s all I ask. Just a toe. (Joe exits. Lamont steps back, and Habeeb and Barbara take center stage.)

HABEEB: I am not a Palestinian, but I am an Arab.

BARBARA: I am not an Israeli, but I am a Jew. (They put on sweatshirts. Hers has a large “I” on it, his a large “P”.)

BARBARA AND HABEEB (Speaking together slowly and firmly, mirroring each other in stylized dance.) 

My people need a home. A place to be.  A place on the face of the earth to exist.

You want us to go somewhere else? But these are our ancient lands. We love these rocks and these groves. This is our home. Besides, there is nowhere else.

It wasn’t our fault, what was done to us. It wasn’t our fault.

(Facing the audience): 

We had no voice. They told us we were nobody.  They told us we should not exist.

(Facing each other again, with anger.) 

But we do exist. We will not creep away and die.  As you’ve seen, we’ll FIGHT if we have to. We will FIGHT!

(With despair.)

But it’s so hard. The children are growing up in—

BARBARA: Fear.

HABEEB: Oppression.

BOTH: Anger.

TOGETHER (Pointing at each other): 

You are not human. You are the enemy.  You have no right to ruin our lives.

How can we live together? We’re so different. We’re so different (They take hands, and exit, running lightly. After a pause, the Haji walks to Lamont)

HAJI: And you, my son?

LAMONT (Gently): And me, grandfather?

HAJI: I think you will come with me for a while. Not too long. Your employer will understand. In that country they know about our ways.

LAMONT: (Still very politely) Why would I go with you? HAJI: Stop playing games with me, my son. The shaykh and the dervish know one another. Our meeting is maktub—written. It was written before the beginning of time. You are my successor.

LAMONT: And what is a shaykh?

HAJI: The shaykh is a guide, a teacher, a servant of Allah. One day you will become the shaykh.

LAMONT: And what is a dervish?

HAJI: A student and follower of the shaykh, as you know. But the word itself is Persian. It means “door sill”, threshold. The dervish is the doorway between the worlds.

LAMONT: I will go with you, grandfather. Thank you.

(A ship appears.  On its side is painted its name, Machina ex Deus .)

THE CAPTAIN: (A Somali.)  Salaam aleikum.  Anybody want a lift?

LAMONT: Waleikum as salaam. Don’t mind if we do.  (They exit slowly on the ship, while making final statements.)

THE HAJI: “Oh, humanity, We have created you male and female and made you into tribes and nations that you may know each other and be friends. Surely the noblest of you before God is the one who most excels in good deeds.”

BARBARA: “Do not be daunted by the enormity of the world’s grief. Do justly now. Love mercy now. You are not obligated to complete the work. Neither are you free to abandon it. “

CHANDRA: “In whatever way and path humans worship Me, in that same path do I meet and fulfill their aspirations and grace them. It is always My Path that humans follow in all their different paths and journeys, on all sides.”

PETER: “For now we see as through a glass darkly; but then, face to face. Now I know in part; but then shall I know even as also I am known.”

JOE: (Softly): All for one and one for all.

LAMONT AND BOB (singing, from barely off stage): “Says Barnacle Bill, the Sai-lor.”

Amin