The Open Page

Urˇsula Cetinski Lonely Voyage

In 1995 I wrote a play Alma and, with Slovene actress Polona Vetrih we created a one-woman show based on the autobiog- raphy of Alma Karlin. Alma Maximiliana Karlin was born in 1889 in the "Don't mind what they say Slovene town of . She studied languages in about you. (English, Norwegian, Danish, Italian, Spanish, French, The only thing right for you Russian). She also took up Sanskrit, Chinese, Egyptology and is what you think is right. Hebrew, and passed exams in eight languages at the London People can't grow as Society of Arts with honours. In 1920 she boarded the ship others bend them. Bologna in Genoa, and sailed for Japan via . The path you've chosen She left Japan in July 1923 and set out for Korea, then to is a strange one. Manchuria and China. In Hong Kong she bought a ticket to But it's right for you. . Alma lived among the natives of Fiji, New Nobody has the right Caledonia, New Hebrides, the Caroline Islands and New to put you down." Guinea. She contracted malaria and narrowly escaped canni- bals. She visited and travelled across Bab-el-Mandeb (The Gate of Tears). She returned to Celje in 1928. During her eight-year voyage of self-discovery she made her way by teaching, translating and interpreting, writing articles for no less than twenty-five European newspapers. Between 1930 and 1940, after her return to , she published twenty books, novels and travelogues, lectured at European univer- sities and held a correspondence with Selma Lagerlöf. She lived with the Swedish painter Thea Gamelin. During World War II they were persecuted by the Nazis because of their political views. After the war Alma and Thea moved into a little house on the hill above Pecovnik, a village on the outskirts of Celje. Alma died in 1950, of cancer, and was buried during a snow blizzard. In my play I respected all the facts connected with her life, as described in her autobiography Lonely Voyage. Alma 11 Karlin was an almost unknown writer in Slovene society since all her writings were published in German. Her myste- rious emotional life was born in my imagination. The perfor- mance stimulated the translation of her books into Slovene and inspired recognition of her work fifty years after her death. Our experience is an example of the fact that theatre Theatre Women Text - Ursulaˇ Cetinski has the power to rewrite history, especially my family thought I was a little crazy. They that of women. sent me to the psychiatrist. He just glanced at me: "The girl's quite all right." He even gave me a certificate. ALMA I put a few clothes into a suitcase, the PICTURE I dictionary, 130 dollars and 54 marks. I got "When you've gone, I'm never going to eat Erica, my typewriter, ready and I said: "If you fish again," my aunt said. don't go further than the sheep, you won't "Why not?" see much more than they do." "Because I'm not a cannibal. The Scotland Maru's returning empty to Japan. PICTURE II You'll be the only woman on board. The I travelled third class on the Bologna. I was sailors will throw you into the sea. The fish squeezed into the hold: "Lasciate ogni spe- will eat what's left of you." ranza voi ch'entrate." I didn't want to upset her. I decided to travel to Japan through South America. In the upper beds lay women wrapped in wide, heavy skirts. They clucked constantly, I had already prepared for my journey round like hens. That I could take. But I couldn't the world when I was studying in London. I take the macaroni that they spewed past me spent hours in the library. I buried myself in to the floor. I've great respect for the rule books. I composed a dictionary of ten foreign that what's in the stomach should remain languages. I thought: "My strength will be there. that I'll be able to understand everything I watched a tiny blond in the corner. She wherever I go." never spoke. After a few days she came to me and gave me her white hand: "I'm Ema." They had sent me my first novel in Celje. For hours I gazed at my name on the flyleaf: Whenever the sea was rough, she sat on the Alma Maximiliana Wilhelmina Karlin. I edge of my bed. There we were silent whispered it a thousand times, like a charm. together. "Now she'll finally settle down," my mother One night I dreamed I was sitting on a thought. Every day she told me a new story. great pile of walnut kernels and eating them. About some girl in the street who became I squeezed them into my mouth like a Mrs So and So, who sends her love and asks: lunatic, but I couldn't get enough. Strange "Anything new at your place, too?" cries wakened me. It was Ema. Men weren't Her stories persuaded me that I was not allowed in our sleeping quarters at night. like other women. But her husband, a Peruvian, was visiting "My life's only just started, but not here her. I heard how he persuaded her. He in Celje. Far away, where I can be what I wanted her to go on deck with him so he really am. I'll heal my wounds in foreign could satisfy his lust. She resisted. Then he lands, about which I'll write. I'll go far away, beat her for a long time. so I can finally be myself. I'll travel the world In the morning, on the deck, she apolo- in three years." gised to me: "You know, he's a good man. But the cheese he gets on the ship overheats his People at that time - after the First World blood." War of 1914/1918 - used to stay at home, so "Why did you marry him?"

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"Because he was the only one to lead me them even when it was very hot. Then to the altar." something occurred to me: I took them off I took her by the hand: "Look we're and put them in my handbag. leaving Gibraltar. Look how the ships are At that moment, a man grabs me. He whistling us farewell. That's how human drags me into a ditch: "Déjame! No me souls slide past each other." toques!" I can't move. I sink my teeth into his She disembarked at the port of Puerto paw. He lets go. Cabello. She was in a black silk dress, with a "No me toques, no me toques nunca más!" yellow cascade of pale lace. Next to her was "Si me tocas, te mato! Te mato!" the Peruvian. They meant to walk to Peru, The beast in man still frightens me. I through South America. Entering a new don't want to be touched. I'll never let them world like getting onto a tram. Slowly. With touch me again. Men I know say: "You don't nothing. Not even a handkerchief. I thought: know anything about love. You can only "She'll die, before the sun sets." ever be a friend." I am sure he killed her. After three weeks in Arequipa, I heard PICTURE III strange voices in the street. I disembarked at Mollendo. Don Luis waved "I'm going to see what's wrong," Don farewell. The morning transfixed me. The José said to me. people devoured me with hungry eyes. I felt "Some Cholos, Indians, are standing in in every fibre: "Now I'm really alone." front of the house. They say you're a Bolivian A train took me high into the Andes, to or a Chilean spy. They say you're not a Arequipa. There I saw Misti, the miraculous woman. That no woman has such short hair Peruvian hill. Misti has a soul that belongs as you. They've decided to strip you and see to eternity. Long buried secrets link us. We for themselves... " were born from the thought and the dream (Alma grabs a knife. The fingers that grip of one and the same being. Great and invis- the knife let go. The knife falls to the ground.) ible. I saw the world through Misti's eyes. I PICTURE V saw myself: my soul left my body and I was I was so relieved to leave Peru in one piece. I floating above myself. Then I turned my arrived in Panama with five dollars in my head slightly and I was watching my own self pocket. I went straight to the Red Cross. sitting on the bench. "I need work urgently. Anything... I give lessons. I translate. I type. I paint. I take PICTURE IV photographs. I help in hospitals... I could The most prominent lawyer in Arequipa wash the floor. I could wash the night offered me my first job: "I've thirteen daugh- pans..." ters. It would be fine if you could teach them "Would you be a waitress?" something. But not too much. Just what's "Yes. Yes." suitable for a woman. I'll expect you "I'm sorry. It wouldn't work. You are too tomorrow at nine." On my way I met my fragile." fellow traveller from the Bologna. Don José A Panamanian photographer finally took offered to accompany me. We crossed the pity on me. We rinsed the plates together in fields. I always wear gloves outdoors. I wore his darkroom. He was the only man in beau-

13 Theatre Women Text - Ursulaˇ Cetinski tiful, sinful Panama who said to me: Americans are always weighing themselves. "Don't mind what they say about you. There are scales everywhere. They leap onto The only thing right for you is what you them like mad. think is right. People can't grow as others bend them. The path you've chosen is a In San Francisco I was given the addresses of strange one. But it's right for you. Nobody five Austrian newspapers. I sent them my has the right to put you down." articles. They didn't answer at all. They He was a Jew. He had a lot of qualities probably threw them away. One published that many Christians lack. my piece, and I got an answer from the fifth, Then I took a court interpreter's exam. the editor of the Klagenfurter Zeitung. He It wasn't easy: I had to translate from two wrote: "Dear Mr Karlin! Sehr geehrter Herr foreign languages into a third. When I Karlin!" Later a certain Mr Anton visited walked along the street, they pointed behind him. The editor talked a great deal about my back and whispered: "El señor intér- the heroic world traveller, "Sehr geehrter Herr prete!" Karlin!" Mr Anton replied: "I agree with you. But Mr. Karlin has only one child. And that's PICTURE VI a Miss." I discovered a fine custom in . In San Francisco modern women also have PICTURE VII to run errands at night. If they're walking I then embarked on the ship, the Empire out alone at night, they wrap themselves in State. A band played on the shore. People the national flag, with the stars and stripes. cried and waved. Nobody cried for me. Any man who harasses them, dishonours the flag. So he can be sent to prison for fifteen The journey round the world changed me a years. great deal. I became a communist. I knew that the poor people with whom I travelled North America is another planet. A real were better people than the rich in first paradise for a woman like me! Whenever class. It seemed to me that they had a lot things go wrong in the kitchen, you go to more heart. Above all the women. the shop. They sell ready-made paté, meat Whenever I quarrelled with God and the and vegetables in tins there. They have world, they often prevented me from running water in the houses. An electric breaking down. washing machine washes their clothes, and Before disembarking in Hawaii, a they iron them with an electric iron. There I Chinese girl hastily pressed a letter into my decided to collect recipes and the spices to hand. On shore, I tried to post it. I found go with them. I promised myself that I would that it had no address. I opened it, and most certainly learn the art of cooking... If I found a dollar which she had given me. Even had time. she had noticed how poor I was. She helped American women are beautiful, tall, me, as one woman to another woman. elegant. I even saw them in trousers. Mainly On the deck of the Empire State, I also when they were riding. They sit on a horse talked to people who could afford to travel like men. Women can go where they want. first class. They never talked to me. Empty Alone or with a man. But I don't understand words flew from their mouths. They were why they have to enter a hotel through a totally uninterested in who I was and what I special door. I also don't understand why thought about. I thought that they never

14 The Open Page noticed anything except themselves. But Sanchiko was involved with the freeing of they noticed. They noticed my worn out the geishas. The police were always knocking dress and hat. on her door. The last time I visited her, she The Americans are always talking about pulled me fearfully into the house. There I democracy. But those of us crammed into met a beautiful young woman. She had the ship's belly were of a completely different marvellous white skin, like the finest fragile world from those above us. There was no porcelain. She awoke in me a strange desire way of moving from one to the other. Like to touch her face. wanting to go from hell to heaven. "I helped her to escape from Yoshivara," Sanchiko said. "She'd been taken to I was interviewed for the first time when I Yoshivara when she was three years old. got to Hawaii. They published a whole Her parents sold her to some elderly geisha. column in the Star Bulletin about me and She taught her to dance the old dances, to about my travels. They described all the recite, she showed her how to arrange horrors I went through and what my future flowers. Five years ago, they put her by the plans were. open doorway in winter. There she had to My friend Thea wrote to tell me that a stay until she got pneumonia. She got a German publishing house had published my husky, quiet voice, like all geishas have to first novel My Little Chinese. She sent me have. If we hadn't succeeded last night, she the book and some fairly good reviews. I put would have stayed in Yoshivara until she them above the bed. I felt divine. I said to died." myself: "Girl, you were born for great things!" On the way home, I bought a bag of peaches. I thought about the beautiful young geisha, PICTURE VIII and suddenly became very sad. I remem- "Excuse me, are you a man or a woman?" bered that I, too, had left my home behind In front of me was standing a porter at many years ago. That I was travelling the Tokyo station. world like a stone that gathers no moss. I "A woman." love no-one and no-one loves me: no man, "That's what I thought, but you've been no woman, no child. Is it always going to be standing the whole time beside the men." like this? In Japan, I got to know some fairly modern women who wanted to change their PICTURE IX lives. I got three students as soon as I reached "I'd rather die than live like my mother," Taiwan. Gentlemen in the city administra - Sanchiko told me. "When my mother was tion to whom I taught English. Mr Lee was thirteen years old, they found her a husband, the best of them. I'd never before met my father. She left her parent's home dressed anyone who could learn with such energy. in white. The house was blessed, like for a In every corner of the world, I carefully corpse. She came to my father and his divided my time: time for study, reading, mother, who she had never met until then. painting, writing. I never broke my schedule. She helped in the kitchen, she washed and Taiwan was the only exception. On Tuesdays she sewed. During meals, she served on her and Sundays, Mr Lee joined me on the knees. And every year she was pregnant." terrace after class. But he didn't bother me. He told me things I'd never have been able

15 Theatre Women Text - Ursulaˇ Cetinski to discover myself. The Tayals, head-hunters, like mad. I wanted to forget Taiwan. During interested me most of all. the day, I could. But every night before I "The Tayals lie hidden together in the closed my eyes, there came a moment of grass for days," he told me. "When they spot loneliness and truth. Everywhere I went to a victim, they fling themselves on him or sleep, I felt again how we had parted from her: they cut off the head, and leave the each other. body. Every young Tayal, before getting Lee's hands enfold me like a tropical married, must bring home at least one head." flower. He whispers, "stay". "I have to go and see them," I said. "Yes, I'll stay," I think. I feel as if I've "Out of the question, it's too dangerous... finally found a father or brother. I look at Well, maybe it would be possible with a him, to tell him how grateful I am. I read in police escort. And I'll come with you myself. his eyes that gratitude is not enough, that it's Such a tiny thing as you are could disappear not a daughter or sister he's looking for. On and be lost in the high grass," he answered. an island far from home, I finally recognised: One afternoon, we were sitting at the "Neither he or any other man will ever table. Mr Lee was strangely absentminded. find in me what he seeks. Because it doesn't "Maybe he's tired," I thought. exist." I had shut the textbook earlier than usual. I waited. He had promised me that, When I embarked on the boat at Genoa I just for me, he would find out more about dreamed: the one hundred plus poisonous snakes that "I'll come back home in three years. live in Taiwan. Mr Lee does what he prom- There'll be a great crowd at the station ises. I waited for a new story. waiting for me. A little girl will bring me a "May I touch your hair, Alma?" great bunch of yellow roses. The mayor will "Yes." make a speech. Then they'll offer me He stands up. Slowly. He comes behind sausages." my back. I feel a soft touch. Butterflies are After eight years I arrived in Celje. The walking across my hair. Fire burns at the end station was completely empty. of his fingers. My skin answers. It unites with his. I don't know where I end and he begins. PICTURE XI As soon I got back, I wrote a lot and gave a PICTURE X lot of lectures. In almost every university in God knows how many soft Japanese hand- Europe. Last of all in Stockholm. The city kerchiefs I soaked when I fled from Taiwan. was grey. Tiny droplets of rain sprayed from A strange force wanted to burst my breast. I the sky. I set out for the university on foot, could have stayed. I could have woken every with Thea. Thea had a fairly large, light morning beside my own man and every study in which she painted. She'd surren- evening gone to sleep by him. My life could dered the room to me, as well as her large have been warm and safe, such as it had woollen blanket, in which I wrapped myself never been. Only, it would no longer be me. so as not to freeze. Above all, it would have brought the feeling The lecture room was packed out. When that I had got stuck half way. I entered, the students became respectfully I travelled Australia, New Zealand, New silent. I began with an anecdote from New Guinea, Java, Siam, Cambodia and India. Guinea. I told them how I had met with Everywhere, I wrote, painted and explored cannibals. How they had surrounded me,

16 The Open Page pinched me and felt my skin. Then, fortu- PICTURE XII nately, the moonlight shone on me. What In Celje, I began putting together a new disappointment: "Just bones for soup," they book: Mystery of the South Sea. I'm only thought. When I left, they didn't chase me. I happy when I'm writing! ran like lightning. My steps only just touched Then one afternoon someone knocked the ground. on my door. Then I suddenly felt really bad. I don't "Can't you leave me in peace!" remember how Thea got me home and put I opened it. me to bed. I felt cold, like being locked in a "Du? Du bist endlich gekommen!" cube of ice. I trembled like Chinese bells It was Thea. She was breathless from above the door. I was drowning in a pure carrying a suitcase and easel from the new world. station. I made up a bed so she could rest. I Thea had sat awake beside me all night: remembered that I hadn't asked how long "The doctor says it's malaria. He's prescribed she would stay. When I went to the room, quinine." she was still sleeping. Her hair was strewn I peered from the pile of blankets like an over the white pillow. Thin, transparent lids unhappy hamster. covered her eyes. She was breathing peace- "You are so smart, I don't know why fully and deeply. you take such bad care of yourself," Thea I don't know why, but I didn't even ask said. next morning how long she'd be with me. Nor the following morning, nor any of the She painted in the mornings, and in the mornings that have happened to us in all afternoons snuggled down in an armchair by these years. I am sure that neither of us will my bed. She spoke little. I talked and talked. go anywhere, until God so decides. About myself and about my life. I even told Travelling never scared me. When my her things I'd thought I'd forgotten long ago. time comes, I'll sail far, far into eternal space. I told her everything. I'll find a star from which the earth can't be I was already missing her when she seen. walked me to the station. Translated from Slovene by Martin Creegan

URˇSULA CETINSKI (Slovenia) is a theatre programme director in the main cultural centre Cankarjev Dom in Ljubljana, the capital of Slovenia. She produces Slovene theatre and contemporary dance and curates an international theatre programme. She also works as translator, dramaturg and essayist.

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