Sat 11th April 09

It’s 9.30. An hour when most civilised Uruguayans are planning what to do for their Saturday night. I’m going to bed.

Contentedly so. My whole body feels exhausted. Everything feels elongated, stretched to the nth degree. It seems like a month since I was at Jorge’s, though it’s only a week. 3 months since I was staying at the flat in San Jose, though it’s only a fortnight.

We rehearsed, for the last time, in the Parking. 4, the last scene that wasn’t quite ready, is now done. The breakthrough came on Wednesday, when V abruptly decided to start the scene with her hands behind her back. Like all Uruguayan actors, she’s very expressive. The hands are used emphatically. Removing them from the scene, she was suddenly showing far less, and the emotion was kept in check. This was all polished today. Changing the nature of her madness at the end, making it more introspective.

There was both a bus strike and a taxi strike today, as a taxi driver was murdered last night. As a result, Ana arrived late, which seemed to help her. (Her opening lines are, I’m late, I’m late again, I’m always late, or words to that effect, I forget the English). The run was good. If the actors aren’t ready now they probably never will be. On Monday we’re in the theatre and the countdown to Friday begins.



Anibal is out, with the new girl. Leandro, Anibal’s lodger, has gone away for the weekend. I am alone in a house of a night for the first time since I left London. A few minutes a candombé parade passed down the street, 20 kids banging drums in intricate rhythmic patterns. Now it’s quiet.

I’m two thirds of the way through my stay. I don’t quite know how I feel. The weather is blissful, warm but not hot, and still. I walked along the sea tonight, with the moon, which goes the other way here, flattering the water. I attempt to work out my feelings towards Uruguay, which is far more than just a place to me, it’s like a second home. Only I’m not sure you can really have two homes. Maybe, but if so I suspect it’s a permanently dissatisfactory arrangement. In the end, so much comes down to work, doing the work you want to do. Still, whilst I have had this here, I know my exhaustion is also caused by the absence of my other home, the actual physical space, and the city. Or maybe it’s just old age.

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