Chorizo
April 18th, 2021
Starring: A & B
Note: During the play, when the word chorizo is written “chorizo” (in quotes), they pronounce the word very under-accented, like how a person with zero Spanish experience/tonal awareness might pronounce it. When it’s written as chorizo (in italics), they pronounce the word very over-accented, like a person with more/significant Spanish experience/tonal awareness. When the word chorizo is written as chorizo, their pronunciation is sort of flat, one could say “standard American.” This might be difficult to understand (as you’re reading this, not hearing it), just know that how the word’s said should have three distinct sounds/pronunciations.
The metal bleachers of a community baseball field. A and B sit side by side, holding to-go coffee cups, with a brown paper bag in between them. They each fish out a foil package, placing it on their laps. They open the foil, revealing a steaming stack of breakfast tacos. In sync, they pick up their tacos and chew. They make noises of supreme satisfaction:
A
Oh.
B
Oh wow.
A
God.
B
Jesus.
A
Sweet Jesus that’s so good.
B
I can already feel the hangover lifting.
A
Oh yeah, it’s kicking its ass.
B
It’s like in gangster movie. Like the taco mob’s got it cornered in a back alley.
A
And the hangover’s like “fine fine I’ll get you your money”
B
But then the eggs are like SMACK
A
Then the tortilla’s like UPPERCUT
B
Then the salsa’s like KNEE TO THE GROIN
A
Then the bacon finishes off with a CURB STOMP
B
And then they just leave it there in a whimpering puddle on the ground
A
And let the caffeine clean up the mess.
They share a laugh, taking a sip of their coffees. They keep eating away at their tacos. B looks down at theirs, peering closer:
B
You sure this is bacon?
A
Pretty sure that’s what they gave me
B
Seems a little spicy for bacon
A
It tastes pretty bacony
B
But the texture’s sausagey
A
So what would it be if it’s not bacon?
B
I don’t know…
Chorizo?
A
Ohhh
Chorizo.
B looks inside what’s left of their taco.
B
Yeah. That’s gotta be chorizo.
A
Chorizo.
B
Chorizo.
A
Chorizo.
...
B
Are we saying it wrong?
A
Chorizo?
Well to a native speaker, probably. But for non-fluent Spanish speakers, I don’t think we’re saying it that wrong.
Like we’re not pronouncing it “chorizo,” or whatever.
B
But it’s not like we’re pronouncing it natively.
A
Oh, yeah, no.
I mean I could do so much better.
B
No yeah, me too.
A
Like I could say it like...chorizo.
B
Chorizo
A
Chorizo
B
Chorizo
A
See, we can at least attempt to say it natively. Some people can’t even roll their r’s.
B
But now doesn’t it sound like we’re overcorrecting?
A
Right. Which is why I never pronounce chorizo like chorizo.
B
Nor do I. It’s not our place.
A
But at the same time, isn’t trying to pronounce it natively the best thing we can do?
B
It’s a fine line between trying and appropriating.
A
But chorizo has to be better than saying “chorizo.”
B
Not if it comes off like we know exactly how to say it. That’s whitewashing.
A
So it’s better to say “chorizo?”
B
I don’t know. Given who we are, that’s more expected, right?
A
I mean yeah, it wouldn’t surprise anyone if either of us said it like “chorizo.”
B
So maybe it’s less offensive to play into the more offensive sounding pronunciation.
A
But that doesn’t sit right with me. We know some Spanish, we understand words have power. Why associate ourselves with people who don't even consider that?
B
Because if we go all try-hard, we might be seen as virtue signalers who aren’t committed to true allyship.
A
So...we’re wrong either way.
B
But at least if we’re ignorant, we won’t stick out.
They sit with that. A fiddles with their foil packaging.
A
I just feel like...there has to be a Goldilocks.
B
What?
A
A Goldilocks. Like the story.
Like if chorizo is too hot and “chorizo” is too cold…
B
There has to be a just right.
A
Right!
Some way of saying it that says “hey, I understand I’m not a part of your cultural heritage, and this isn’t the native way of saying it, but given my respect for your cultural heritage, I have a good understanding of how it might be said, and it’s enough to show that I’m not a degenerate with zero respect for your cultural heritage.”
B
Which sounds like...
A
Which sounds like…
They both look at the other, waiting on the other’s move:
B
Cho...chorizo.
No that’s too—
A
A little too much.
Umm
Chorizo. Chorizochorizo.
...
Crap no I totally—
A
Too little, yeah.
B
Ok...chorizo.
A
Ok—
B
Ok that wasn’t totally horrible—
A
Not bad.
B
Chorizo.
Wait I messed up I messed—
A
Yeah yeah go again.
B
Chorizo.
Chorizo.
...
See it wasn’t the same since that time—
A
Yeah I don’t know just...let it fly. Right off the tongue.
Like
Chorizo.
B
Yeah. Chorizo.
A
Chorizo.
B
Chorizo.
A
Chorizo.
B
Chorizo.
A
Chorizo.
B
Chorizo.
A
Chorizo.
They keep saying it, back and forth. The word starts to feel strange in their ears and mouths. It becomes trance like. It escalates, more urgent and rapid. It goes and goes and goes until:
A vomits all over the bleachers. B turns away, trying to see it. Then B begins to vomit.
It continues.
When they’re done, silence. They look down at their throw-ups.
A looks down and picks out a little piece of food from the vomit, holding it up:
A
You sure this isn’t bacon?