ANNA IN THE TROPICS by Nilo Cruz

This lush romantic drama depicts a family of cigar makers whose loves and lives are played out
against the backdrop of America in the midst of the Depression. Set in Ybor City (Tampa) in
1930, Cruz imagines the catalytic effect the arrival of a new "lector" (who reads Tolstoy’s Anna
Karenina to the workers as they toil in the cigar factory) has on a Cuban-American family. Cruz
celebrates the search for identity in a new land.

Conchita is the elder daughter of Santiago and Ofelia, as well as the sister to Marela. She is
married to Palomo, but she doesn't really spend much alone time with him outside of the factory,
where they both work as cigar rollers. Though they dream of one day opening their own shop
together, their marriage is put on the rocks by two main events. The first is Palomo's pursuit of
another woman during their marriage, as well as his refusal to talk to Conchita about this affair.
The second is Conchita's eventual affair with Juan Julian, the romantic lector of the factory who
teaches Conchita to love again and to live authentically as the self she aspires to. This love
triangle parallels the love triangle of Anna Karenina, Anna's husband, and Vronsky, and it also
has a tragic end, with Juan Julian being killed by Cheché. By the play's end, however, Juan
Julian's intrusion into her life has shaped her into a more independent woman, and she is able
to reconcile with Palomo through the lessons taught to her by both literature and Juan Julian
himself.

To Palomo …

CONCHITA: That's exactly what Anna said when the husband confronted her about the lover:
"It's late. Let's go to sleep."
Have you ever heard the voice of someone who's deaf? The voice is crude and ancient,
because it has no sense of direction or place, because it doesn't hear itself and it doesn't know if
anybody else in the world hears it. Sometimes I want to have a long conversation with you, like
this. Like a deaf person. As if I couldn't hear you or myself. But I would just talk and talk, and
say everything that comes to my mind, like a shell that shouts with the voice of the sea and it
doesn't care if anybody ever hears it. That's how I want to speak to you, and ask you things.
Things that you wouldn't tell me, afraid that I might not understand. I'd like to know what she's
like. And what does she do to make you happy?