All language subtitles for One Hundred Years of Solitude s01e14 More than Three Thousand of Them.eng

You can't keep working us like this.

Hey.

They thought they could beat us
into silence, but they're wrong.

-They're dead wrong!
-That's right!

We're gonna make those gringos
give us what we deserve,

and we're doing it the legal way.

We're gonna give them
a petition of demands.

Yeah!

Fellas, please let us explain.

It's a document we'll send to the company,
where we'll list the changes

they need to make
if they want us to keep working.

Yeah!

We can't keep cutting and packing bananas
all week long.

Even the priest says
Sunday is for resting.

-Boys, we all agree on that.
-We need a day off!

Whether you use a day off
to honor God or the devil doesn't matter.

But we have a right to our Sundays!

I'm sick of getting paid
in these stupid vouchers.

Hey, come on, settle down.

Everyone gets a turn to speak,
but we need to go one by one.

A hundred workers
can't share one broken toilet!

It's not right!

We need real money in our pockets
to spend on what we want!

That's right! We need real pay!

We need bigger barracks!
Jos� Arcadio, we don't fit anymore!

Look, is Macondo ours,
or is it going to the gringos?

No!

The town belongs to our people.

LIST OF DEMANDS

Write these things down, man.
We need safe work conditions.

No more canned stuff!

We wanna buy freely!

-We need better living spaces!
-And real medicine!

We can't live in those quarters!

All right, fellas.

And lastly, we demand
eight-hour work days,

-Eight hours to rest, and eight to study.
-Yeah.

Because a well-rested and educated worker
is more productive.

Give us what we want! Only eight hours!

Only eight hours!
Only eight hours! Only eight hours!

Only eight hours!
Only eight hours! Only eight hours!

ONE HUNDRED YEARS OF SOLITUDE

Meme lost all sleep and appetite,

consumed by the anxiety of sinking

into the numbing smell of oil
scrubbed with lye

that clung to Mauricio Babilonia.

She's not leaving this house
as long as that mechanic is in Macondo.

She's a teenager. You're
making a mountain out of a molehill.

-They're corrupting your daughter.
-Nobody's corrupting anyone!

Kissing in a theater!

For the love of God.

So you've got a boyfriend?

Are you in love?

You know you can tell me
anything, sweetheart.

Look, I don't have a boyfriend,
I'm not in love,

and I wasn't kissing anybody
in the theater.

I really was alone.

I was gonna go to the movies
with Patricia, but she never showed.

And besides, the only ones kissing
were the couple in the movie.

But since Mom's never been
to the pictures, she got confused.

Your mother is crazy.

She sees what she wants to see.

You have to help me.

Why don't you take me
to live with you and Petra?

I take it back. You're the crazy one.

Everything will be all right.

But just a word of advice.

Try not to provoke her.

I love you.

Love you more.

Get some rest.

Your daughter is manipulating you.
I am certain of what I saw.

Yes, right away.
I'll send a copy of the documents.

Thank you.

Foreman Buend�a.

Pleasure, sir.

Where is Mr. Brown?

Mr. Brown's not here at the moment.

He took the whole week off
to tend to personal matters.

But tell us how we can be of service.

We came to deliver
this petition of demands.

I am terribly sorry,
but we're unable to accept any documents

that have not
personally been signed by him.

It's company policy.

He's not permitting visitors, Buend�a.

Well, we're not here for a visit.

Tell Mr. Brown

that the workers' representatives
stopped by,

and we're gonna need him
to sign these papers.

He's not here. He's traveling.

I'm gonna ask you to leave now.

-Step aside.
-We didn't come to cause trouble.

-Clear the area. Come on.
-Let's go.

All right. We're leaving.
We're not violent. Come on.

This is private property.

-Calm down.
-I said, leave.

You don't have to get forceful with us.

-Mr. Brown is not here.
-We're leaving.

-Cesa.
-Jos� Arcadio.

I need a favor.

Where is Mr. Brown?

He's with the French girls.

God bless you.

Fran�oise, hey.

No, no, no, no, no.

I need your help.

Love is not to be interrupted.

My business isn't that unethical.

One whiskey, ma ch�rie.

Listen, it's for the future
of the workers.

Swear to God, Fran�oise.

Mr. Brown.

What's this? What is this?

You know French women
can get creative, huh?

If you're satisfied with my service,
I need you to sign here. All right?

-Sign here?
-Mm-hmm.

Here you go.

That's been signed
by more than 50 workers and Mr. Brown.

Sorry, what workers
are you referring to exactly?

The men who work the plantations.

Same ones who plant,
cut, and pack the bananas.

Those are not company employees.

They are day laborers
who are paid by the hour.

That's the exact same thing.

No.

Gentlemen, only those
who have signed a contract

with the United Fruit Company
are employees.

Did you sign a contract?

Did you?

You?

Once you show us your signed contracts,

we would be happy
to look over your petition of demands.

In the meantime, any grievances
should be brought to your foreman here.

-We should get going.
-Excuse us.

It was there
that the illusionists of the law

proved that the workers' claims
had no validity whatsoever

simply because the banana company
did not currently have,

nor had they ever had,

nor would they ever have employees
in its service

since it recruited them
only on a temporary basis.

And in a solemn public decree,
the workers were declared nonexistent.

Those bastards. They're fucking crooks.

Sh!

Hey, keep a lookout.

Those are good.

Bring that over here.

The cans. The ones in the back.

Got enough here for everybody.

Pass it back.

Brothers, United is saying
we're not really their employees,

and they refuse to talk to us.

Listen. Listen to this.

Starting now,

they're gonna have to listen to us
as a united front!

And as a union,

we're gonna fight for our rights
once and for all!

-Yeah!
-We're sick of this!

-We're done!
-We're not gonna stop!

With the same impulsive determination

with which he established
a senseless shipping company,

Jos� Arcadio Segundo
resigned from his position as a foreman

at the banana company�

Hey, brothers!

�and sided with the workers.

We're gonna file a complaint
against the company

because they pay with vouchers
that can only be redeemed

at their commissary.

Did you know they send
shiploads of bananas

off to the United States,

then fill the empty ships with trash
and make us buy it and eat it?

Our hunger is serving the interest
of the United Fruit Company!

We have had enough of this! Give us peace!

Sign for peace! Sign for peace!

Sign for peace! Sign for peace!

Sign for peace! Sign for peace!

-Quiet down! Enough! No more!
-Sign for peace!

-What are you doing?
-Sign for peace!

-Sign for peace!
-Step aside, I said!

-Don't push me!
-We have rights!

Sign for peace!

Sign for peace!

My darling son,

I'm glad to hear
that your clerical studies are going well.

My pregnancy has been a blessing
for the entire family.

We are happy.

Your father showers me with care,

and your sister, Renata,
delights me with her virtuous music.

Grandma �rsula asks every day
when you're going to take your vows.

She can't wait to see you become a priest.

Your father, your sister, and I
pray the rosary for you

every single night.

CERTIFICATE OF SACRED MUSIC
CLAVICHORD

What happened?

Nothing.

Not being allowed out is no excuse
to lounge around in your pajamas.

So get dressed,

make yourself useful,
and clean this rat's nest.

I know, eventually, you'll understand
and appreciate what I do for you, Renata.

Gentlemen!

Sorry for being late.

I was told this was
the new union headquarters.

Open up my office, man.

-Welcome, welcome.
-Hey, foreman.

How you doing? Come in, fellas.

-Hey, brother.
-Make yourselves comfortable.

There's more room here.
It's cooler than the barracks.

If you think You're a fighting bull

Then here I am�

Many of the workers who protested

were taken from their homes
and sent to jail.

Others got themselves arrested
in solidarity.

Hey! Welcome, brothers!

I want my Sunday!

-Yes!
-Yeah!

And if they silence me

I'll sing with my drum�

We need to tell everyone
that, together, we will succeed.

-Nobody should be working. Nobody.
-True.

We're not gonna starve to death.

Mm.

What are you doing
in those sandals, child?

You're bathing at this time of day?

Yes. I just wanted a moment to cool down.

Hmm. Hmm.

Watch out for the scorpions.

-They come out at dusk, hmm?
-Mm-hmm.

Renata? What are you doing?
It's been over an hour.

For God's sake.

At least leave me alone
while I'm in the bathroom.

What are you doing?

These moths.
They're known to bring in bad luck.

They're a plague.
I don't know how you put up with them.

Mr. Brown is not gonna be happy.

Look at 'em.
There's too many to hold here.

The cells are overflowing,
and we can't keep feeding them all.

If you can find a bigger jail,
then I'll put them wherever you want.

You'll get no complaints from me.

So now we will suspend all labor

until this company recognizes us
as employees

and agrees to negotiate with our union.

In the meantime,

may the Holy Spirit perform the miracle
of cutting and packing bananas for them.

Hey, maybe the spirit will get a contract.

-Workers united will never fall!
-Good work.

United!

The success of this endeavor,

along with others
that followed in the months ahead,

brought the colorless
Jos� Arcadio Segundo out of anonymity.

And before long,

he was being denounced as the agent
of an international conspiracy

against public order.

The company workers
abandoned the plantations half-finished,

and the fruit rotted where it hung.

-That's good. Thanks.
-Hey, thank you for your support.

Welcome, my friend.
Your name and signature, please.

Octavio Gonz�lez, sir.

Twenty-three, two years washing bananas
and one counting them.

Welcome, brother.
Thank you for joining us.

Gregorio Fontal. I've been working for
the company for five years.

-How many family members?
-Six.

-Can you sign your name?
-Yes, boss.

Welcome.

Jos� Mart�nez, 45 years old.

-Three years on the job.
-Thanks so much.

Antonio Avenda�o.

Single, 17 years old.

Joaqu�n Fern�ndez, five children.

�all of this blood and guts, and I said,
"Hey, General! General! General!"

-"Permission to go to the bathroom."
-Wait. First you said there were ten.

Now you're saying it was 25?

-What are you doing?
-Yeah, cut the shit.

I think there's a big hole
in that story, pal.

But I swear, there were many more.

I can't remember exactly how many.

But I swear, there were more,
and they were--

NATIONAL POLICE

All right, let's negotiate.

If you manage
to calm this mob of communists,

I'll make a few concessions.

What concessions?

Well, pay increases, rest days, contracts�

But only for you
and the most rebellious ones of the lot.

Nobody else.

I don't want anything to do
with that ridiculous union

you and your little friends invented.

For Christ's sake.

The only negotiation

that we will make with your dirty company

and the vultures that manage it

is your full compliance
with the entire list of our demands.

Goddamn it.

You are just as naive and pathetic
as your uncle, the colonel, was.

You won't buy us off with crumbs.

We will kneel before no one. You got that?

Just like my uncle,
Colonel Aureliano Buend�a.

Let's go!

Hmm.

DEATH TO ANARCHISTS

How many were there? What did you see?

No, I didn't see anything.

This is the last thing I needed.
An anarchist in this family.

I'm not going to accept this.

My brother is not an anarchist.

That was some drunk shooting into the air.

I don't care. I want nothing to do
with workers' protests.

You need to tell him to leave this house.

You're crazy if you think
that I'm going to tell my brother

that he has to leave his own house.

Right.

Why would you care
about what's happening in this house?

You practically live
with your concubine anyway.

I was already thinking of leaving.

Best to wait
for things to cool down a bit.

It feels just like the days of
the colonel's revolution again.

It's as if time continues
going around in circles.

Here you go.

Keep your eyes open, brother.

Safe travels.

The atmosphere was so tense

that the union leaders decided
to leave Macondo�

leaving no trace of their whereabouts.

Does it hurt?

Quit bugging her, Aureliano.

Go get us some water.

Amaranta's life
slipped away in embroidery.

It's beautiful.

For years, she'd kept company with death,

who had granted her the privilege
of announcing itself in advance

and had instructed her
to weave her own shroud�

informing her that she would die
without pain, fear, or bitterness

on the day she completed it.

There you go.

Don't tell me she doesn't look like
an Amaranta �rsula.

She's not gonna put up with anyone's shit.

Mm.

-Mm.
-Hello.

Oh, look at this beautiful baby girl.

I thought I'd never see you smile again.

Look, this girl
is already working miracles.

It's the baths.

They help me get through the boredom
of this confinement.

If you behave,
then I might let it end sooner.

Ah, there's my girl.

I want to inform you
of something very important

that is about to happen.

I'm going to die.

Tomorrow.

And if anyone has a message
for a deceased loved one,

I can deliver it to them.

You're all crazy.

Aw, don't listen to her. You're not crazy.

I'll see you around. Bye.

It seemed like a farce.

Amaranta Buend�a
showed no disturbance of any kind,

nor the slightest sign of pain.

The news that Amaranta
was setting sail at dusk,

carrying mail for the dead,

spread through Macondo that morning.

And by three in the afternoon,

there was a box full of letters
in the living room.

-What are you doing here?
-It's nice to see you.

I mean, it was the only way
I could use the front door.

For the colonel.

I will gladly give this to him.

Thank you.

She regretted not having
the revelation of her death

many years earlier,

when it was still possible
to purify her memories

and rebuild the universe
under a new light.

Her sins must be so grave
that she prefers a sacrilegious death

over facing the shame of confession.

My conscience is clear of shame,

and I depart this world free of sin.

My mother can vouch for that.

Amaranta Buend�a leaves this world
as she came.

A virgin.

Before her death,

Amaranta would have liked to rescue Rebeca
from the mire of her misery.

Not out of hatred or love,

but out of a boundless understanding
of loneliness.

It's getting late.

For what?

For my bath.

I've filled it with water already.

Besides, I don't like to bathe late
because of the scorpions.

Of course.

What was that? What happened?

Help!

The police are saying
he's some sort of chicken thief.

-I heard he was jumping the fence.
-Oh my goodness.

I think I know who that is.

What happened? I don't understand.

All right. Enough.
Go back home, everybody.

He's still breathing.

Move along.

Move along.

The bullet lodged in his spine

confined him to bed
for the rest of his life.

Mauricio died of old age in solitude,

without a whimper,

without a single complaint,

tormented by both the memories
and the yellow butterflies

that never granted him a moment's peace,

having been cast out as a chicken thief.

Fernanda, for God's sake, let go of her.

Meme.

Fernanda, what did you do to her?

-Meme.
-It's all right.

Let's go, my child. It's okay.

The sun shines on us all

On all of us equally

On the man who does wrong

And on the one who does good things

Play it, brother.

Aureliano Segundo
was spending more time with Petra Cotes.

And although his body and soul
could no longer keep up

with the parties of the past,

he never missed a chance
to organize gatherings

and play his accordion.

No work till justice!
No work till justice!

Workers united!

United!

Meanwhile, Jos� Arcadio Segundo
and other union leaders

who had remained in hiding,

reappeared in Macondo without warning,

organizing protests
in every town across the banana zone.

Equality for all!

Equality for all!

Dignity and respect for all!

Dignity and respect for all!

Long live the movement!

Long live the movement!

-United!
-United!

United!

United!

United!

Brothers!

Let's make history
with Macondo and the country!

The people united will never be defeated!

The people united will never be defeated!

Long live organized labor!

Long live organized labor!

-United!
-United!

-United!
-United!

No sooner had
they exiled Mauricio Babilonia

than Fernanda had conceived,
down to the smallest detail,

a plan intended
to erase every vestige of disgrace.

Meme didn't know or care
where she was going.

It would've made no difference to her

if they had been leading her
to the slaughterhouse.

This is your home, my child.

Don't forget your way back.

May God protect you.

She hadn't spoken since�

and would not speak again
for the rest of her life.

The people united will never be defeated!

The people united will never be defeated!

The people united will never be defeated!

Fernanda never knew,
nor did she make any effort,

to find out
whether her daughter's stony silence

was an act of will

or whether the shock of the tragedy
had rendered her mute.

Meme boarded the train like a sleepwalker

and hardly noticed the journey.

She did not see
the white houses of the gringos

or the women sitting on their porches.

She did not see the wagon tracks
along the dusty roads,

nor the crowded
and miserable workers' barracks

where Mauricio Babilonia's
yellow butterflies fluttered.

That fleeting sight�

�which had once been a source of joy
whenever she returned from school,

passed through Meme's heart
without a stir.

The public is hereby informed
that General Cort�s Vargas

has been appointed civil
and military commander of the region,

with the purpose of restoring order.

Accordingly, martial law
has been declared.

There were three regiments.

They were all identical.

Sons of the same mother,

all burdened by the shame
of rifles with fixed bayonets,

the nuisance of blind obedience,
and a sense of honor.

Though he was not a man of omens,

the news struck Jos� Arcadio Segundo
like an announcement

of the death he had been expecting
ever since that distant morning

when he witnessed Moncada's execution.

Silva, Daza, Alabar.

P�rez, Bustamante, this way.

The soldiers put their rifles aside.

Martial law authorized the army
to assume the role of arbiter

in the dispute.

They cut and shipped the bananas
and set the trains in motion,

but no attempts at conciliation
were ever made.

And once again,

both the banana company and the government

ignored the workers' list of demands.

That is how the great strike broke out.

Mom?

Mom?

The workers, who until then
had been content to wait�

�began to sabotage the sabotage.

Oh my goodness! What's happening?

-Let's go! Get out!
-Let's go!

-Leave, motherfuckers!
-Go, get out! Get out!

We've had enough!

Long live equality and the workers' union!

They set plantations
and commissaries on fire.

They destroyed rails
to prevent the trains from running.

Martial law in the banana zone
in Santa Marta Province

declared by the Colombian government
last night.

Feelings against the government
by the proletariat,

which are shared by some soldiers,
is high.

And I doubt that we can rely

on the support of the Colombian government
for our protection.

It is admitted

that the character of the strike
has changed

and that the disturbance
is a manifestation

with subversive tendency.

Our demands will be met!
Our demands will be met!

Our demands will be met!
Our demands will be met!

Our demands will be met!

Stop!

-Justice for the workers!
-United we stand!

Get out, gringos! Get out, gringos!

The people united will never be defeated!

The people united will never be defeated!

May I respectfully suggest that my request

for the presence within calling distance

an American warship be granted.

Did you hear about the strike?

There are fires everywhere.

It's been days, Aureliano.

How are you just finding out?

Where are the girls at?

Amaranta �rsula's still sleeping,

and Renata is not in Macondo.

What do you mean she's "not in Macondo"?

She decided to become a cloistered nun,
and I wasn't about to oppose her decision.

No, Meme wouldn't have left
without telling me.

She didn't tell you
because you weren't here.

Just like you weren't here to comfort her

when that laborer she fell in love with
was shot for stealing our chickens.

What are you talking about, Fernanda?

Where the hell is my daughter?

She's somewhere better now,
and she'll never come back.

SAINT TERESA OF LA COLINA

Deep down,
Aureliano Segundo did not believe

the evidence was legitimate.

Just like he never believed

that Mauricio Babilonia had gone
into the yard to steal chickens.

But seeing his daughter's signature
helped ease his conscience.

And so he was able to return
without remorse

to the shadow of Petra Cotes.

You have all taken this business
way too far.

The national government wants to avoid
irreparable damage to the area.

So then let the government come
and negotiate our list of demands.

I'll bring the government representatives�

but you and your workers

will end the vandalism.

That'll depend on how much longer
the government makes us wait.

And we don't want any more of
your false promises.

My brothers!

The government has made a decision.

They're going to negotiate
the petition of demands,

and the representatives
will arrive on Friday!

We did it! Yeah!

Yes, sir! We did it, brother!

United we stand!

United!

Only eight hours! Only eight hours!

Only eight hours! Only eight hours!

Only eight hours! Only eight hours!

THE STRIKE IS THE WORKER'S VOICE

Toward noon,

while they waited for a train
that would never arrive,

more than 3,000 people,
workers, women, and children,

overwhelmed the station square

and crowded the surrounding streets.

Brothers!

Today's a day of celebration!

A historic day!

We've forced the company
to acknowledge us.

Long live organized labor!

To the Union!

-United we stand!
-United!

Only eight hours! Only eight hours!

You tie it like this up here.

See?

And you go� upwards like that.

Not too hard and not too soft.

Because this top�

Has to dance.

Yes, it has to dance. Very good.

Finger.

There you go. Nice job.

Oh, it's a glorious day.

-They will meet our demands.
-They need to recognize us.

Hey, Jos� Arcadio.

They're saying no trains
have arrived in Ci�naga all day

and that the next one leaves tomorrow.

That doesn't make any sense.

If no trains were coming from the capital,
we'd know by now.

Well, yeah.

What about General Cort�s Vargas?

Not a single person leaves
till they arrive.

Yeah, you got it.

Attention!

Attention! Silence!

Silence, please!

-Where is General Vargas?
-Sir?

-Silence!
-Could you put him on your shoulders?

He doesn't wanna miss anything.

I'm going to read you a message.

Many years later,

although no one believed him,

that same child would go on
to tell the story

of how he saw the lieutenant
reading through a gramophone horn,

decree number four of the civil
and military chief of the province.

Carlos Cort�s Vargas

and his secretary,
Major Enrique Garc�a Isaza.

"Article one."

"Those who have organized
and incited the strike

are hereby declared a gang of criminals."

Criminals, how?

"You are hereby informed
that the strike is declared illegal."

The government needs to face us!

What you're doing to us is illegal!

We deserve respect, assholes!

Only eight hours! Only eight hours!

Only eight hours!

Only eight hours!

-Only eight hours!
-Order!

Only eight hours!

I'm here to let you know, moving forward,

that martial law is in place here!

Long live the workers' union!

Public demonstrations are forbidden,

and these soldiers
are thus authorized to fire

at any person
who refuses to leave the area!

-Cowards!
-Respect the workers!

We're not going anywhere!

�united will never be defeated!

The people united will never be defeated!

The people united will never be defeated!

The people united�

Ladies and gentlemen�

you have five minutes to clear the area.

Let's go.

I wouldn't put it past these bastards.

Your five minutes are up.

One remaining minute until we fire!

Intoxicated by the tension,

by the marvelous depth� of the silence,

and convinced that no one would be able
to move that death-fascinated crowd,

Jos� Arcadio Segundo raised his voice.

You vultures!

You can keep your last minute
and go fuck off!

Fire!

It was as though the machine guns

had been loaded with pyrotechnic trickery,

for there was not the slightest reaction,

not a voice, not even a sigh.

Lord have mercy!

Jos� Arcadio Segundo
looked with horror at all of the dead men�

the dead women, and the dead children�

who were on their way
to be dumped into the sea

like rejected bananas.

He leaped into the darkness

and stayed there, crouched in the dirt
until the train had passed.

It was the longest train he had ever seen.

It carried no lights

and glided through the night
with a stealthy silence

toward the very same sea
where almost a century earlier,

his great-grandfather
Jos� Arcadio Buend�a's dreams

had met their ruin.

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