A Perfect Silence by Alba Ambert

Author:Alba Ambert
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Arte Público Press
Published: 1995-10-15T00:00:00+00:00

Just as sunshine was a comfort, so was school. Antonio B. Caimary Junior High School stood wide and flat on the hill of Villa Palmeras. The facade was decorated with red bricks bearing the inscription in Spanish, There is no worse darkness than ignorance—Shakespeare. From the second floor one could see Eduardo Conde Avenue flanked by shops and congested with people and cars.

When Blanca registered in school, her sentence with her grandmother was shortened. She enjoyed classes and was especially pleased with her new language of learning. Until that time, her Spanish had been limited to the Spanish she heard around her, the Spanish spoken by persons with little or no formal education. Now she had teachers who spoke the language. She had never met a Puerto Rican teacher before, or a Puerto Rican physician, or a Puerto Rican attorney. When she walked down Eduardo Conde Avenue, she read signs on doctors’ offices, lawyers’ offices, pharmacists, all in Spanish and all Puerto Rican! For the first time, Blanca understood that she did not have to be Jewish or Irish or Chinese to be a doctor or a lawyer or a teacher or a pharmacist. She understood that in a leap she could arrive at a world of books, of ideas, that she too could have a sign with her name in big letters and diplomas inscribed in Latin hanging from her wall. If other Puerto Ricans had done it, then she could do it, too. What do you know? she thought. She was truly amazed.

During her first year in Puerto Rico, she struggled to progress in her maternal language. She acquired the Spanish rules of accentuation, broadened her vocabulary, and erased Spanglish from her lexicon. She discovered the cadence of its song, the melody of its rhythms, its semantic repository, the logic of its syntax. Blanca read El Sombrero de Tres Picos, El Final de Norma, La Carreta and she recited poems of redeemed lovers in her Spanish class. Language would never again be solely a tool for communication. Language became a refreshing balm—aromatic and strong—producing a pleasure so intense that she started talking to herself for the sheer pleasure of listening to it. She composed songs and wrote poems and stories. Divested of her usual diffidence, she chattered happily with her schoolmates and promptly became the school’s maven of the English language.

“Hey, americana, help me with this English lesson.” Pablo ran after Blanca, brushing his hair from his forehead.

“My name’s Blanca. I don’t like to be called americana.”

“Okay, okay,” Pablo acceded quickly. He was more interested in the knowledge Blanca could impart than in her name. Right now he would call her Queen Isabella if that was what she wanted.

“What’s the matter with the English lesson?”

“Can’t understand a thing. Mr. Ramos didn’t explain how to do this. Look.”

They sat under a guava tree. Blanca explained some of the mysteries of the English subjunctive, and slowly the fog of concern lifted from Pablo’s brow. He took a ripe guava that

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