A New Course in the Life of an Immigrant Girl
HAVANA TIMES — The school year does not begin on the same day in all the states of Brazil. In many it starts on February 5, in others earlier, and in the case of Paraná, it began on the 10th.
My daughter, who has been living in this country for barely three years and arrived when she was two, is going to be taught to read and write here, in Portuguese.
Starting today she will receive a barrage of information about this country—its laws, its idiosyncrasies. She will sing the beautiful Brazilian national anthem and will never salute the flag or sing the Cuban anthem, unless one day we return to Cuba.
Now she will be a little Brazilian and a little Cuban, but never completely one thing or the other.
Because inside our home is our country. Only Spanish is spoken; Cuban jokes are told; words like “sopapo,” “bonche,” “carmelita,” “choteo,” “inflando” are used. Phrases like “le zumba el mango,” “cogiendo pá eso,” “estar en talla,” and so on are part of daily speech.
Outside the home, however, is Brazil and the Brazilian jeito.
The education system in this country often ranks in the lower third internationally. There have been improvements in access, but there are marked limitations in quality.
Quality in the southern states, as is the case with Paraná, is higher. Even so, it receives a lot of internal criticism.
We will have to teach our daughter to read and write in Spanish so she does not lose her roots, her language, just in case one day Cuba is free and we wanted to return. Or if one day we had the divine mission of going back.
There is also the possibility—Brazilians fear it—that this country could end up like Venezuela, in which case we would try to emigrate again to some Spanish-speaking country. In any case, we consider it vital to safeguard our little girl’s roots.
I was at work on my daughter’s first day of school. She was accompanied only by her mother. In this country it is just the three of us.
Us—and God. May He guide our course.