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The
House was in the middle of the block. If you left it to your right, you
would soon find El Carol Morgan, the school where Amricans, children of
the Dominican oligarchy (born and raised in Santo Domingo but with their
eyes on the prize) attended classes. I remember we were fascinated by
the forbidden aspect of it. It was surrounded by high fences. In its yard,
brownish pine trees has replaced the hibiscus and bougainvilles of other
neighborhood homes. Certainly the majestic palm trees lining George Washington
Avenue, el Malecon, just two blocks wawy, had not folund their way to
the proud and forbidding doors of El Carol Morgan.
We often left the house to our right, as we made our way to ur favorite
place inthe whole wide world those days, el Parque de Ramfis , known today
as el Parque de Hostos, after Trujillo’s oldest son and the rest
of el Generalisimo’s family were forced to vacate their tropical
paradise. I realize now that its democratic element must have been its
most appealing element to me. Only in the park could I forget my dainty
niña de la casa ways and shove and push as I played the trompa,
a gyrating contraption that could trun as fast as you pushed it. And was
it ever pushed fast, usually by the maniceros and paleteros, vendor-children
who spent most of their time trying to sell the ware they carried on a
wooden tray, strapped around one shoulder by a leather belt.
El Parque Ramfis was a source of discovery and mystery. It was there that
neighborhood adolescents went to be kissed for the first time. It was
there that the sirvientas, experiencing a sense of temporary freedom,
became children again by joining our games on the slides or swings, or
turned adolescents who quietly whispered to their lovers, protected by
the shelter of a tropical almond tree.
In el Parque Ramfis there was mush to explore and to understand. It took
me a while to realize that the"house" whose doors were closed
to children and women was actually a reading library. I often asked Mama
Biela why. And she would answer, "Mi perla," as she would often
call me, since we both discovered the etymology of my name, "los
hombres son asi." It really doesn’t matter see how comfortable
it is to read here on this bench, feeling the sea breeze?"
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