Esther's Story, Part 2

Here are more translated memories from my grandmother, now age 96, picking up where we left off:

These are distant memories that are conserved in my mind, although many can't believe it. I was baptized at age six months at the Church of the Ascension in Jovellanos by the priest, Pedro Pablo Gratton. My parents were there, and my uncle Jose Martinez, married to my Aunt Lucila; also, my Aunt Ofelia. The driver who took us to Jovellanos was Rafael Rodriguez, who everyone knew as Nené. After some years had passed, Nené told me about the day of my baptism. In later years, Nené worked for the administrator Eligio Suarez, as a substitute driver for Cejas. I can still imagine Cejas, skinny, with black hair. It was an open air car from 1920. The main office of Soledad [referred to as El Central Soledad] was American property; it belonged to the Compañia Azucarena Atlantica del Golf (a sugar mill). All the employees were paid in dollars.

Esther Quintero Jimenez,
 the author of these stories

The house given to my father was, upon entering the sugar mill through a wide entryway, located on the right. There were four little houses; the fronts of two little chalets were seen when going to the sugar mill, and two wooden houses, one smaller than the other in front of ours, but also beside it, on another little path. We lived in one of the little chalets, with a long, wood porch. There was a door and a railing at four or five steps that led to a little stone path. There were gardens beside the houses. We were separated by beautiful gardens from the road that led to the entrance of the sugar mill, and in their plants and flowers was a statue of a man, I never knew whom.

To the right of our house, coming down from the porch, was a bent coconut tree. Florinda, a very light-skinned mulatta who worked in our home, would take us down the stairs every afternoon, and I remember perfectly how we would shout, "Mama, we're going to the bent coconut tree!" For us, it was a big trip.

In back of the little houses was a large cement area of water pipes that were used during the hours of operation of the sugar mill. It was huge, all cement, and surrounded by tall walls. It was square, and on the cement floor, there were tall blocks, each one with four or five large pipes that turned very fast, putting out warm mist. That water would go all the way to the yard of the little chalets, but it was a small amount and caused no harm. When the period of work at the mill ended for short times, everything was dry, and children would go to that area to play.

All my life I have remembered that at only age four, I dreamed that a barrel was in the yard of my house. In my dream, I saw it full of water, and the little heads of my sisters, Cleofé and Olga, with their bows in their hair, floating in that water.

Little Cleofé and Olga with their mother.
Notice their hair bows!

There were two other small, short houses, which were the first ones on the right, as one entered the way to the mill. I remember that in the smaller one lived two little girls, like us. One was named Wilda, and the other Sobeida la Roque. I don't remember their parents or anything else about them, but I still remember them as if I could see them. In the other house lived a couple with a daughter named Emelina Zubirats; she had black, straight hair and bangs. Cleofé remembered more about those people, and told me that Emelina's mother would take them for walks. One day it started to rain and the mother said, "Cleofé, walk faster," and Cleofé's feet hurt terribly from walking so fast.

Next time, we will hear about the baptism and birth of other Quintero siblings. It is my goal to translate each page that my grandmother typed, but it is slow going. Cuban Spanish is full of colloquialisms and expressions that can be difficult to translate, so it takes time.