Memories of Canada

Once I got through the trauma of being an immigrant's daughter, Canada became a loveable country. My first school, St. Thomas Aquinas, St. Clair Avenue, Toronto was a bit of a nightmare because I didn't speak a word of English and I was the only Spanish-speaking student. I didn't understand anything and only the Italian children that were there could help me with some of the words. I remember the first day, when I needed to go to the washroom, I didn't know how to ask the teacher where it was and if I could go, so I wracked my brain and remembered in my father's english book, I had read the word "water closet" so in my best Spanish accent, I went up to the teacher and said: "vatercloset" and repeated it twice or three times. She looked puzzled but finally got the message so she asked another girl to show me the way. On the way, the girl , I presumed,asked me my name. My father had told me that I should say my name was "meri" (because my name actually is María de las Mercedes...) so I said "Meri", she answered: "ah Merry" and I said, no,no, "Meri" because "Mary" sounded so harsh that I couldn't hack it.

Sigo en español. Lo que cuento en inglés es mi primer dia de colegio en Canada cuando no sabía ni papa de inglés; yo era la única española y la única castellano-parlante, los niños italianos fueron los que me ayudaron a comprender algo. Mi primer dia de colegio quise ir al cuarto de baño, pero no sabía como se decía. Entonces me acordé que en el libro de inglés de mi padre vi la palabra "water closet" , por lo tanto me fuí hacia la maestra y en mi mejor acento español, le dije "vatercloset" dos o tres veces. Captó el mensaje; pidió a una niña que me acompañara. En el camino, pensé que me preguntaba cómo me llamaba, le dije "Meri" (que es lo que me había dicho mi padre que dijera), ella dijo "ah, Merry" no,no, le contesté: "Meri, Meri". La verdad es que "Mary" a la inglesa me sonaba fatal.