© Eleanor Parker Sapia
My novel, A Decent Woman, set in turn of the
nineteenth century Puerto Rico, begins in turbulent 1900—two years after the United
States invasion on the shores of Guanica, Puerto Rico and a year after the San
Ciriaco hurricane devastated the Caribbean island.
Brief synopsis of A Decent Woman:
Ponce, Puerto Rico: A Decent Woman is
the story of Ana Belén, a black Cuban born into slavery, who despite hiding a
tempestuous past, becomes a proud midwife in La Playa de Ponce, Puerto Rico,
where she meets sixteen-year old Serafina. After the widowed Serafina marries into a
prominent Ponce family, a crime against Serafina will forever bond her to Ana
in an ill-conceived plan to avoid a scandal and preserve Serafina’s honor and
her new marriage.
Set against the combustive backdrop
of a chauvinistic society where women are treated as possessions, A Decent
Woman is the provocative story of two women as they battle for their dignity
and for love against the pain of betrayal and social change.
At the
beginning of the second decade of U.S. rule in Puerto Rico, after the invasion
of the island in 1898, women of differing social classes began demanding the
right to vote and black Puerto Ricans protested against racism and repression
across the island. In 1917, the United States entered World War I and ‘granted’
Puerto
Ricans citizenship with the Jones Act and Puerto Rican men entered the conflict
in Europe. English was decreed the official language on an island with a
majority of native Spanish speakers.
Gripped in
an economic crisis, thousands of Puerto Ricans fled to the United States in
search of work, and on the island, thousands fled the mountains to the coastal
towns in search of work. A seamstress in a Puerto Rican sweatshop could earn
one dollar a day while the same work done at home earned her a few cents a
day. Between planting and harvest times
of coffee and sugarcane, farmers and laborers were laid off without a salary;
many died of hunger and disease. By 1917, women had joined the workforce as
tobacco strippers, hatmakers, seamstresses, coffee shellers, laundresses, and
embroiderers, and soon demanded fair treatment, higher wages, and protection
against managerial sexual and physical abuse.
“Petitions from people
begging for work or the funds to emigrate flooded the governor’s office. Many
Puerto Ricans faced starvation, especially in the countryside. Suicides of
working people were reported daily in Ponce newspapers.”
“A year later, ten thousand Puerto
Rican laborers held the First Congress of Women Workers, where in addition to
the aforementioned, they evoked the rights of every women and her family to
have ‘a comfortable and healthy home’, insisted on the implementation of
universal women’s suffrage, and called for a special session of the legislature
to address the women’s concerns.” Imposing Decency: The Politics of Sexuality
and Race in Puerto Rico, 1970-1920 by Eileen Findlay.
Ponce,
Puerto Rico, my home town, was the birthplace of the first organization of
feminist activism, La Liga Femínea,
and became an important center for feminists. After Prohibition began, upper
and middle class Puerto Rican women began focusing on themes of decency and
indecency in their communities by forming moral reform projects, such as the
protection of children of working class mothers. Society women with new public roles began
defining motherhood and familial relations of Puerto Ricans, and during this
time, many children were taken away from their mothers and raised by “proper families”.
The society women, white women, early feminists, believed that with proper
education and guidance, their black and mulatto working sisters could be
reformed and turned into proper women of society. Of course, the feminists
would decide when and if that happened.
Middle class
and upper class women then joined forces with the Protestant clergy and when
the government prohibited the making and sale of alcohol, prostitution was also
outlawed. These were lean times for women who were finding it difficult to
feed, house, and clothe themselves and their children; yet, the United States
Army encouraged the women entering the training camps on the island to
entertain the soldiers, and still, Puerto Rican men slept with women other than
their wives, playing woman against the other woman.
The early
feminists were not dissuaded and the second anti-prostitution campaign began
with the arrests of women suspected of prostitution, and the arrests of couples
for living together without a marriage license. Jails and prisons were built to
house the “wayward” women in an attempt to clean up the streets, combat
venereal disease, and help preserve “la sagrada familia.”
On October
11, 1918, an earthquake occurred, with an approximate magnitude of 7.5 on the
Richter scale, which was accompanied by a tsunami, which reached 19.5 feet
high. Like Hurricane San Ciriaco, again the island suffered with death,
devastation, and chaos. The tremors continued for several weeks.
Excerpt:
CHAPTER 21
La Cárcel de Mujeres ~ The Women’s Jail
The morning
after the Worker’s Ball, Ana and Emilia found María’s bed hadn’t been slept in,
and none of the neighbors had seen their friend. Ana didn’t relish setting foot
in the police station, and hoped the Chief of Police she’d met was on duty, not
Officer Pérez. When the women arrived at the jail, they were directed to a
young man in uniform, who didn’t look old enough to shave. Ana pulled Emilia
aside. “Let me do the talking, Emilia. Please, say nothing.” They approached
the desk. “I’m looking for María Santiago. She would have been brought here
last night.”
The young
man scrolled down a list of names. “M. Santiago. She was taken to the new
women’s jail on the outskirts of town—the one they finished before the Fiestas.
Good thing, too; we’re at full capacity here.”
“If you would
kindly give us the directions, we will be on our way,” Ana said, sneaking a
sideways glance at Emilia, who was trying to read the list from where she
stood. Ana wondered who else might have been taken by the police the previous
evening. The young man drew a crude map of the new facility, and handed it to
Ana. “Thank you. We’d best be on our way,” she said. As the women turned to
leave, the man blew Emilia a kiss, which Emilia ignored.
“Pig,” she
said when they were outside. “Makes me want to quit and go straight.”
“Then why
don’t you?” said Ana, in an irritated tone. “Get out of the business, Emilia.
Nothing good can come from selling yourself.”
“I need the
money, but as soon as I save up enough, I’m out.”
“Just don’t
wait too long, my friend. You and María deserve a better life.”
“I don’t
know what we deserve anymore, but I think we’re getting what we deserve now.”
The new
women’s jail was an imposing, single-story, cement box with bars covering
narrow windows. Inside a high fence, women walked in a circle as guards
patrolled the perimeter. Ana and Emilia approached the fence, hoping to see
María.
“I don’t see
her,” said Emilia, craning her neck for a better view.
“Me neither.
I’ve never been to a jail before, have you?”
“I was
arrested once for propositioning a gentleman but only spent the night in the
town hall jail. This here is serious business.”
Emilia
approached a young woman smoking a cigarette, and Ana followed. “Nena, do you know a María? María
Santiago. She was brought in last night.”
The woman behind
the fence countered, “Do you have a cigarette?”
Emilia
offered a cigarette through the fence but didn’t let it go when the young woman
reached for it. “I’ll give it to you for information.”
“Yeah, we
met last night, but I haven’t seen her today. Maybe she’s in the clinic; check
with the guard over there,” she said, pointing to a guard shack at the end of
the fence. Emilia let go of the cigarette.
“The clinic?
Oh my God, Ana, let’s go.” They asked a female guard about María, and were told
she was being held for further testing. “Testing for what?” asked Emilia.
“Are you
family?” asked the guard, eyeing them up and down.
“No, we’re
close friends of Miss Santiago,” Ana said, offering the woman a few coins as a
bribe.
“Well, if
your friend is found to have a venereal disease, she’ll probably be transferred
to another clinic. They don’t allow visitors there,” the woman said in a dry
voice. Out of nowhere Emilia began to cry, which surprised Ana. Emilia’s crying
grew louder until the woman whispered, “Listen, I’m not supposed to give you
any information, but your friend is being evaluated in the clinic—the building
in back. My friend is working that shift. You can’t miss her; her thick
spectacles make her eyes look enormous. Tell her Alicia sent you. She’ll let
you in for a quick visit if your friend is still there.”
“Thank you,”
said Emilia, drying her eyes. Ana and Emilia raced to the door marked “Clinic.”
“By the way,
I know you and María are close, but what was that all about?”
Emilia
grinned, “We got in, didn’t we?” Emilia knocked sharply on the door, and a
woman who fit the guard’s description opened it. Ana spoke first. “Alicia sent
us. We’re looking for our friend, María Santiago.”
“Alicia.”
The woman snorted. “That figures. She’s got a soft heart, that one. Who are you
looking for?”
“María
Santiago. Is she here?”
“Yes, she’s
here. She’s in examination room number one; follow me. I have to warn you,
though. Your friend was pretty drunk and mouthy when she was brought to the
jail. Pérez and his crony got a little rough with her when she didn’t
cooperate.”
Ana’s heart
froze. “What did they do to her?” asked Emilia, a little louder than Ana had
hoped.
The woman
answered tersely, “If she was doing something illegal, then it’s her own fault
she’s in here. That’s the way it goes.”
Ana squeezed
Emilia’s arm, knowing her temper. “Please let us see our friend. We all make
mistakes,” Ana said, not wanting to antagonize the young woman in any way, but
feeling Emilia’s urgency, as well. “We don’t have much time.”
“Follow me,
but make it quick. Officer Pérez is making his rounds.” Fear gripped Ana when
she heard the name and she prayed they wouldn’t run into the man. When the
guard opened the door of the examination room, they saw a woman lying on a low
bed, facing the wall. Ana immediately recognized the dress María had worn the
night before. She and Emilia approached the cot. “They’ve tested your friend
for syphilis; they do that to all the women.”
“María,
María?” Emilia whispered, tapping the woman’s arm. María sprang to a sitting
position, with deep fear in her eyes, and hugged her knees. Ana was startled by
what she saw. María’s dress hung off her left shoulder and was missing several
buttons. Her hair, usually worn pulled back, was wild and loose, and her
make-up was smeared.
“It’s us;
Ana and Emilia! What have they done to you?”
The guard
kept watch at the door, looking down the hallway in both directions, “Hurry!”
“Ay bendito, María. We’re here,” Emilia said, sitting on the cot. María started
to cry, and allowed Emilia to put her arm around her.
María’s eyes
suddenly grew large. “Get me out of here, please.”
Ana knew the
medical staff wouldn’t allow them to take María home until the test results
came back. She had to distract María. “What happened to you, nena?” As the question came out of Ana’s
mouth, she realized she didn’t want to know.
María
composed herself enough to speak. “I honestly don’t remember what happened. I
was drunk and tired, and they let me sleep it off. Then I was in here, and
examined by a devil with dirty instruments that I’m sure he doesn’t use on
decent women. I was so humiliated,” María sobbed.
“Was he a
doctor?” María nodded. At that moment, Ana wanted the gods to send peace to
María, and much suffering to whoever hurt her.
As if
reading Ana’s mind, Emilia hissed, “This man should be made to watch his women
suffer.”
“Are you
taking me home?” asked María in a childlike voice. “Can I go now? Is that why
you’re here, to take me home?”
Ana and
Emilia looked at each other. Ana was uncertain of what to tell her, and it was
Emilia who spoke up. “María, they’ve tested you for syphilis.”
María’s
voice became shrill. “But, I don’t have that! You know me, Emilia. Tell them
I’m clean; I want to go home! Ana, you tell them.”
“María,
listen,” said Ana, taking her by the shoulders. “We’ll find the doctor. You
stay here and stay calm, all right?”
“Ana’s
right; we have to find the doctor.”
“Okay, I’ll
rest. I’m so tired.” María lay down facing the wall, and closed her eyes. Ana
found it incredibly difficult to leave the cell when the female guard urged
them to hurry.
“Béstias,” hissed Emilia as they followed
the guard down a narrow corridor. “We have to get her out of here. She won’t
make it in this place with these beasts.”
“I know, I
know, Emilia. Please be polite with the doctor for María’s sake!” When the
guard opened a door, Pérez was sitting at a desk, reading a newspaper.
“Shit,”
murmured Emilia, “Now what do we do?” Ana watched the guard slink out of the
room without saying a word.
Pérez looked
up when the women approached, and eyed them suspiciously. “I know you. So,
you’re not a prostitute, eh, Doña?” he said to Ana. “Well, if you’re not, what
are you doing in the company of this puta?”
Ana
controlled herself, and squeezed Emilia’s arm as a reminder to remain calm. “We
want to see the doctor who examined María Santiago. Where can we find him?”
“Santiago?
Hmm, I seem to recall that name,” he said, and then yawned. “That would have
been Doctór Toro. He happens to be in his office right now, second door on the
left,” he pointed down the hall. “Good luck, girls. Tell María I said hello.”
“Hijo de la gran puta,” Emilia cursed
under her breath. They found the doctor eating at a desk, in desperate need of
a napkin as he bit into a chicken leg. His lips and chin shone with greasy
tomato sauce as he looked at them through thick eyeglasses perched on his
bulbous nose. He seemed surprised to see them.
“What do you
need?”
“Are you
Doctór Toro?”
“Yes, I am,”
he said, finally wiping his mouth.
“We are…I
mean, this is María Santiago’s sister,” Ana said, pointing at Emilia, knowing
he wouldn’t speak to them if one of them wasn’t a family member. You examined
her last night.” Ana couldn’t tell whether he remembered María or not. “Do you
remember her?”
“Yes, yes,
what about her?”
Ana
continued in a terse tone she couldn’t control, “Have you already taken blood
samples?”
“Yes, I
have,” he said, visibly irritated. “Look, if you want the results, you’ll have
to wait outside. Who are you again?”
“This is
María’s sister. We’ll be outside. Thank you, Doctór.” Ana pushed Emilia out the
door.
“Do you
think she has syphilis? What’ll we do if the results are positive?”
Ana shook
her head. “I don’t know, Emilia, but let’s not lose hope until the results come
back. It’s all in God’s hands now.” Despite the cold, metal chairs they sat on,
Emilia soon fell asleep against Ana’s shoulder. Ana sat quietly, invoking all
the gods and goddesses to protect María, and as she prayed, her eyes grew
heavy. The women were roused by a nurse, who ushered them into the doctor’s
office.
“Your friend
is clean. No infectious disease,” said the doctor to no one in particular. Ana
hated his use of the word “clean”. He put down the file, and looked at the
Emilia. “We encouraged your sister to undergo sterilization. She did very
well.”
Emilia’s jaw
dropped. “What?” She looked at Ana, who was sure they were thinking the same
thing—María would have never have submitted to sterilization.
“She is
being released now,” Del Toro said, signing a paper on his desk. “Wait for her
at the front gate.” The doctor turned back to the paperwork on his desk, and
then looked up. “That is all,” he said, looking surprised that Ana and Emilia
were still standing in his office.
“Where is
her signed consent?” Ana was amazed at her presence of mind in light of the
shocking news, and Emilia’s face echoed her sentiment. The doctor rifled
through the papers on his desk, and produced the one María had signed.
Emilia
leaned over the desk. “I don’t believe this. María wanted children; I know
this. You must have tricked her into signing! She must have been drunk, because
she never would have signed this sober!”
“Your sister
is a single, working woman with no husband,” he said to Emilia. “Who would have
taken care of her children while she worked the streets? You? Ponce has too
many street urchins as it is. Like hundreds of other women, your sister doesn’t
use birth control. She wasn’t the first, and she certainly won’t be the last
woman to be sterilized in this city.”
“¡Abusadór! She probably trusted you, and
you abused her innocence! You tricked my sister into signing. Who are you to
deny her rights as a woman? You will rot in Hell for what you’ve done to her.”
“We are
doing what needs to be done.”
Ana
restrained Emilia as she reached for a heavy-looking paperweight sitting on the
doctor’s desk, knowing what direction she would have thrown it. The paperweight
would have knocked some sense in the man, but it would have also landed Emilia
in jail. “Let’s take María home, Emilia. We’re finished here.”
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