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DURING READING
Names/Nombres
A Personal Essay by Julia Alvarez
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W
hen we arrived in New York City, our names changed almost
immediately. at Immigration, the officer asked my father,
Mister Elbures, if he had anything to declare. my father shook his
head no, and we were waved through.
I was too afraid we wouldn’t be let in if I corrected the man’s
pronunciation, but I said our name to myself, opening my mouth
wide for the organ blast of the a, trilling my tongue for the drumroll
of the r, All-vah-rrr-es! How could anyone get Elbures out of that
orchestra of sound?
at the hotel my mother was Missus Alburest, and I was little girl,
as in, “Hey, little girl, stop riding the elevator up and down. It’s not a
toy.”
When we moved into our apartment building, the super called
my father Mister Alberase, and the neighbors who became mother’s
194
“Say your
name in
Spanish,
oh, please
say it!”