Thursday, June 7, 2012

#13 - Loving Elsa

I had a teacher. A mechanical engineer, born in 1932 (like my mother). Taught Mathematics, Group Theory, Algebra, Trigonometry and Differential Calculus. Pretty impressive, huh? I always got high grades. Not because I understood abstract mathematical concepts, but because I could memorize. Algebraic formulas were easy for me to memorize; once I had that down applying it to a problem was as we say in Spanish “pan comido” (eaten bread). I so much liked these classes that I was very tempted and seriously considered Mathematics as a college major. But the question of how far I could go on memory alone, made me doubt myself and I stopped pondering that option.

Oh but that didn’t stop me from developing a crush on my teacher, forget that she was a woman. Elsa Moyado was her name. At my very first class with her I immediately felt I was in front of a homosexual woman. Why? Everything about her reminded me of Terry, a white character in an English-language novel I had read earlier who was a lesbian and fell in love with a talented pianist, a beautiful black woman, character whose name I can’t recall.

The title of my book was Loving Her. It was the first time ever that I heard about homosexualism, at least to the point that I became aware of human beings falling for people of their own gender. When I read on the backcover that a She was loving a Her, I thought it was a typo.

So Elsa reminded me of Terry. Elsa wasn’t blatantly masculine, but whatever femininity she had was a bit virile. She was not a vain person. Her hair was already silvery. Silver and wavy. Short. Her skin was pale and translucent. She wasn’t overweight nor was she thin, but somehow the word stocky comes to mind. Very simple in her way of dressing. Always in pants and tops. No high heels or makeup; very occasionally maybe a smudge of pink lipstick. There was an endearing gap between her two top teeth that gave her smile a mischievous expression.

We clicked, but I must admit that I worked harder than her at our friendship, after all she was the teacher. She read and photography was her biggest hobby. She still lived with her parents, had a younger brother whom I believe is a lawyer, Carlos. She absolutely loved traveling. She was a world traveler. In the course of her life she had found a friend with whom she traveled. I always thought she was in love with this woman.

Elsa was extremely private and quiet. It was not easy to hold a conversation with her. By the time she was no longer my teacher, every now and then I would visit her at her home.

When I got married the first time, she accepted to be one of my witnesses (we did not have a religious ceremony). She showed up in her regular simple attire (I loved her for that) and with her camera.

With the pictures she took of Alejandro and I, she made a photo album she gave to me (something I treasure and still have).

When I came back to the States, I would write to her and sometimes call her. When she found out that I had a postcard collection of antique dolls (a gift from my second husband), she started taking photos of the dolls she bought as souvenirs from her trips around the world. She would pose them on a bed with a white background and mail them to me. She sent me maybe six photos in all and I framed them as a set and today they’re hanging on the hall that goes to my bedroom.

She was not a constant pen pal. By the time I found out about her passing, a couple of years had already passed. I found a notice on a newspaper announcing her death.

I miss my teacher. I miss her dry wit and scientific, cool mind. She was a sensitive woman, born maybe too early given the intolerant, vicious and cruel race we still are. She had a sweet and respectful soul, and a noble heart. If she was a lesbian, she probably lived a life of quiet and dignified self-denial. I hope she had the secret audacity to find in her traveling mate some semblance of love and intimacy.

And if after death her rambling spirit lived on, I hope she made it to the pyramids in Egypt, one of the few places she had yet to visit.

She never traveled to the United States. I do not know if that was for political and social reasons, but I do know that is was very much on purpose.

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