Encounter in a Strange Country : Latinos: Spanish-speaking senior citizens gather once a week to talk about the past and help each other acclimate to American culture.

They came from countries far away, some fled for their lives. Now, they meet because they feel lost in a strange land--the San Fernando Valley.

About 40 Spanish-speaking senior citizens meet every Friday morning at the East Valley Multipurpose Center in North Hollywood to talk about their lives--good and bad, past and present.

“Most of the time, we talk of the past, we love the past,” said Daisy Lugo, who left Costa Rica in 1946 to study English and never returned.

One woman worries how her grandchildren talk back to her without respect. A man laments again about how he left everything behind when he escaped from his war-torn homeland.

“We come here to share our happy and unhappy moments,” said club President Raul Alacon through an interpreter. He has lived in the Valley for the 18 years since he fled Chile. He had an accident falling off his horse, lost the equestrian school he owned and suffered two crippling strokes, but he keeps his spirits up with friends at Encuentro Latino (which translates as “Latin Encounter”).

The meetings are dressy. Men wear suits and ties. Women are treated with the respect typical of the Latino tradition in their generation. An impeccably dressed husband-and-wife team of physicians who fled Cuba 28 years ago come to the meetings to advise friends about medical care and to reminisce.

“Fidel Castro must go out,” said Dr. Miguel Fuentes-Aguilera, sitting erect in his chair and looking at his wife.

“Then maybe, we go back,” Dr. Margot Fuentes-Aguilera said while she sadly showed friends the gold $5 Cuban coin she made into a necklace.

Members of the group range from illegal alien farmers to former government officials who have left Argentina, Bolivia, Chile, Cuba, Colombia, Costa Rica, Ecuador, El Salvador, Mexico, Nicaragua, Puerto Rico, Peru and the Philippines. About half of them have become American citizens. Many of them would someday like to go home again, or at least feel at home here.

“I left my Colombia, my family and I cry so much, so much depression,” said Georgina Martinez, 78, who moved here 15 years ago. “It was so beautiful, but now everyone takes care because somebody will kill you.”

Martinez now worries about relatives in Colombia. She also worries that her grandsons may run into trouble with gangs in the Valley.

The group tries to avoid politics, but inevitably their cultures clash and national pride causes lively debates.

“The president from Chile picks on my small country,” said Bilar Young, 62, a Cuban refugee whose son fought in the Bay of Pigs invasion. “Sometimes we have little wars here, but there are more Cubans in this group than anyone. Anyway, we are Americans first now.” Emilia Casanovas chokes up when she remembers the rich, lush mountains of Bolivia, saying, “I would like to go back to see my family.”

Learning English is the biggest problem for the group, but a language class formed by Encuentro Latino members eventually petered out for lack of interest. Most, like Filomena Medina, 73, taught themselves English.

“I write down every word I don’t know and learn it,” said Medina, who came from Puerto Rico decades ago when her daughter was only 6. Now, she won’t go to the meetings unless her daughter, Miriam Stern, comes with her.

“The elderly take time to make acquaintances, but this is good because they go on field trips together and talk about their different cultures,” said Stern, who helps out at the meetings. “The group is very traditional, very formal. That is how most of them have been brought up.”

Encuentro Latino was started 10 years ago by Theresa Chavez, a social worker with Jewish Family Services, who saw a need for Spanish-speaking people to help each other acclimate to American culture.

“They are intimidated by the strong and assertive ways of Americans, and they are angry when they are lumped together and all called Mexicans,” Chavez said.

“The Fourth of July is our biggest celebration because this is the ground we are now on,” said club secretary Elvira Rosas, an Argentine native who moved here 22 years ago. “For me, it is like therapy to come here.”

Members exchange information about government programs, nutrition and the latest news of their country. They trade shopping coupons, buy Lotto tickets together and share financial, medical and educational advice. Often, they are nostalgic.

At a recent meeting, they played the Mexican national anthem to commemorate a holiday and a few natives held their clenched fists across their chests. Tears streamed down the face of Elena Velasquez, who left Mexico 30 years ago.

“I miss my country,” she said.