Language Statistics Overlook Nuances

When the news broke last week that Santa Ana had the highest concentration of Spanish-speaking people in the nation, some residents imagined reactionary murmurs from outside: “They are taking over.”

But the new Census Bureau survey--in which 74% of the city’s residents said they speak Spanish and 15% of those 18 to 64 said they spoke no English--was a stark, connect-the-dots silhouette of a city whose full portrait is far more nuanced.

To discover Santa Ana’s linguistic ebbs and flows, you need to go to the Martinez Book store on Main Street. When it opened nine years ago, sales were 75% English books; today they are 85% Spanish.

The store is three businesses in one--bookstore, art gallery and barbershop--and is one of the few places in town where people of all backgrounds rub shoulders. Immigrant arrivals find their way here, as do book lovers from all over Orange County--particularly when major authors such as Carlos Fuentes and Isabel Allende have signings.

Prominently displayed at the entrance is a worldwide craze that knows no boundaries: “Harry Potter y La Camara Secreto” (the Chamber of Secrets) and “Harry Potter y el Caliz de Fuego” (Goblet of Fire).

“I wonder how people in Newport Beach feel when Santa Ana is listed as the city where the most people speak Spanish,” said the store’s gregarious, politically savvy owner, Reuben Martinez. “They probably think it’s an invasion.” His voice fills with mock reassurance: “No, we’re not taking over. This is still America, and people come here to be Americans.”

The store is a big, bright splash of color. Vivid paintings by international and local artists line the walls, love seats invite readers to sit, and coffee percolates.

At lunchtime, Jack O’Brien, 45, an attorney representing plaintiffs in product liability and medical malpractice, stopped by for a shave. The barbershop is in a separate parlor, attracting local lawyers, politicians and business owners who come to hear Martinez’s take on life.

O’Brien tried to talk about working in Santa Ana while Martinez plied an electric razor around his chin. He does not speak any Spanish, he said--except maybe a word here and there.

“You don’t need Spanish to get around, although if you walk along the street you do hear a lot of Spanish,” O’Brien said. When Spanish-speaking clients come to him, they somehow manage to communicate. They find some English, he pulls out his few Spanish words and co-workers help out.

A car salesman browsing in another corner of the store, Margarito Cruz, said he does not speak English. Holding a book by inspirational author Og Mandino, Cruz, who arrived from Oaxaca, Mexico, eight years ago, said that in Santa Ana he does not need a second language.

Eventually, however, Cruz acknowledged that he does know un poquito (just a little) English. And with more prodding, “just a little” turns out to be perfectly serviceable, if halting, English.

“When I say that I don’t speak English, I mean that I don’t speak it very well,” he clarified. “I make a lot of mistakes, and it can be embarrassing.” He would rather say he does not speak English at all than give the mistaken impression that he is fluent.

Many Actually Can Speak Some English

This is a subtlety beyond the grasp of last week’s Census Bureau survey of 700,000 Americans, in which 15% of Santa Ana residents--nearly four times the statewide percentage--told the government they did not speak English.

In interviews throughout Santa Ana, the oversimplified, all-or-nothing response given by Cruz was common. In grocery stores, bakeries and gas stations, many Spanish speakers categorically denied that they spoke English. Yet with some urging, some level of English ability almost always became apparent.

Many either had taken English classes or were currently enrolled. Orange County’s community centers and churches are filled to the limit as they try to meet the demand for English classes.

A block south of the Martinez Book store, Lisa and Jason Zhang, who emigrated 10 years ago from China, said they too had planned to learn English. But now they find Spanish is the handier language, and they struggle to speak both.

“I know how to say shrimp; it’s camaron, and fish is pescado,” said Lisa Jhang. “Que quieres? is ‘What do you want?’ ” she added. “We hear more English during lunchtime, when the business people come in,” Zhang said. “But dinner is all Spanish.”

That 74% of the people in Santa Ana speak Spanish is a social and economic statement more than a commentary on demographics, said Leah Smith at the Catholic Worker, which feeds and shelters hundreds of homeless people each year in a dilapidated manse on North Cypress Street.

“There are two identities here,” Smith said. “There is basic Latino Santa Ana and then Anglo Santa Ana. “People live in different worlds and we don’t come together as much as we could.”

Smith speaks what she calls “present-tense Spanish,” and her husband, Dwight, is fluent. “Does living in Santa Ana mean you have to know Spanish?” she asked. “No. It means you want to know Spanish. I mean, if you fell in love with someone and they spoke another language, wouldn’t you try to learn it?”

Big Changes in the City Since 1984

Once it was the other way around.

When William H. Spurgeon from Kentucky rode through on horseback in October 1869, he plowed his way through fields of mustard plants. Ultimately he paid $595 for 74.2 acres that had been part of Rancho Santiago de Santa Ana. From that time until the early 1980s, Santa Ana was majority white.

Latinos became the majority sometime around 1984, and by 1990 they made up 63.9% of the population. By 2000 the city was 70.9% Latino. (Measuring the recent growth in Spanish-language use is not possible because the Census Bureau survey used different methodology than the 1990 Census. Comparable results from Census 2000 have not been released.)

The transition from majority white to majority Latino was not always smooth; race-related fights between white and Latino youths were common in the schools before the city tipped and Latinos became a solid majority.

Two years ago, however, Santa Ana schools became the most homogeneous in Orange County, edging out mostly white Laguna Beach, the perennial winner. The dwindling diversity prompted the county Human Relations Commission to swing into action and set up a cultural exchange for students from the two communities.

Santa Ana’s Floral Park neighborhood above 17th Street, with stylish homes and avenues of ancient trees, is still primarily white. South of 17th Street, however, business signs address the majority of the city’s residents. Here, as in an ever-increasing number of California communities, shingles typically carry words in both languages: Abogado/Lawyer or Impuestos/Taxes. Only the most obvious are left untranslated, such as Dentista or Clinica.

Even the Spanish-speaking community can be a confusing multitude of national and regional vocabularies and dialects.

Though pavo is one Spanish word for turkey, guajolote is more common in Mexico and chompipe is used in El Salvador. Corn is called maiz in some countries, but when cooked it is called choclos in others. Avocados are paltas in some places and aguacates in others. A chili can be a cool green bell pepper, not the fiery jalapeno.

At Ruben’s Bakery on 1st Street the day before Thanksgiving, Jesus Martinez juggled dozens of requests from clients who often knew what they wanted but not what it was called in his shop.

“Do you have piedritas?” A woman asked. But she couldn’t describe them and Martinez was not sure what they were.

He sighed.

“Ninety-five percent of our customers speak Spanish, but . . . sometimes I have no idea what the words mean.”