Breaking the language barrier

Before coming to America, they lived middle-class lives, working in well-established careers as accountants, politicians, lawyers and engineers. Here they work at menial jobs -- if they even can find those -- hoping to carve out a better life for themselves and their children. But one thing holds them back: language. One in five American residents speaks a language other than English at home, according to census data. And many of them are living in Cape Girardeau.

Many immigrant families have dual-language households because parents and grandparents speak the native tongue and children learn English at school.

Iara Vieira speaks Portuguese at home so that her daughter, Gabriela, 6, will learn both English and Portuguese.

"She speaks English better than Portuguese," said the Brazilian woman. "We speak Portuguese so she will learn."

Overcoming the language barrier can be the difference between survival and success for immigrants. Speaking English can land them a decent job where they can practice their speaking and learn about the culture; failing to speak it can be isolating.

The more a person speaks English instead of their native tongue, the quicker they will learn it, said Judy Peetz, ESL instructor at the Adult Learning Center in Cape Girardeau.

U.S. Census figures show that the number of foreign-language speakers grew from 25 percent to 50 percent in Missouri between 1990 and 2000. And, according to the Census Bureau, 65 percent of the foreign-born population in the U.S. speak English well or very well.

But many still struggle with the nuances of their new language.

Meet some area residents who primarily speak a language other than English in their homes. They come from the Philippines, Bulgaria and Moldova, a tiny country in Eastern Europe.

Esperanza and Artimo Aliman Filipino and Tagolog

As schoolchildren in the Philippines, Esper and Artimo Aliman learned English, but they spoke Filipino and Tagalog primarily. When they came to live in Cape Girardeau with their eldest daughter, Mara Aliman, seven months ago, they wanted to immerse themselves in the English language.

They attend twice-weekly classes in English as a Second Language, completing workbook assignments ahead of schedule because they are so eager to learn.

In the Philippines, Artimo, 71, was a farmer and owner of a convenience store that sold goods like those sold in a corner market or grocery in the United States. For 20 years he was a village politician in his region, Aloran.

"My wife says I was always working for the people," he said.

But sacrificing for his countryman was simple compared to the sacrifices required in moving to America, he said. They left family and friends, their home and farm to come here.

"We live here permanently," Esper said. "Because Mara was alone. We worried very much because she is very young."

Now the couple lives with their daughter and want to find jobs. And they know that speaking English well is crucial in their quest.

But even reading or speaking broken English is essential for daily living.

"It's not easy to look at something in the grocery if you don't know how to read and how to speak. It's hard to communicate with the people in the grocery," said Esper, 68.

Some things Americans take for granted -- reading package labels, street signs or maps -- are the most frustrating for people who primarily speak another language.

Vesko Georgiev

Bulgarian and Russian

A trip to the international market in St. Louis was like going home for Georgiev. There he found Bulgarian white cheese and a newspaper in his native tongue.

Although he has lived in America for several years, English is still a difficult language for Georgiev to speak and read. Aside from than the few times he attends classes at the Adult Learning Center, Georgiev doesn't have many opportunities to speak English.

"I speak more Bulgarian. That's what I understand," he said. His wife speaks four languages, and his children quickly learned English, but that's because they were immersed in the language.

His wife is a student at Southeast Missouri State University, and his children attend public schools. Georgiev works a night job and seldom sees other people at his workplace.

"We can't communicate with American people. Not speaking is the problem," he said. "We want to make a different life."

He spoke with a reporter in short, clipped sentences, pausing to think about the English words he was choosing. Occasionally he responded with a puzzled look and shrug of the shoulders, unsure how to properly answer.

In Bulgaria, Georgiev worked for 10 years in the law profession and hopes to study criminal justice or become a paralegal here. Until then, he continues to study and practice his English.Lana Vendina-Stacy

Moldovan, Russian, Ukranian

She had to learn Russian because it was the official language of her country, a former Soviet republic, but Ukranian was considered the more common language. Yet the Moldovan people had their own language, so Lana Vendina-Stacy knew three languages before trying to learn English.

Reading English is much easier than speaking it, said Vendina-Stacy, who has been in Cape Girardeau for a year.

She still speaks with a heavy accent, and there are some words that are hard for her to pronounce, but Vendina-Stacy is a good English speaker. And she often helps the other students in the classes at the Adult Learning Center.

"We are like a family," she said. "We take care of each other."

During a lesson, she might translate for her classmates who speak Russian so they can understand as well. Her English-speaking skills are more advanced because she speaks English at her job, where she helps to care for an elderly couple. But she converses in Moldovan with her sister, Luda, who also lives in Cape Girardeau.

Dimiter Georgiev

Bulgarian, Russian

In a family of students, Dimiter Georgiev is working hard at his studies. His mastery of the skill won't come in a written exam but in everyday life.

Georgiev is trying to learn English -- and it's been a struggle.

After 32 years, he left a job as an engineer in Sofia, Bulgaria's capital, to come to the United States two years ago. His wife is a student at Southeast Missouri State University; his daughters attend public school. They all speak better English than he.

So Dimiter continues his studies at the Adult Learning Center. He carries a workbook and a Bulgarian/English dictionary with him to class twice a week.

In class, he seldom speaks aloud but usually has the correct answer when asked a question.

"Now I speak only English here," he said.

And that makes a difference in how quickly he learns the language, Peetz said.

Georgiev knows that but still struggles. His wife and daughters speak well -- his youngest child learned in just three months, he said, shrugging his shoulders and suggesting that "maybe in five years" he'll know the language.

ljohnston@semissourian.com

335-6611, extension 126