Peyo Merce is an English teacher in a rural Puerto Rican school who is ordered by the school supervisor Rogelio Escalera to begin teaching English. Peyo reluctantly agrees but has no experience or knowledge teaching the subject in English. In his first English lesson, Peyo struggles to teach the children basic vocabulary like "cock" for rooster using the textbook as a guide. However, the children are confused by the unfamiliar words and cultural references in the textbook that do not reflect their own experiences. Peyo adapts the lesson and has the children repeat words, finding some success but still facing challenges in teaching a subject he has little grasp of using a textbook irrelevant to the students' lives.

1. Peyo Mercé: English Teacher
By Abelardo Diaz Alfaro Translated by Pedro Juan Soto
After the story about Santa Claus' debut in the barrio of La Cuchilla made the rounds, the animosity
between Peyo Merce and Rogelio Escalera, the school supervisor, grew worse. Escalera ordered the old
teacher, by means of a virulent and drastic letter, to emphasize at once the teaching of English, or else he
would be forced to resort to methods that were not to his taste, "but that would prove healthful for the
development of progressive education." That oftrepeated letter-ending of the supervisor, Peyo already
knew by heart; scornfully, he threw aside the wretched message. The unusual thing about the whole matter
was that, along with the letter, he received some books with white-plastered covers and glaring landscapes
adorned by well-fed, neatly dressed children.
Peyo grabbed one of the books. It read Primer, in black letters. He thought for a while and then,
scratching an ear, said to himself, "Primer must come from “primero”, which means that with this book 1
must start my new trip to the Calvary. One more headache. Peyo Merce to teach English in English! And
I'll have to — my job depends on it. Cuchilla style, it will be. If I myself don't chew it right, how am I
going to make the kids digest it? But Mr. Escalera wants English and English it will be." He then went
quickly through the book pages, which smelled brand-new.
The children's gabble, as they entered the shabby schoolroom, began to pull him out of his pondering.
Funny looking skirts and pants held by cloth-suspenders which had been tarnished by plantain, hair straight
and faded, tiny feet covered by the red clay of the rural trails, and the soft glow of hungry eyes on withered
faces.
The indignation that the supervisor's letter had stirred up in him diminished as all his children began to
fill the room. He loved them because they were his own kind and because for each of them he envisioned
a destiny as dark as the night becomes just before a storm. Good morning, Don Peyo, they said, and with
a slight movement of the head approached the benches nailed to tabletops. Peyo did not like to be addressed
as mister. "I'm a hick from La Cuchilla and I feel honored to be so. That mister thing tastes to me just like
Kresto and "chewing-gaw" and the other stuff they sell us now.
I bear within me the stain of the plantain and can turn whichever way, just like the bush leaf."
He lookedout the lopsided window as if to collecthis breath. Over the grayish-green ofthe hills spotted
by the swaying tobacco groves, white clouds raised their swollen sunlit sails. Against the redblaze ofsome
shade trees, crackles burnt their black wings. And he felt a lack of interest, a weakening of the will, come

2. over him, driving his attention rather to a class study of the land - the fertile land that yielded so much
light, so many ruby-colored clots. To return to everyday chores on such a sunny day, was something that
he could not help but lament. And painful it was to have to teach as dry a thing as Primer English.
He walked slowly to the front of the class. His cracked lips hinted at the laughter that would damn it all.
A bitter thought put away the laughter from his thoughts and wrinkled his forehead. Once again he
turned the pages of the meddlesome book. There was not a single thing in it that could arouse his
students' interest, nothing that related to the environment. He joyfully came upon a print of a big crest
rooster that displayed its luxuriant tail. The proud rooster had long, bent spurs that could serve well an
Isabela cock-game to spend the night. "That's it; today the kids will have rooster in English." In better
spirits now, Peyo decided to face his class most calmly.
"Well, children...We are goin' to talk in Englis' toooday." While these gaspingly bespattered words
came out of his mouth, his eyes went fleetingly over the astonished faces of his children. And in order to
make the best of his approach, he asked in a high pitch, "Under-ai-stan'? "
Complete silence was the answer they gave him. And Peyo felt like reprimanding them, but — how
would he manage that in English? He moved over again to the window in search of courage. A lark cut
through the bluish expanse — a black petal in the wind. And he felt loaded with misery. With a deep
longing for freedom.
He availed himself of the moment to rehearse the pronunciation of the word he would be teaching next.
And with a wry face followed by a sort of sneezing sound, he muttered,
"Cock...Cock...Cock.. >? And scolded, "Language of the devil."
He decided to try out a method that was not exactly what the tedious pedagogical lectures of the experts
advised.
Silence came over the classroom. Peyo was loved and respected by his students. That was something
that Rogelio Escalera could not understand! Peyo did not know anything about the latest studies conducted
on the teacher's personality traits and even less about child psychology. He did not like to attend the "fixed
model classes," something that the supervisor took very much to heart.
A spurt of light came through the small window, red-spotting the wan faces and white-capping the
loose, long hair.
"Well, children, today we're going to gad about in English for a while — straight

3. English." His words coming out laboriously, he was inclined to give out with a little speech concerning
the goodness of what he was, about to deal wi.th. But his main fault as a teacher was sincerity.
Feeling a lump in his throat, he loosened the knot of his faded tie with nervous fingers. Out in the
farthest corner of his mind, he cursed a few things—among them, the supervisor who wanted him to swim
in deep-sea waters where only the best fish can keep alive. With full resignation, he said to himself, "You
can spike and lash any old mare into making a move." And the jibaro saying acquired in his own mind all
of its painful reality.
Peyo tried to think about the devices suggested in the books that had to do with the teaching of
English. His mind, however, was as gloomy as a night that threatened stormy weather. "A shortcut, a
footpath, a trick—anything that can lead me out to the road," he implored. And shaking his distressedhead
with rough fingers, while his students stared with surprise, he said, "What paradise this would be if it were
not for the supervisor and his nonsense."
Convinced that his efforts to conduct the class in English would prove futile, he again resorted to a
method all his own, "a cut-through" as he called it. He would mix it, concoct it, graft it. And whatever
would come out of it, duck or widgeon, would be all right.
He raised the book over the head of his students. With a tobacco-stained finger, he pointed at the
illustration of the superb rooster.
"Look, this is a cock. Repeat that."
And the students sang away out of tune, "Cock, cock, cock."
Peyo, all excited, head stuffed up, shouted, "Whoa! Easy. These brats are setting up a cockpit right
here!
The dissonant voices died down. Peyo was stifling. Once again he walked to the window. Sweat soaked
his many-colored shirt. He needed air, a lot of air. And he held himself there for a while, hands stuck like
hooks on the slanted window-frame.
He stared unconsciously at the neighboring stream a fresh tear sliding through the rocks. And he envied
Petra's son, who was 'dunking his face in the sunlit water.
Disgusted, he decided to get out of the mess he had gotten into. And nervously he walked back to the
front of the room.

4. "All right, cock is rooster inEnglish, in American." Again, he pointed the tobacco-stained finger at the
luxurious rooster. "This is cockin English, cock is rooster. Now let's go easy, 'cause that's the way to tame
a stallion. Otherwise, he runs wild. What's this in English, Teclo? "
Teclo, who had been staring at the strange rooster,answered timidly, "That's a turkey game-cock." And
the children's laughter made the shabby room rattle. Peyo frowned, pretending not to be moved by the
funny remark, and said maliciously, "I knew it, he walks on the sly into Don Cipria's cockpit. Turkey
game-cock, indeed!
Child, this is a tame rooster, a respectable rooster, not one of those shaved ones that fight around.
And again, he asked, "What's this in English? " And the students went into the monotonous sing-song,
"Cock, cock, cock." And Peyo felt pretty good. Out of that bloody encounter, he had emerged unharmed.
He distributed some books and ordered the students to turn to the page that told all about that bragging
rooster. "Let's read a little in English." The children looked surprised at the page and could hardly hold
back the roars of laughter.
Peyo's face changed colors. A chill ran through his body. He even thought of handing the supervisor
his most definite resignation. "The pig's tail is curling for sure now." And by fits and starts, stuttering, with
a heavy tongue and lips tasting of thorny maya leaves, he read, "This is the cock. The cock says cock-a-
doodle-do." He then toldhimself, "Either that roosterhas distemper orelse Americans don't hear toogood."
That was really the last straw. But he gave a moment's thought to his everyday bread.
"Read with me. The cock says cock-a-doodle-do." The voices shimmered on the morning wind.
"That's good."
"Now, Tellito, how does the rooster sing in English? " "I don't know, Don Peyo".
"But you just read it, boy."
"No," Tellito whimpered, looking at the print.
"Look, you dumb-bell, the rooster says cock-a-doodle-do."
And Tellito, as though apologizing, said, "Don Peyo, that American Manila rooster may go like that,
but the black and white one we got home goes caw-caw-raw-caw."
Peyo forgot all his pain and let out a boisterous laugh that was accompanied by the children's own titter.
Alarmed by the noise, Don Cipria's own camagüey cock shook his iridescent wings and wove into the
sky's blue silk his own clean, metallic caw-caw-raw-caw.