Caravana al Norte: La larga caminata de Misael // Caravan to the North: Misael’s Long Walk

author: Jorge Argueta

translator (English): Elizabeth Bell 

illustrator: Manuel Monroy 

Groundwood Books / House of Anansi Press, 2019 

grades 4-up 

Pipil Nahua, Salvadoran

On the mostly black-and-white line illustration that wraps around the jacket, an anonymous group of people gathers in the Plaza Divino Salvador del Mundo. Most wear caps and lug drawstring sacks or backpacks or duffel bags or rolled-up sleeping bags, several carry toddlers or babies in slings, and one has a guitar. All of the people are brown and they face the same direction. Except for one man who is turned to the south, waving goodbye, all bodies and eyes are focused north.

In the group’s center is a young boy. With one hand, he holds a duffel bag and with the other, he grasps his father’s hand. While everyone else is depicted in white and is outlined in black or blue inks, this child wears a red t-shirt and his gaze is directed at the reader. He is the only one depicted with a mouth. His name is Misael Martínez, he is nine years old, he is part of the caravan to the north, and this is his story.

Through narrative verse in a voice that will resonate with young readers, Misael tells them why he and his family are leaving for the north. 

Hemos decidido porque en mi pueblo ya no se puede vivir. No hay trabajo ni oportunidades. Lo que hay es violencia, maras.

We decided to leave because you can't really live in my village anymore. There's no work. There's no way to get by. What there is, is violence, gangs.

As the families walk the 2,500 miles through Central America to the Tijuana border where they hope to cross into the US for a life that that will be safe and secure, Misael remembers his home—the good times and the beauty of simple things:

Yo quiero mucho pero mucho a mi país. Me encanta hacer siembras, ver crecer el maíz y los frijolitos

I love my country so, so much. I love to plant the fields, see the corn come up and the little beans sprout.

Readers also hear the voices of Misael’s parents. When they talk about the gang violence, their hearts are full of empathy for “those poor babies,” nobody’s children anymore but the gang’s. They talk about a neighbor’s son, killed by the cops.

Pobre cipote, se murío llorando y llamando a su mamá. A uno de tata, eso le duele.

Poor kid died crying and calling for his mamá. As a dad, that really hurts.

Misael remembers the good things about their home, the beautiful things: 

Cuando cantan las gualcalchillas canta mi corazón y yo sé que canta el corazón de nuestra Madre Tierra.

When the gualcalchillas sing, my heart sings and I know our Mother Earth’s heart is singing too.

Each short chapter begins with a title and a black-and-white line illustration that sets the scene for the narrative that follows. For the interior illustrations, Monroy used a calligraphy pen and Chinese ink on rustic rice paper, and for the cover, he processed the illustrations digitally to add color. This technique works beautifully with the spacious book design, hinting at detail and leaving room for readers’ imaginations—encouraging them to pause, examine and reflect—and identify with young Misael, his relatives, and the other asylum seekers.

Through these simple line drawings and beautiful narrative poems that need no interpretation, young readers will see the impossible conditions, the violence that is continuing to drive thousands of refugees into the mouth of the shark. And they will also see the impossible beauty of the land that young Misael has left—and the warm arms of his relatives and the beauty of the countryside and the beauty of a kernel of corn sprouting up, breaking the soil and saying “hello.” 

As they walk, the young refugees dream about what they’ll do when they reach the border. Misael fantasizes bathing in warm water and having a washing machine. Another boy wants to work and send money home to his mamá. Another’s ambition is to become a lawyer or a doctor, and yet another is happy to settle for just getting to the north. 

On their long, difficult journey, the refugees are often met with kindness from strangers along the way. In Chiquimulilla, Guatemala, 

Aquí nos regalan agua y comida. Lo más sabroso son las sonrisas de la gente.

They give us water and food. The smiles that people give us taste best of all.

And in Mexico City, a man at the shelter makes pupusas for everyone:

¡Vaya, las pupusas! ¡Pupusas revueltas de sueños, pupusas revueltas de arcoíris, pupusas revueltas de cantos, pupusas revueltas de amor!

“Come get your pupusas! Pupusas filled with dreams, pupusas filled with rainbows pupusas filled with song, pupusas filled with love!”

But when the large caravan finally reaches the US border they are confronted by the foreboding barbed wire-topped wall. Suddenly, cops and soldiers descend on them, attacking the families with tear gas and batons. The screaming, panicked, choking, people run every which way. 

That night, as Misael falls into a fitful sleep, he dreams that he’s flying, that he’s a song, that he’s a butterfly, that he’s a fish and a wave. And then he dreams 

el sueño más dulce: en vez de llegar al Norte llegué a El Salvador.

the sweetest dream of all Instead of going to the North I went back to El Salvador.

Although both Caravana al Norte and Caravan to the North employ language as spoken by a child, they don’t talk down to child readers. Argueta wrote this story in Spanish, and Elizabeth Bell’s spot-on English translation maintains both the poetic rhythm and Misael’s deep feelings. Monroy’s simple, evocative drawings, combined with the desperate narrative of a frightened child, show young readers what it is to be confronted with the real terror of the Central American asylum seekers desperately attempting to get to El Norte. 

*Highly recommended for home, library and classroom collections.

Argueta has a great talent and a gentle heart. Whether he’s writing in Nahuat, Spanish, or English, he knows his responsibility to the children of El Salvador and the children of the world—and he joyously takes it on. 

*Also highly recommended for home, classroom  and library collections are Argueta's Somos como las nubes / We Are Like the Clouds, translated by Elisa Amado and illustrated by Alfonso Ruano (Groundwood, 2016); and Dos conejos blancos and Two White Rabbits by Jairo Buitrago, translated by Elisa Amado and illustrated by Rafael Yockteng (Groundwood, 2016).

—Beverly Slapin

(published 10/5/19)

Gracias a mi amiga y colega, Lyn Miller-Lachmann.

¿Qué estás haciendo? // What Are You Doing?

author: Elisa Amado 

illustrator: Manuel Monroy 

translator (Spanish): Luis Barbeytia

(Spanish edition, CIDCLI /Brincacharcos, 2011 // English edition, Groundwood, 2011)

kindergarten-grade 2 

Mexican

When his mother reminds young Chepito that today is his first day of school, the child informs her that he doesn’t want to go, and runs outdoors instead. As he traverses his community, Chepito meets a variety of people, each of whom he asks, “¿Qué estás haciendo?” (“What are you doing?”). Everyone’s engaged with a variety of reading materials, and Chepito sings, “¿Por qué? ¿por qué? ¿por qué?” (“Why, why, why?”) A man looks for stats to see who won the game, a girl enjoys a funny comic book, tourists consult a guide because they’re lost, a mechanic pores through an auto repair manual, a young woman scans a magazine for hairstyle ideas, and an archeologist studies hieroglyphics on a stela.

At school, Chepito is attracted by a shelf full of books, and when his teacher lets him borrow one, he runs home and begins to read. (Of course, our young emergent reader is decoding the pictures rather than reading the words, the first step in literacy learning and appreciating the written word.) Soon, he’s asking his younger sister, Rosita, if he can read her the book, and, bringing the story full circle, she sings, “Why, why, why?” 

“Because it’s fun,” Chepito begins to say, but Rosita interrupts him: “Yes. Read it to me.”

Monroy’s characters have varied skin tones and facial features; and his softly-colored pencil, watercolor and digital illustrations, on a limited palette of mostly tans, browns, and greens, complement Amado’s rhythmic and pleasing economy of words. With just the right amount of repetition and humor, ¿Qué estás haciendo? and What Are You Doing? are perfect for emergent readers.

*Highly recommended for all home, classroom and library collections.

—Beverly Slapin

(published 7/6/19)

Rooster / Gallo

author: Jorge Luján 

illustrator: Manuel Monroy 

translator: Elisa Amado 

Groundwood Books / House of Anansi Press, 2004 

preschool-up

El gallo abre su pico y sale el sol. El sol abre su mano y nace el día. El día se asombra cuando la noche tiende su capa y la colma de estrellas para que coma el gallo y vuelva transparente al nuevo día.

The rooster opens its beak and up comes the sun. The sun opens its hand and the day is born. The day is surprised when night spreads its cloak and fills it with stars that the rooster can eat and so clear the sky for a new day.

With only three lyrical sentences, this elegant, simple yet complex poem about the diurnal round brings to life all of the aspects of day and night. Here, all have volition and all cooperate for the greater good of the whole: Rooster pulls in his blanket of clouds to bring in the sun, who opens its hand to bring forth the day, who is surprised at the advent of night, who brings forth the stars for Rooster to eat and clear the sky for a new day.

Monroy’s striking images of bright and muted watercolors on a palette of blues, browns, golds and greens darken as night approaches and lighten at daybreak; he masterfully depicts Rooster sometimes as a weathervane, sometimes in the shape of a cloud, sometimes bringing in the day, and sometimes spreading his cloak to release the stars. The design, which forefronts Luján’s original Spanish in large red letters, is followed by the English translation below in smaller black or blue type that contrasts with the background.

Written in Spanish and beautifully translated into English, Rooster / Gallo is a brilliant little book with a large meaning. For babies, children and adults to enjoy at their own levels of understanding, it’s highly recommended.   

—Beverly Slapin

(published 8/7/16)