Since my sister Derek left to study in Washington, Elena was left alone with her husband and their two sons. The role of spiritual advisor, not suitable for his age, fell on me. Our relationship grew closer, and I was able to look deeper: the woman had a superior intelligence that had been wasted. She was an earlier member of WIZO in Costa Rica. The WIZO meetings were a pretext to promote feminist values under the guise of Zionism. For example, my mother would ask the ladies to contribute to help poor children. It soon became evident that none of them had a check-book. “Wait a minute, ladies,” Elena would say, “how is it that you work just as hard as men and none of you have a dime in the bank?” The women would be shocked and remain silent. They worked just as much, if not more, than their husbands, and yet their husbands would tell them that they didn’t know how to handle financial matters.
Take Doña Perla, for example. She had provided the initial capital to create an appliance store, but when it came time for her divorce, she was left with nothing. Elena never failed to remind her of this whe-never someone mentioned not knowing anything
“about the financial entanglements of their husbands.”
Then there was the issue of transportation. The ladies didn’t drive, so they had to rely on their husbands to 25
take them to San Pedro at the East side of the capital.
The men did it begrudgingly because it ruined their card game.
Discussions about women’s education were even more heated. Many didn’t see the need to send their daughters to the university. “But Elena, why enroll Miriam if all she wants is to get married?” “Because if you don’t, she’ll end up like you, with headaches from the screams your husband gives you.”
Her observations were astute. When the meetings were mixed, my mother would tell me to pay attention to how the women ate when they were alone versus when they were with their husbands. She was right: with their husbands, they barely touched their plates and ate like little birds. But in the meetings alone, they seemed like vacuum cleaners.
It wouldn’t be surprising if WIZO became the enemy of the husbands. After each meeting at our house, their wives would come with gender-related questions. “Móishele, why do I always have to serve you breakfast? Don’t you think it would be a good idea for you to do it occasionally?” Doña Ivón asked.
At first, the suspicious husbands started telling their wives not to vote for Elena anymore. “If you change leaders,” they suggested, “our relationships will be more harmonious.” “Zair Gut (Very well), my love,”
Toña said to Samuel, “I’m going to vote against Elena when you let us change the Jewish community board.”