Reflections From the Sainati Family
Reprinted from the 40th Anniversary Commemorative
From Marisa Sainati, daughter of SYA Spain Resident Director Ed Sainati (1971-1986)
“¿Te gusta?,” said my father. I looked up from my plate. He was talking to me, but I had no idea what he was saying. He asked again: “¿Te gusta?” I still didn’t get it. Finally he asked, “Do you like it?” I looked down at my plate and back at him and I realized that, yes, it was actually pretty good---although I certainly wasn’t going to admit it, much less, in Spanish. This is one of my first memories of being in Spain. We had probably been here for only two or three weeks at the time, and I had just experienced the first of one of my father’s many improvised home Spanish classes.
My father was Resident Director of SYA Spain in Barcelona for 15 years, and the school eventually became very much a part of our lives. Our move here was to have a lasting influence on the whole family. My older brother, Dino, and I both married Catalans and live here on a permanent basis. My mother also chose to make Barcelona her residence, and my younger brother, Marco, in addition to working in the U.S. has held positions in Spain and Switzerland and is currently working in Italy. From the very start, having caught my father’s enthusiasm, I was fascinated by the program. I admired students who were prepared to pick up and move so far away from home for nine months. It came as a surprise to learn that SYA was celebrating its 40th anniversary this year! That meant that I had been living here for 34 years already. I continue to hang on to my early memories, and I remember my father’s lively explanations of the intricacies of the Spanish language. That wasn’t all there was to it either. My brothers and I were instructed in art history and architecture on countless day trips to small towns in Cataluña. Though hard to admit at the time, his improvised home teaching made learning fun. I’ve always wished I could have attended some of his real classes.
As time went by, I realized that being resident director carried a lot more responsibilities than merely teaching. There were the administrative aspects too. My father spent many Saturday and even Sunday mornings down at the office. I was too young to understand much, but I used to catch bits and pieces of my parents’ hushed conversations on the balcony of our apartment in Barcelona during those early years here. Over and over again, I would hear them say, “We can’t allow the program to fold”. The dollar was low, and the budget was tight. My father worked so hard to streamline SYA during those years. He taught English himself for three years, and he also hired someone local to teach math. With hard work and great sacrifice on all sides, the program survived. My father believed in everything SYA stood for and he was truly dedicated to it. At home we were acutely aware of how important it was to him. The fact remains, that even after retiring, he continued to get together regularly with Hal McCann (former Executive Director and Resident Director), his successor, enjoying the opportunity to stay in touch with the school.
Some years later, I heard that Edna Atkinson, the school secretary, was going to retire. I contacted Resident Director Francesca Piana thinking I might apply for the job. We had lunch together, and I had a feeling that it might work out. A few days later Francesca, much to my delight, offered me the job. So in September 1995 I began to work at SYA, and I enjoyed three very happy years there. I would look forward to the days in August when I would study the students’ photographs and try to memorize their names as I opened files for them. Then there were the hectic days at the beginning of the year with students wandering in to ask me the most bizarre questions — usually in English. They would drop in to say hi, or share their snacks with me and, of course, ask whether the mail had arrived. At first we’d speak English, but by Christmas it was always in Spanish.
It was with sorrow that I saw the program move to Zaragoza in 1998 as my family ties in Barcelona wouldn’t allow me to follow it there. I’m happy to hear that it is going as strong as ever, and I was especially pleased last year when I learned from my cousin that the Sainati name would continue to be a part of SYA. His daughter Cristina would be attending SYA Zaragoza in 2004-2005! I’m sure my father would have been very proud, too, and I have no doubt that he would have taken the opportunity to give Cristina a few of his improvised Spanish lessons during her visits here.
From Marco Sainati, son of Ed Sainati
My recollection of SYA as a young kid in Barcelona (I lived there between the ages of 4 and 17) was mainly listening to my father’s many stories about his students at the dinner table or during a Sunday drive. What strikes me now as I think back on these stories and anecdotes is how fond he was of his students and how close he held them to his heart. He seemed to live his students’ woes as if his very own and take personal pride in their achievements and celebrations. Nothing made him happier than seeing a student pick up the language and the culture or do well in a particular class or get accepted into a good college. Conversely, when problems arose, as they inevitably did on issues ranging from family placements to homesickness, he labored over how to accommodate his students and ensure their year abroad was fulfilling for them. In the days before e-mail I remember many calls from parents to our apartment in Barcelona in the evenings (in those days an overseas call to Spain was a major undertaking . . . operators and all). My father always managed to assuage a worried parent and also relish in the opportunity to levy praise on their son or daughter.
My father was a true expatriate and aside from his yearly visits to the U.S. to pick up a new group of students he rarely traveled back. He had become half Spanish and, particularly towards his later years, had fallen a bit out of touch with all things American. Before the days of CNN and the Internet, SYA students (and perhaps the Herald Trib) were his main connection to the U.S. As such he was perpetually fascinated by new American fashion and culture trends, colloquialisms, and gadgets that students brought with them from the U.S. As much as my father may have fallen a bit behind the times when it came to America, he was passionate about Spanish culture, history, language, art and music. My guess is that much of his success as a director of SYA was due to his instilling this passion in his students and making sure they made the most of their year abroad.
On my part, never really having lived in the U.S. and having grown up essentially Spanish until I was 17 (I attended a Spanish school), I was always a bit awe struck by the SYA students and was eager to get to the U.S. to finish high school and go on to college. Perhaps because of this awe, unlike my brother and sister who married Catalans and settled in Barcelona, I married a true-blue American and call Virginia my home. I still hold out hope, however, of perhaps retiring in Barcelona as my parents did.
My father had a very endearing personality and an innate ability to both lead students while at the same time letting them take him under their wing in their own sort of way. He earned their respect but also their affection. I remember how touched my father was when a group of SYA alumni put together a book for him upon his retirement with signatures and photographs. Not one who openly showed emotion, he never expected it and was both surprised and deeply moved by it. He would no doubt feel the same way today were he to know that he was being remembered on SYA’s 40th anniversary.