Gilroy
– On a sweltering afternoon, when the sun makes children
sluggish and drives them into the shade, there is one sound that
seems to instantly perk them up: Ringing bells that harken the
arrival of The Ice Cream Man.
By Lori Stuenkel
Gilroy – On a sweltering afternoon, when the sun makes children sluggish and drives them into the shade, there is one sound that seems to instantly perk them up: Ringing bells that harken the arrival of The Ice Cream Man.
These days, when the craving for an ice cold treat hits, satisfaction is often just around the corner – literally.
Walking speedily down Eigleberry Street, Juvenal Gonzalez pushes his ice cream cart in front of him and rings the bells non-stop. He said he enjoys selling ice cream because it puts smiles on the faces of the kids who buy from him.
But most of the time, Gonzalez’ eight-hour days are all business. He earns about $40 per day selling ice cream in East Gilroy, much less than most working adults in this area, but it’s enough to send money back to his family in Mexico.
A native of Guanajuato, in central Mexico, Gonzalez said he came to Gilroy only in February so he could make more money than he was as a field laborer. At 50 years old, Gonzalez’ move to Gilroy was also his first away from the city where he grew up.
“For me, it’s good here, but for others, who knows?” he said. “I can work here and make money to send home, but I like to work and I’m used to working hard. Others maybe can’t find work like I did.”
After he spends two more months here, Gonzalez said he’ll return home to his wife, Irena, and three grown children and work in the fields during the winter season. In the meantime, though, he’s hoping that the late summer and early fall heat is here to say.
“It’s better when it’s hot, because when it’s cold, nobody buys anything,” he said.
Around lunchtime on a recent hot day, Gonzalez pays the sun no mind as he strides down the sidewalk, bells ringing. He wears brown cowboy boots, faded jeans and a long-sleeved, button-down shirt. His dark blue baseball cap offers minimal protection from the sun that has darkened and wrinkled his skin.
On days such as this, Gonzalez said he likes to walk past city parks because there’s plenty of trees and shade through which to pass. But he never stops to cool off. For eight hours a day, his white, weathered Nike sneakers are moving, though he drags is heels with each step.
“You have to walk in order to sell,” he said. “If you stop, you’re not going to sell anything.”
After six months here, he speaks no English and says he’ll probably never learn. But he knows enough to give people the frozen treats they want: Lucas popsicles, Super Mario ice cream pops, Nutz’o bars. The only treat in which Gonzalez occasionally indulges – as a paying customer – is the lemon-flavored Lucas pops, he said.
Gonzalez walks quickly, to cover as much ground as he can in the shortest time possible. He marches down Eigleberry Street, turns east down Old Gilroy, and heads north on Forrest Street. He loops around a couple blocks, and eventually re-traces his steps south on Forrest once he reaches South Valley Middle School.
At a pace of between four and five miles an hour, it’s no surprise the 5-feet 6-inch Gonzalez is as thin as he is. Plus, he rides his bike between his Monte Bello Street apartment and his employer’s Forrest Street location each morning and evening.
After nearly an hour of criss-crossing East Gilroy with no sale to be made, Gonzalez actually picks up the pace.
“The time passes quickly,” he said.
He does not carry a radio because he says he won’t be able to pay attention to his sales for La Super Paleteria Michoacana.
Since he is able to send money home about once each month, Gonzalez said he might be coming back to Gilroy next summer.
For now, Gonzalez will continue to share a Gilroy apartment with two friends, one of whom helped him get his ice cream job. He insists he does little in his spare time, although he does enjoy watching Spanish language television, from news of the Central Coast to comedy to sports, especially soccer.
He gets news from home only about once a month, when he calls his wife in Guanajuato. His entire family – including his parents and five grandchildren – still live there.
“Of course it’s hard to be separated from them,” Gonzalez said. “But all I can say is that it’s better for me to be here right now, where I can have the opportunity to work and earn money.”
