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HILLSBOROUGH, NC - For purposes of Monday nights, the Spanish classes at the Orange County Courthouse start at 7 p.m. and are mostly over by about 8:30 or so. In the larger perspective, the courthouse classes started about four years ago and there is no end in sight.

It is a never-ending curriculum because the commitment to learn another language has to be one of life's most long-range undertakings. That's according to one faithful attendee at the Monday night Spanish classes, District Court Judge Alonzo Coleman.

His wife Nancy goes with him to these weekly classes and she, like her husband, applies what she's learned in class to her professional life. She's a UNC home health nurse, with a growing caseload of Hispanic patients.

Spanish class at their home every Thursday night. They read a Spanish-language newspaper downloaded off the Internet every day and watch a Spanish newscast on videotape over dinner every evening.

Alonzo Coleman attends Tuesday and Thursday afternoon classes in Legal Spanish at UNC. "It's the only way to do it, the only way not to slide back between the trips to Oaxaca," he said.

Their yearly sojourn to Oaxaca (pronounced WaHAka) is nothing at all like the Cancun cruise package. The landlocked city is about 100 miles south of Mexico City, and while there the Colemans attend language lessons all day every day. What little is left of their tourist time is devoted to taking in the city's history and culture.

Oaxaca is an ancient city where Cortez's palace still stands in the city's center, and there are markets all along the streets. An old fort marks the site of the victory of Porfirio Diaz over the French army, the historic event that is celebrated by the annual Cinco de Mayo.

On their visits they have been told by Mexican lawyers that approximately 80 percent of judges in Mexico are corrupt, which underscores one of the fundamental differences between American and Mexican legal proceedings. Coleman said he has had defendants in his courtroom ask how much will be needed for the judge.

"They need to understand it's a crime up here even to try to pay a judge," he said. "It's important for them to understand certain things about our culture are different."

Nancy Coleman's career also has evolved significantly as her understanding of Spanish has deepened, and the personal rewards have been enormous. Often she is sent out to translate exchanges between agency professionals and patients, and many times she goes out on her own to visit patients just released from the hospital.

Home health providers without the language skills often are greeted with suspicion and hostility, particularly where services to children are involved. But with the skills, the barriers melt immediately.

"It's opened up a new world," she said. "I wouldn't be able to see these patients at all, and it's a privilege to be able to deal with them. They are such nice people and the ones that I have encountered are hard-working - just real good examples to all of us."

Only by degrees did this couple become quite so heavily immersed in all things Hispanic. About four years ago Lonnie Coleman had a bit of an epiphany, thinking about all the non-English-speaking defendants who were appearing in ever-increasing numbers in his courtroom.

"I put myself in their shoes," he said. "I imagined that I was in Russia and I had gotten a warrant and I had to go to court." Assuming that he did decipher the warrant and somehow or another found the court date and figured out where to go, he would still find himself sitting in a courtroom, seeing the judge stand up and say something, seeing the district attorney stand up and say something, and watching the sheriff take people out of the courtroom.

"All of a sudden I hear my name called out," he said. "What am I supposed to do? Am I supposed to stand? Am I supposed to leave? I guessed all I could do was stick my hand up in the air. And that's what these guys were doing in court."

He became further motivated by an incident involving the rape of a young Guatemalan girl, who told her story in the judge's chambers to an interpreter. From Coleman's standpoint, he was only getting the weeping and the shaking and the emotional stress of the victim.

Later, he asked the interpreter if someone his age (he is now 63) could learn Spanish. The interpreter, Alan Archibald, said, "Of course." Coleman asked how, and Archibald told him to come to his house on Monday night.

The Monday classes have moved from Archibald's house to the new courthouse on Margaret Lane, and Archibald is still the teacher. He also teaches the Thursday classes at the Colemans' house.

"We've been studying with him for four years," said Nancy Coleman. "He loves teaching and he has a wealth of knowledge about customs and different countries and political situations. He explains the background of words, the roots of words, and it ties everything in together and you just learn it. It just paints the picture so beautifully."

"It's a lifelong challenge, but it turns out to be such a pleasure," Alonzo Coleman said. "We feel like 6-year-olds just crawling out into a new world. It winds up totally changing your outlook. We're in a world we've never been in before."

The following article describes Alan Archibald's work as director of Hogar Hispano, a 501(c)(3) non-profit corporation dedicated to the wellbeing of North Carolina Hispanics. www.hogarhispano.org

While as many as 700 migrant workers are employed each spring by Orange County farmers, ther are an estimated 3000 to 10000 permanent Hispanic residents of the county. As many of them reach middle age, and are thus no longer suited to the rigors of farm labor, they begin to seek out other employment opportunities.

However, upon reaching middle age, language acquisition skills also wane, making it difficult for them to find employment beyond farm work, construction, and other forms of manual labor. That's where Hogar Hispano comes in.

Hogar Hispano, a Hillsborough-based 501(c)(3) non-profit corporation dedicated to the well-being of Hispanics in the Old North State, coordinates La Cooperativa Hispana, a labor cooperative, whose members are available for jobs such as yard care, housecleaning, cooking and catering.

Currently housed in the community center of Holy Family Catholic Church, at the intersection of NC 57 and Gov. Burke Road north of Hillsborough, Hogar Hispano combines the energy, passions and talents of a number of Orange County residents all of whom are dedicated to helping local Hispanics not only survive, but thrive.

According to Alan Archibald, a Holy Family parishioner and former Spanish teacher at Orange High School, Hogar Hispano bases its approach on stressing the importance of education, gainful employment, and home ownership.

Archibald, a native of Rochester, New York, who has called Orange County home for 11 years, brings with him expertise in the fields of Latin American Studies and Comparative Religions. He has also studied tropical medicine in England, lived in Colombia, and taught medicine in Managua, Nicaragua.

According to Archibald, Ismael and Herlinda Balderas, former residents of Mexico who now make their home in Orange County, have also been instrumental in the genesis of Hogar Hispano.

No strangers to hard work and local activism, the couple farmed for 35 years in the Mexican state of Querétaro, where they played a decisive role in having electricity and phone service brought to the hamlet of San Pedro Escanela.

"Members of the Hispanic community are hardworking, family-oriented people," said Archibald, who helped found the Migrant Education Department of Orange County Schools. "We want to help provide them with the tools they need to do well."

Ismael, currently 50 years old, worked on the northern Orange County farm of Earl and David McKee for a number of years. Herlinda, according to Archibald, is an excellent cook.

"Due to bouts of hyper-inflation, Mexicans typically distrust banks," said Archibald. "We enable access to lenders, and encourage home ownership as a way of creating a nest egg for the future."

According to Archibald, Hogar Hispano will soon offer a cyber-café providing virtual office space for fledgling entrepreneurs, training in Java programming, digital music recording, and a number of other opportunities.

Hogar Hispano is currently involved in a fund-raising effort to refurbish the old Warren Clinic in Prospect Hill. $30,000.00 will be needed to complete the project over the next two years.

Alan Archibald's "Monday Night Class," was launched five years ago at the request of District Court Judge Alonzo "Lonnie" Coleman following Archibald's mediation of a legal dispute involving a Central American woman. An account of this episode was published in the "Urban Hiker," (April, 2000, Durham, North Carolina.)

"It's a big problem for me," says Josefina Carrillo, a mother with three children in Durham Public Schools. "I go to parent-teacher meetings and try to tell the school the problems I have with my son, but they don't understand me."

Carrillo is standing in the main room of El Centro Hispano, a Durham organization dedicated to building the power of the local Hispanic community. She has just finished the day's English-language class and is speaking through an interpreter.

"It surprises me when I hear people in other schools get translators in meetings," Carrillo says. She pats a large dictionary she holds in her arms. "When I go, this is my translator."

Is North Carolina doing enough to address the issues raised by non-English-speaking taxpayers -- not just Hispanics -- who demand access to the same services as English-speaking taxpayers?

Non-English-speakers move to the Triangle from many parts of the world; immigrants who speak Spanish constitute the largest identifiable block (although they represent a variety of cultural groups with different dialects). The 2000 Census documented about 34,000 people of Hispanic or Latino descent in Wake County, 17,000 in Durham County and over 5,200 in Orange County. Nearly ten percent of the population in Chatham County, over 4,700 people, is Hispanic.

Immigrants who used to come to North Carolina to work during harvest season are now finding the state is a great place to live and work year-round. As word spreads in places like Mexico and Guatemala and families move here permanently, state agencies are finding that once-temporary bilingual services now need to become permanent as well.

The trend is likely to continue in coming years. "Young people are more inclined to migrate or immigrate than older people," states a 1999 study by the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill's Institute of Government. "Because most of the female Hispanic newcomers are in their peak childbearing years, the potential for continued growth of the state's Hispanic population is enormous."

Like Josefina Carillo, many immigrants are committed to learning English so they can talk with and understand their children's teachers. But learning a new language can take a long time, particularly for an adult. That means Hispanic immigrants who are doing their best to learn the offical language of their adopted land may still encounter serious difficulties as they try to use government services like the courts, police, social services and schools.

The entire state of North Carolina is currently under a "compliance review" by the Office of Civil Rights to ensure that all local health and social services departments are providing services effectively to those who need them, as guaranteed by Title VI of the 1964 Civil Rights Act. Medicaid dollars and other forms of federal assistance hang in the balance.

"Most counties in the state are currently out of compliance," says Terry Hodges, director of the Americans with Disabilities Act program in N.C.'s Department of Health and Human Services. "It's not intentional. It's because of a lack of knowledge of Title VI issues, and because in the past the state has done an inefficient job of having policies for counties to follow."

"Money's a big issue," notes Robert Hall, director of the Chatham County Department of Social Services. "If the federal government mandates that we have full-time interpreters without supplying money for them, that forces county commissioners to come up with it. And there's a limit to how much they're gonna raise taxes before voters vote them out. You just try to do the best with the resources you've got."

At least Chatham's DSS tacitly acknowledges they're not doing what they're supposed to be doing. The larger question is how much of the rest of the state's support system is also in violation of the law.

"I do see that many agencies are trying their best to address this," says one worker who asked to remain anonymous. "We've always worked with them and will continue to work with them. But I'm actually surprised more health departments and hospitals haven't been sued. When you use a child or family member to interpret what are supposed to be confidential medical discussions, you're asking for trouble."

State ADA program director Terry Hodges agrees. "One of the most amazing things is that the Hispanic advocacy groups have been extremely helpful. But if we don't work this out, the advocacy groups and legal services organizations are out there. They can bring lawsuits to force us to work it out."

As you listen to the difficulties Hispanic immigrants encounter as they interact with state and local government agencies, you might get the impression that North Carolina is behind the curve in dealing with the problem. But some observers are quick to say the state is doing better than most others.

"I've never seen a state move so well and so fast in providing interpreters to deal with a system that got overloaded overnight," says Eta Trabing, director of the Berkana Center for Translation and Interpretation Studies in Fuquay-Varina. "I've been creating standards for interpreters at the state and federal level for 20 years. North Carolina has achieved in six years what others have not done in 30."

"A couple of years ago, interpreters were walking up and soliciting clients in the hallways," she says. "Horrible, absolutely horrible. Now, if you're in criminal court and don't speak English, they assign you a lawyer and an interpreter. And Wake and Durham County now have set times when trained interpreters are available, and schedule Spanish-speaking defendants then."

Last week, the North Carolina Conference of District Attorneys announced it had translated "key victim communication tools" -- a victim's rights handbook and video, a child victim's coloring book -- into Spanish. The state now also offers a three-day "Spanish Language Immersion Training" that teaches district attorneys to ask basic questions like "What happened?" and "Where did it happen?" in Spanish.

"We'd like to have a state-paid, certified interpreter in every city," says Stephanie Scarce, head of the Foreign Language Services Project in the Administrative Office of the Courts. But keeping standards high means that progress, while steady, will also be slow. According to Scarce, of the 56 people who began the most recent course only 13 passed the final test.

"We get a lot of people who think they can interpret just because they're bilingual," says Eta Trabing. "But they don't know the difference between an indictment and an arraignment. You have to know the legal terminology as well as a lawyer does."

"I've seen a judge ask a question and the interpreter talk with the client for 15 minutes, then turn to the judge and say "He says yes, your honor.' That's not interpreting. We have to make sure the people we train know that."

Despite the high failure rate in the certification course, Scarce says the state is "doing just fine." She notes only two states have a higher passing rate than North Carolina.

"Reporters always want to say there's a dire need that's going unfilled," she says. "But look at what we've done in two years. If a Hispanic woman wants to take out a restraining order in a domestic violence case, she can now go to a magistrate, get a packet of forms that are bilingual and get a state-certified interpreter for the courtroom at state expense. You take a state like South Carolina, and they don't even have a certification program. I think the courts are making great strides. We're doing the best we can, given the time we have and the grant money."

"My position is still funded by grants, including one from the Z. Smith Reynolds Foundation and another from the State Bar Association," Scarce replies. "The Smith Reynolds grant runs out this year, so the governor's crime commission has agreed to give us money for at least one more year. But they're only funding this position, not any of the other needs like brochures, videos and training. And after that, we don't know."

Money to help Spanish-speaking immigrants get the services they need is apparently not a very high priority during North Carolina's current budget crisis, despite the fact that problems are certain to increase in coming years.

"We still have huge numbers of people in the legal system who are being served by people who can't adequately interpret for them," says Orange County District Judge Alonzo Coleman. Judge Coleman signed up for regular Spanish classes five years ago after becoming frustrated at not being able to understand what was going on in his courtroom. "We need 200 certified interpreters across the state. What you need is someone in every court that opens wherever there's a non-English-speaking person. That's the need."

Until that need is met, Hispanic people will continue to fall through the cracks. Like one man looking for work at El Centro Hispano last week (he asked that his name not be used). He'd been arrested for driving while impaired and had left his car by the side of the road. He couldn't make bail and was eventually released, only to find his car impounded and, he says, no one in the county sheriff's department who could talk with him about what to do to get it back. Frustrated, he gave up on being understood and is now struggling to find transportation to work each day.

That episode points to a number of ongoing issues raised by the sudden influx of Hispanic immigrants. Some, like major language differences, have quick fixes that are fairly simple, even if they're less than ideal long-term solutions. The Chatham County Sheriff's Department, for example, deals with non-English-speaking arrestees by using a company called Language Line that gives government officials 24-hour access to a live interpreter via an 800 number. The private service costs the county $3 per minute, which the Sheriff's Department is now figuring the best way to fund.

Other, more subtle issues may be more difficult to deal with, but can nonetheless have major consequences for interactions between authorities and Spanish-speaking immigrants.

Take, for instance, the simple matter of eye contact. Wayne Herder, state Director of Driver's License Certification, says he's spoken with DMV examiners who say they can tell when a Hispanic person's documents are fake because "they wouldn't look me in the eye."

"What they didn't realize," Herder says, "is that Hispanic customers, especially the laboring class, are very deferential to authority figures. What the examiner takes as a sign that the customer is lying is actually a sign of respect. We've worked hard to make sure examiners know about those kinds of cultural issues."

"In Mexico, paying bribes to police is a normal part of life. If you don't have a lot of money on you when you get into an accident and the cops come, you'd better run. We have to educate people that running from cops in the United States isn't necessary and is actually a very bad idea."

After seeing a dramatic increase in Hispanic immigrants in his courtroom, Judge Coleman became something of an evangelist for cross-cultural education. Other judges and district attorneys have followed suit. Instead of sentencing defendants to community service for minor violations, judges have begun to sentence them to a 3-5 hour course about adjusting to life in the United States. The course discusses the U.S. attitude towards things like domestic violence, seatbelt use and drunk driving -- attitudes that may be very different from those the immigrants are used to.

Coleman believes all police, judges and court employees should take a similar short course to sensitize them to these issues. Last month, the state Administrative Office of the Courts presented just such a course to nearly 400 N.C. magistrates.

In the absence of a statewide budget commitment, non-profit organizations, private companies and inspired individuals have become the front-line workers helping Spanish-speaking residents of the Triangle.

The town of Cary, for example, hires Jackie Metivier's company, Bilingual Communications, to translate biweekly meetings for Hispanic employees in the recycling and solid waste departments.

"We bring our equipment -- 90 receivers that provide simultaneous interpretation -- and hand them out," Metivier explains. "It's a mixed audience, so some folks hear the meeting in English and some hear it in Spanish. It works out very nicely."

Private contractors are a big part of the patchwork solution to the Triangle's translation and interpretation needs, she says. "We work mostly with hospitals, but also insurance companies, attorneys, businesses like IBM and Nortel, a lot of hotels whose housekeeping staff is Spanish-speaking, you name it."

Non-profit groups like El Centro Hispano in Durham, El Pueblo in Raleigh and Childcare Networks in Pittsboro also help take up the slack left by the absence of interpretative services in many areas of government.

"We do a lot of ad hoc interpreting for folks who come in with a letter or bill they can't understand," says Alice Johnson, translation and interpretation coordinator at El Centro Hispano. "That's how we get the pulse of where the greatest need is -- health care issues including the Department of Social Services and Medicaid, and DMV."

"The courts have already taken an enormous step to providing quality, certified legal interpreters," Johnson says. "We think that's a great model for other areas like health care, where the quality and professionalism of your interpreters is very important."

"One of our missions is government agency consultation," notes Aileen Foley, El Centro Hispano's administrative coordinator. "When we get a request from a government organization, our first question is "Why do you need us to translate for you?' Us translating on a one-time basis may not address the real need, so we go deeper, find the problem and encourage them to hire bilingual people if necessary. Our goal is not just to provide the service, but to make them realize why they're calling us in the first place."

Individuals with an unusually strong commitment to helping immigrants adjust to their new life in the Triangle are also an important piece of the puzzle. Paul Stennett, who grew up in Guatemala as a son of missionary parents, is creating a curriculum on cultural differences for use with defendants, police officers and government workers. Alan Archibald, founder of the non-profit Hogar Hispano (www.hogarhispano.homestead.com), has not only organized a Hispanic Labor Cooperative that employs six full-time and twelve part-time employees, he also teaches a long-running series of Spanish-classes to interested officials and citizens. Judge Coleman and his wife host one of those classes in their home in Hillsborough every Thursday evening -- another product of Coleman's epiphany in the courtroom five years ago.

People like these are a gift to the community, of course, but is it realistic to expect a groundswell of Triangle government employees who'll rush to learn Spanish, on their own time, to help them deal with the area's rapidly changing demographics?

"I think it's understandable that court officials would get frustrated at not being able to communicate with the people who come into their office every day," says Stephanie Scarce. "They worry they're going to have to learn a new language, which will take time -- possibly up to 4 to 6 years to get fluent -- and spend their own money to do it, simply because the state won't pay for interpreters."

"We tend to forget that multiple language situations are really an opportunity for enrichment -- for everybody," she says, noting that Hispanic immigrants are "packing" local English classes. "It has to do with the value we place on multilingualism, and seeing multiple languages only in terms of being a burden or obstacle that we have to fight to overcome. But we have a real opportunity to invite Durham to embrace a multi-language situation. The majority of the world operates multilingually; it's actually something of an aberration for the United States to be so monolingual."

"At first, trying to learn a new language left me with a feeling of total inadequacy," he admits. He talked with Alan Archibald of Hogar Hispano about his doubts. "When I asked Alan if he thought someone as old as I am could learn Spanish, he looked at me and said, "Of course you can learn Spanish!' He said if anyone would start with him and stick with it for six months, they'd be speaking Spanish. Not perfectly, but speaking it."

"It's not at all unreasonable," Alice Johnson suggests, "to envision a multilingual Durham. "It's a very respectful perspective to believe Durham can achieve that."