The call of “¡Oh capitán!” at New York’s last Spanish-language bookstore

Ramón Caraballo, an immigrant from Cuba, got his start in the business of books selling works by Gabriel García Márquez and other Hispanic greats on the streets beneath the 7 train tracks at 82nd Street. He saved enough to open a Spanish-language bookstore on the border of Elmhurst and Jackson Heights, not far from his home. 

At the time, it shared the New York City landscape with the likes of Librería Lectorum and Librería Macondo, but now, his Librería Barco de Papel Comunitaria, which translates to Paper Boat Community Library, finds itself the last of its kind afloat – and without its founder. Caraballo, affectionately known as “el capitán” of Barco de Papel, died on Dec. 7.

Rather than a funeral, Caraballo wanted his legacy to continue through neighbors’ support of the bookstore, according to his partner and co-owner, Paula Ortiz. If the recent outpouring of tributes is any indication, it will. Last Monday, about 40 people crowded the space to honor the shop, gathering with other bibliophiles, browsing books and participating in food-based raffles. 

The other Latin American boom 

Parts of the space haven’t changed much in recent years: the face of Márquez, which has always adorned the storefront, is featured in a black-and-white stencil grid of authors largely from the Latin American fiction boom of the 1950s and ‘60s. And Ortiz still runs a tight ship with help from a bevy of volunteers. But Caraballo is no longer there to trade pose questions about life for his answers to book requests. 

Caraballo’s social enterprise took shape during another Latin American boom, as immigrants settled in Jackson Heights, Corona and East Elmhurst. As one of their volunteers reported, Barco de Papel was initially centered on the needs of immigrants and their children. Over time, more and more parents asked for Spanish-language books to keep their kids tied to their culture. 

Caraballo and Ortiz, a Bronx high school biology teacher, found creative ways to meet the need, such as hosting a children’s story hour called “La Hora del Cuento.” A cadre of volunteers began helping at this and other events, including book and poetry readings. A decade ago, Caraballo and Ortiz co-founded the nonprofit Centro Cultural Barco de Papel, formally establishing the bookstore as a multi-use space beyond the shop — one that primarily serves new immigrants and the next generation. 

The staff at Art Retail Therapy, another hub for immigrants and creatives in the area, have referred Spanish-speaking customers to Barco de Papel since opening their shop nearby. “It’s rare to hear a name repeated with such positivity and love from so many folks,” Charlie Márquez said in a text. “Ramón and Barco de Papel have always been about […] highlighting artists, helping writers and really providing a loudspeaker for literature and the arts. They are actually the true definition of ‘for and by the community’ — without ever having to use a buzzword.”

Buena Vista lunch club

Caraballo will also leave behind a social club of sorts: A group of retired men used to eat lunch outside the store and shoot the breeze with him about everything from politics and religion to the simple pleasures of wine. 

One of them, a building superintendent, said his body is programmed to take him to Barco de Papel when he goes for a stroll. While Caraballo was his main conversation partner, he still stops by to chat with Ortiz and the volunteers. For many of the regulars, it became a settled habit, said Ortiz, as with the tailor across the street who came every day until he passed away during the pandemic. 

“Selling books wasn’t always the point,” Ortiz said in Spanish. “Ramón was the glue. People came for advice, to vent. He was someone people could talk to.”

Before Caraballo fell ill, he was the more front-facing presence, while Ortiz primarily handled operations: applying for grants, organizing readings and coordinating the space. On the day Epicenter visited, she was juggling a grant deadline, entertaining a frequent visitor, coordinating a small mutual aid operation and onboarding a retired nurse who wanted to volunteer. 

Such volunteers have helped keep Barco de Papel afloat through illness and lean times. Two have been involved since they were 16, starting with La Hora del Cuento; they’re now 33. As a whole, they’re a motley crew of students, urban planners, writers and others committed to literacy and building community. 

They take on tasks based on their skills: One is a trained librarian who handles alphabetizing, while others manage social media or add pizzazz to the store. For the holidays, they set up a display of Kraft paper-wrapped surprise books by the entrance, each sealed with scarlet wax and tagged with a handwritten clue.

A few longtime non-Latino volunteers joined in part to practice their Spanish. Neil Landreville, a nurse who retired from Elmhurst Hospital 14 years ago, now wants to be one of them. Landreville, who has lived in Jackson Heights for nearly three decades and worked with Spanish-speaking doctors for two of them, has long seen the bookstore as an essential “third place,” as community refuges outside work and the home are sometimes called. 

“For people who don’t speak English, it’s very important,” he said. “And for people who are trying to bridge the community.”

Marlen Castro, a school aide at Renaissance Charter School in Elmhurst, is one of those people. For years, she has brought students and teachers on field trips to the bookstore. Between the volunteers who guide you toward books you’ll enjoy and the sense of camaraderie among them, Castro said she feels right at home.

“We need to keep this place going,” she said in Spanish. “It’s a blessing for everyone — nowadays it’s hard to find places like this.”

Librería Barco de Papel

40-03 80th St., Elmhurst, Queens

(718) 565-8283

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