Ricardo Turco
Aug 27th, 2007, 11:11 pm
As you can probably imagine, much has happened since I returned to Buenos Aires from my exciting eleven-day, twelve-night vacation in northwestern Argentina and southern Bolivia a month and four days ago. I’m gonna tell you what’s gone on, so sit down, get yourself a cup of tea, and read carefully.
First off, I switched host families. When I lived with my first host family, I felt really uncomfortable and couldn’t relax because the environment was always tense. I didn’t have a problem with the mom, but the son, Nicolás, was just a jerk who sucks at being a son and host brother. Whenever he talked to his mom, he’d be a total (insert obscenity you deem fit) to her. He rarely ever talked to her normally. When I say normally, I mean not yelling at or disrespecting her. I remember this one time his mom was in the shower and someone rang the doorbell. Instead of opening the door, he knocked on the bathroom door and told his mom someone came, so she had to get out of the shower and open the door. I was thinking about opening it myself, but I thought it was best not to intervene in their affairs. Another time he yelled at his mom for about twenty minutes straight (he might’ve gone on longer—I don’t know because I had to leave the house to get some stuff done) because she didn’t make breakfast for him that morning. He asserted that she had to make breakfast for him since he’s her son. What? You’re twenty. A typical Argentine breakfast is coffee with crackers. It’s not that hard to make!
Furthermore, Nicolás rarely ever talked to me. Most of our conversations consisted of “hola” (hello) and “chau” (bye) and nothing more. I tried to start conversation with him on numerous occasions, but that never got anywhere. Oh, and get this. Whenever he invited his friends over, he would never introduce them to me, so there were a bunch of times where I was just surfing the Internet in my room while he was out in the living room with his friends, having a good time. We didn’t have to be best friends or anything, but he could’ve at least showed some courtesy and talked to the guy that was paying a ton of money to live with them.
Apparently, I’m not the first person to complain about Nicolás. The student that lived with the family the semester before me left a note warning me about him, and the student that lives there now has made the same observations. I can give Nicolás some pity points since his parents got divorced a few years ago and his dad died not too long after, but there is simply no excuse for his behavior.
Besides having a jerk for a host brother, I had some other problems with my living conditions. To begin with, I had a tiny room with almost zero natural light. The only natural light I had filtered through the curtains over the windows that faced the kitchen. I didn’t even have a view of the outside. And because I was right next to the kitchen, I had very little privacy. I couldn’t even talk on the phone or Skype without everyone hearing me. They understood English, so I was never able to complain to my family about how much my host brother sucks while my host mom and brother were home. So after seriously reviewing my situation, I decided to jet.
I moved in with my new host family on July 26, the day I got back to Buenos Aires. (Well, I guess you could argue that I moved in earlier since I dropped my stuff off at their place the night I left for my trip, but that doesn’t really count.) After living with them for slightly over a month, I can say I’m much, much happier here. There isn’t as much drama, I have a big room with a balcony and natural light, and the food is excellent.
The family is totally different from the previous one. While my old host mom was a 58 year old travel agent of Spanish descent, my new host mom is a 70 year old “retired” homemaker and the daughter of Lebanese Christian immigrants. And my new host brother? He’s a 43 year old lawyer. Actually, calling them my host grandma and host dad would probably make more sense.
Norma, my host mom, is quite the character. Although you’d think she’s sluggish and frail given her age, she’s quite upbeat and “hip.” She’s always out and about and tells me I can bring a girl back to my place the nights she goes out (no, I’m not like that). She’s also an awesome cook. While I ate pretty much the same food every week at the other house, I’ve eaten a huge variety of food here, including hummus. On the down side, I get annoyed with her on a daily basis because she just has to pile food onto my plate. It really gets to me when people insist I eat more even though I say I’m full. I’m not a little kid; I know how much I wanna eat. Nonetheless, I’m far more content than annoyed with her.
And then there’s Carlos, my host brother. He’s interesting. Once I was praying isha and couldn’t stop laughing because he was “singing” in the shower. No offense, but he sounded like a mentally-impaired, Argentine version of Fat Albert. One thing I don’t get about him is how he always calls me “Ricardo Turco,” which means, literally, Richard Turkish (adjectives generally come after nouns in Spanish). He calls me turco because I’m Muslim and South Asian, but I have no idea where the Ricardo part comes from. I don’t really understand why he says it so much either. He almost always says “Ricardo Turco” when he passes my room, even when my door is shut. I’m not offended that he calls me that. It’s just weird as hell since it doesn’t make any sense.
Oh, about the term turco. Argentines generally refer to anyone Middle Eastern as turco, or Turkish. Because the majority of Arab immigrants came from the Ottoman Empire, they became known as Turks to the ignorant public. It’s really misleading considering the terms Turk and Arab aren’t interchangeable one bit, but turco is still widely used. Carlos knows I’m not remotely Middle Eastern, but I guess Ricardo Turco has a better ring than Ricardo Bangladeshí.
Enough about host families. Let’s go on to other stuff.
I’m actually excited about classes this semester. Well, one of them. I’m taking three classes: two political science courses and an independent study about Argentine Muslims. The research project entails a thirty-page paper (in Spanish) about the history, culture, demographics, institutions, and perception of Muslims in Argentina. Should be fascinating. Not much has been written about the manifestation of Islam down here, so I’ll be one of the few to do an in-depth investigation. I’ll definitely keep y’all posted on the interesting facts and figures I find.
While most of you haven’t seriously considered visiting me in Argentina, my ex-roommate Hareesh kept his word and came down for six days. We explored Buenos Aires, spent a day in Uruguay, got solicited by hookers multiple times, went to the tranquil suburb of Tigre, watched Ratatouille and an Argentine chick flick, and ate a lot of delicious food. Fun times. Hareesh, gracias por visitarme. I feel loved.
Wait, wait. I’m almost done talking.
Never mind. I was about to say something, but I’ll just save it for later. Hasta luego.
