Archie the Armenian
Sep 3rd, 2007, 12:32 am
Nothing particularly exciting has happened in the past week, but stuff has happened nonetheless, like the weather getting warmer. Highs have been in the 60s, lows in the 50s. This unusually cold winter is coming to a close. Being a man of the Northern Hemisphere, I still can’t get over how the seasons are flip-flopped down here. What kind of a messed up world do we live in where it’s winter in September?
Last Sunday, I walked over to one of the many locutorios, communication centers where customers can make phone calls and access the Internet, located by my place to send a fax to my insurance company in the US. I gave Archie, a middle-aged man with gray hair and a mustache, the sheets and the fax number. While he was faxing away, I noticed he was killing time by reading the photocopy of my passport. After all the pages went through, he asked me if I was Arab. This is how the convo basically went:
Archie: ¿Sos árabe, no? (You’re Arab, right?)
Me: No. Mis padres son de Bangladesh. (No. My parents are from Bangladesh.)
Archie: Ah. Sos budista entonces. ¿Pero naciste en Estados Unidos, no? (Ah. So you’re Buddhist then. But you were born in the United States, right?)
Me: Sí. Yo nací allá, pero soy musulmán. (Yes. I was born there, but I’m Muslim.)
Archie: Allahu ackbar. (God is great.)
Me: ¿Dónde aprendiste eso? (Where did you learn that?)
Archie: En Afganistán, cuando estaba en la Unión Soviética. (In Afghanistan, when I was in the Soviet Union.)
Me: ¿Sos de Argentina? (Are you from Argentina?)
Archie: No. La Unión Soviética. (No. The Soviet Union.)
Me: ¿Sos de Rusia? (Are you from Russia?)
Archie: No. Armenia. (No. Armenia.)
We then continued to talk for the next twenty minutes or so. As many people do after I tell them I’m from the US, he asked me why the hell I was in Argentina, which he described as basura (trash). As I was trying to tell him why I was living here, he grabbed a small piece of paper and wrote something like “1 U$D = 3.15 ARS,” the exchange rate of US dollars to Argentine pesos, and said, “Te gustó eso” (“You liked that”). Of course, I didn’t come here to party it up and take advantage of the shaky economy. Why must everyone think I’m so rich boy American here to blow all my money on expensive food, women, and wine?
Archie told me that he came to Argentina from Armenia as a political refugee in 1999, not speaking a word of Spanish. Back then, the Argentine peso was pegged to the US dollar, so Argentina was an attractive place for immigrants from all over (he didn’t say that, but I’m guessing that was part of Argentina’s attraction for him). And then the economy crashed in December 2001, bringing the country into a severe economic crisis. However, according to Archie, there was no crisis. He said it was artificially created by the government to allow for a coup. I dunno about that. It could be true, but I dunno because I haven’t looked into the details. There definitely was massive unemployment and economic uncertainty during that time, so I don’t know how he could deny the existence of the crisis. Well anyway, he vented his frustration that he was a civil engineer with a master’s degree working in a locutorio. I could tell he was frustrated with his life. Yeah, I can definitely see myself being pissed off if I had a good job in another country and was forced to flee to a place where I don’t speak the language and take a job that pays little and then the economy crashes. He said he recently found an engineering job in Quebec and plans to move there with his wife and kids (I don’t know if they came with him in 1999 or joined him later) towards the end of this year. Insha’Allah, that’ll work out for them.
We had a nice chat. Of the many topics, he explained the cultural differences between the Armenians from Armenia and those from Iran, Turkey, and other countries. He was the first Armenian I had really talked to, so I learned a lot. And as usual, I talked about Bangladesh, Muslims, America, etc. Cool guy. He said to come by on Sundays, which is when he works there.
After living in Buenos Aires for more than six months, I finally feel at home. Because I’m fairly familiar with the city, I can generally get from point A to point B without problems. In fact, I probably know this place better than my hometown, which is much, much, much smaller. Plus, my Spanish has improved immensely since I moved here, so I don’t feel as intimidated. I remember how much I dreaded my first bus ride alone. It was my first week here, so my Spanish sucked, and I didn’t know the city. But now, I’m so used to taking public transportation because it’s a part of my daily routine. Unfortunately, I’m gonna have to go back to the US just as I’m getting comfortable here. Sigh.
As I was leaving the subway station after jummah yesterday, I saw a woman wearing a colorful hijab and a light-brown jilbab. I was contemplating whether or not I should say salaam. I kept walking, but then I decided to go ahead and do so because it’s not like there’s many Muslims here, so we gotta stick together. I told her I’m Muslim, and then she smiled and pointed at a guy that was leaving the ticket booth, who was her husband. We talked for like two minutes, and he gave me his card. They’re both from Turkey, and he’s working in an Argentine-Turkish cultural exchange foundation. And then I realized his wife probably couldn’t speak Spanish, so that’s why she just smiled and pointed at him. He ripped off a corner of his card, which I think had his personal info on it. Ha ha, he was probably uneasy about giving his personal info to a random guy he met in the subway station. Makes sense.
As time goes on, I continue to get the feeling that someone is following me around when I’m in a nice store. Does a young, dark-skinned young man like me look suspicious? I know there’s a stereotype that Bolivians, Paraguayans, and Peruvians are thieves and delinquents, so maybe I often get mistaken for being one of them. Or maybe they’re just always vigilant, and I’m being paranoid.
But then again, I’ve realized I’m more on my guard when I’m walking the streets at night and see brown people, so I really shouldn’t be surprised if a well-off white Argentine gets suspicious if they see me in an expensive area. I never thought this would happen, but all the negative stereotypes I’ve heard about other Latin Americans have subconsciously affected me. It’s unfortunate but true. We all have stereotypes of the “other,” whether we admit it or not (and I’m not even from this country!). We’re all prejudiced in some way or another, and it’s impossible not to be bigoted at all. No matter what society you live in, you’re gonna hear something negative about some group, and I find it hard to believe you can completely expunge those beliefs from your system. You can lessen their effects on you, but they’re always gonna be in the back of your mind. Yeah…
Anyway, I don’t feel like writing anymore, so I’m gonna stop right here. Chau.