By Adithi Nythruva
Since the nation’s inception, immigrants have molded the United States into the “land of the free and the home of the brave.” From establishing successful businesses to introducing their cultural traditions, immigrants have worked hard to make a place for themselves in American society. For cities like Houston, which boasts being one of the country’s most diverse urban areas, the efforts of its immigrant communities are evident on every corner. From its architecture and paintings to small restaurants and shops, immigrants have left their cultural legacies in a journey that Veronia Fahys knows all too well. Fahys became a naturalized citizen in 1992, but her road to the United States wound through numerous cities and countries before she settled in Houston.
Veronica’s paternal grandparents, Francisco and Ivanka Zuzek (pronounced Shushek), fled Slovenia as refugees with their children shortly after World War II. Although the Axis powers had occupied the republic during the war, the Communist Party rose to power afterward. Like many Slovenians and families from the other five republics making up Yugoslavia, the Zuzeks gambled on a new life by escaping the communist regime. Veronica’s maternal grandparents, the Mele family, also fled from the wartime violence, which saw cities on the Slovenia-Italy border shift national boundaries. Veronica’s elders spoke of “[living] in different refugee encampments in Italy and in Germany,” waiting for a country to accept them. When her parents, Andres Zuzek and Isabel Mele, were about five years old, Argentina opened its doors to them, having passed a new constitution affirming that family background would not determine its immigration decisions.
Following the war, a robust Slovenian community developed in Buenos Aires; for Veronica’s parents, it felt like home. After attending college in São Paulo, Brazil, Andres returned to Argentina, where he married Isabel, and they started a family. Veronica was born in Buenos Aires on November 21, 1970, and was just two years old when Texas Instruments transferred her father to Rio de Janeiro to continue his work as a geophysicist.
Today, Veronica cherishes her memories of Brazil, having spent many days visiting beaches with her younger brother and mother. The moves exposed Veronica to a unique blend of Slovenian and Latin American cultures, including the languages. By the age of four, she was proficient in speaking Slovenian with her parents and Portuguese with the housekeepers and visitors to their home.
In 1975, Veronica moved again, but this time Texas Instruments relocated the family to Richardson, Texas, a large Dallas-area suburb. Veronica felt the unfamiliarity of her surroundings compared to South America, from navigating a city lacking public transportation to the challenges of learning a third language. She recalls playing with other children and struggling to comprehend what they said, despite trying her best to learn the language and adapt to her surroundings. Over time, Veronica and her brother learned English by watching public television programs like Sesame Street and The Electric Company. Looking back, she affirmed that learning multiple languages was much easier as a child than as an adult.
After a short stay in Richardson, Andres’s next work assignment, now with Exxon, took the family to Miami, Florida, in 1979. Like many immigrants, as Veronica became more acquainted with her surroundings, she naturally integrated the customs she grew up with into her American life. As she continued learning English in school, she slowly stopped speaking Slovenian with her parents and began responding to them in English, which became her primary language. Along with reading, writing, and speaking English in school and with friends, she also learned Spanish. At the same time, her proficiency in Portuguese faded with lack of use.
Veronica’s experiences with cultural assimilation offer a nuanced perspective to her story. On the one hand, she felt closely connected to her American identity like a U.S. citizen, but, on the other hand, she did not understand why she held a green card. In Miami, Veronica’s family found a tight-knit community of Argentinians. Even though her parents had befriended other South Americans in Richardson, Veronica found a “little South America” of her own in Miami. She described several get-togethers the family attended where a “South American spirit” flowed, and the parties with beloved friends lasted into the night.
When asked if she felt more Slovenian or Argentinian, Veronica said it was difficult to choose one identity. Instead, she related to both cultures in their own way. Unlike her cousins living in Argentina who were surrounded by other Slovenians and their activities, Veronica’s immediate family was her sole guide for understanding her Slovenian heritage. She knew Slovenia had been part of Yugoslavia “by force but not by choice,” and her pride for her heritage was innate. Through her elders, she knew she would always be Slovenian.
During a 1980 visit to Argentina at the age of ten, Veronica experienced an unexpected culture shock. Rather than feeling Argentinian in an American environment in the United States, Veronica now felt American in an Argentinian one in Buenos Aires. Some things were familiar, like the smells of fresh-baked bread in the streets or the diesel of passing buses, but other aspects were odd. The cars seemed smaller, homes lacked air conditioning, and the city was older than what she was used to seeing in Miami, which was a far younger city.
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