books
American cheese
l
An excerpt from Oksana Marafioti’s upcoming book, “American Gypsy: A memoir” By oksana marafioti | Photography chase stevens
Las Vegas is a city of transplants, but Oksana Marafioti’s transplant story is unique. She is a Roma who emigrated from the Soviet Union to America when she was 15. And the part of America she arrived in wasn’t your typical slice of apple pie and baseball: In tow with her family of performers, she landed in Las Vegas. Today, she finds a welcoming home here — particularly valuable to Roma people, who still face entrenched stereotypes that paint them as untrustworthy wanderers, thieves and mystics — summed up in the racial slur, “gypsy.” “I’ve found complete acceptance in Las Vegas,” Marafioti says. Oddly, that acceptance is because of the relative rootlessness of Southern Nevadans, she explains. “The people who move here, I’ve discovered, are gutsy people who want to start a new life. People here have this huge reserve of nerve that few people have. Home really is in the people you meet, not necessarily in the places you go.” Her book, “American Gypsy: A Memoir,” is being published this month by FSG Originals. She reads from and discusses her book 2 p.m. July 14 at the Clark County Library. The event also features dancing and live music. — Andrew Kiraly ***
“I’ve found complete acceptance in Las Vegas,” says Oksana Marafioti, who emigrated from Russia.
20 | Desert
Companion | July 2012
The woman on the other side of the desk scribbled in her files. I studied her with interest: perfectly manicured nails, killer perm, and a beige pantsuit with the American embassy ID clipped to the left breast pocket. She warmed us now and then with one of those smiles that make you want to ask its owner to be your child’s godparent even if you’ve only just met. She didn’t look like someone who held the fate of my family in her hands. Before the interview that morning, Mom had instructed Dad not to speak, for two reasons. First, he couldn’t complete a sentence without swearing. And second, but more important, he always said the wrong thing. The woman looked up from her paperwork. In a version of Russian that made me