Monday, November 13, 2006
The other travelers
In Nicaragua, we have met and remet the same travelers, most of them European. The majority are wonderful -- interesting, chatty, not obnoxious. They all speak some Spanish, with the exception of a very drunk old man who asked me to interpret for the bartender. He wanted more booze and the name of a young Nica woman across the bar. There are a lot of old gringo men just like him in Nicaragua.
But sometimes the other travelers get under my skin, usually by asking me if I´m pro or anti Bush. I hate that question. I hate it because it´s obvious what they want to hear, and I hate it because it implies that those people who voted for Bush are either bad or stupid.
Two nights ago, a pretty Dutch medical student asked me the pro-anti-Bush question. We were riding through Nicaraguan jungle on the back of a pickup truck, and my butt hurt. The monkeys howling in the distance were beginning to irk me, and I was nervous that the poisonous coral snake might fall from a tree into my lap. Branches kept scratching at me, and I wasn´t in the mood to indulge yet another European tirade.
Instead of answering her question, I asked her if she had met any Americans in Nicaragua who like Bush. She said that she hadn´t met any Americans in Nicaragua. That´s because they´re working, I replied a little icily. Unlike you Europeans, we don´t get months off from work and grants from our government to go find ourselves in Latin America.
She ignored my retort, saying, I don´t understand why you Americans don´t rise up against Bush. I´ve heard many people in my parents generation ask the same thing, reminiscing Vietnam era activism. I think the answer is simple: Draft Ivy Leaguers, and you´ll get your activism.
That´s not what I told the pretty Dutch girl. Rather, I said that Americans seem to believe in their political system. We believe in our constitution, the oldest one in the world, which was written so that decision-making can´t get too out of hand. You could argue that Americans did rise up against Bush on Tuesday, I said, when they voted Democrats to head Congress. I also noted that many Latinos took to the streets earlier this year to oppose immigration policy.
You didn´t answer my question, she said. Are you pro or anti Bush? I told her that what I believe shouldn´t matter a lick. I´m not a citizen, so I can´t vote. Seemingly satisfied, she spent the rest of the truck ride ranting against the United States. The Australian and Canadian joined in, happily proclaiming the U.S. a police state. Hating on the States is a traveler´s favorite pasttime.
I´ve heard these rants before, from my French relatives. Americans are fat and unhealthy, Americans hate Arabs, they hate Jews, they cheat their own people of health care, they are too stupid to rise up against Bush. The travelers start out timidly at first, but once they get going, fueled by the group, they don´t consider that we´re from the U.S., that we might have something to contribute. But they want to lecture us about where we are from, and more often than not, we let them.
On my better days, I try to understand them. It is frustrating to watch the all-powerful U.S. do whatever it pleases in the world. It is frustrating to many Americans as well.
Levi hates the anti-America rant from Canadians, but the Canadians don´t bother me so much. Rather, the Germans drive me nuts. Don´t get me wrong -- the Germans on this trip have been kind, warm and willing to switch to English just to include us.
But one day, the Germans got a little off-track. They started talking about how we Americans weren´t very educated about what´s going on in our country. When I suggested that they may not be all that enlightened about World War II, one woman lashed out. We are sick of having World War II shoved into our heads, she said.
One more beer in me, and I would have said that my grandmother must have been tired of Germans shoving themselves into her during those five years. I did say that my grandparents were tortured during the war, and that though they never spoke of the torture, they talked about the war incessantly while we were growing up. Same as Americans must know about slavery, internment camps and how reservations came to be, Germans must know about the second world war.
There´s an Israeli we´ve befriended who has dismissed the German travelers. He´s a big, goofy guy, filled with stories, jokes and insecurities that make us love him all the more. But when we invited him to join us and the Germans the other night, he told us that he hates the Germans. Why? I asked. They killed my grandmother, he said, only half-joking. They tortured mine, I replied, as if our German friends had anything to do with either tragedy.
It´s probably hard to learn about World War II if you´re not from one of the countries that won the war. It´s also hard when people like David and me say what we say and find comfort in it.
But sometimes the other travelers get under my skin, usually by asking me if I´m pro or anti Bush. I hate that question. I hate it because it´s obvious what they want to hear, and I hate it because it implies that those people who voted for Bush are either bad or stupid.
Two nights ago, a pretty Dutch medical student asked me the pro-anti-Bush question. We were riding through Nicaraguan jungle on the back of a pickup truck, and my butt hurt. The monkeys howling in the distance were beginning to irk me, and I was nervous that the poisonous coral snake might fall from a tree into my lap. Branches kept scratching at me, and I wasn´t in the mood to indulge yet another European tirade.
Instead of answering her question, I asked her if she had met any Americans in Nicaragua who like Bush. She said that she hadn´t met any Americans in Nicaragua. That´s because they´re working, I replied a little icily. Unlike you Europeans, we don´t get months off from work and grants from our government to go find ourselves in Latin America.
She ignored my retort, saying, I don´t understand why you Americans don´t rise up against Bush. I´ve heard many people in my parents generation ask the same thing, reminiscing Vietnam era activism. I think the answer is simple: Draft Ivy Leaguers, and you´ll get your activism.
That´s not what I told the pretty Dutch girl. Rather, I said that Americans seem to believe in their political system. We believe in our constitution, the oldest one in the world, which was written so that decision-making can´t get too out of hand. You could argue that Americans did rise up against Bush on Tuesday, I said, when they voted Democrats to head Congress. I also noted that many Latinos took to the streets earlier this year to oppose immigration policy.
You didn´t answer my question, she said. Are you pro or anti Bush? I told her that what I believe shouldn´t matter a lick. I´m not a citizen, so I can´t vote. Seemingly satisfied, she spent the rest of the truck ride ranting against the United States. The Australian and Canadian joined in, happily proclaiming the U.S. a police state. Hating on the States is a traveler´s favorite pasttime.
I´ve heard these rants before, from my French relatives. Americans are fat and unhealthy, Americans hate Arabs, they hate Jews, they cheat their own people of health care, they are too stupid to rise up against Bush. The travelers start out timidly at first, but once they get going, fueled by the group, they don´t consider that we´re from the U.S., that we might have something to contribute. But they want to lecture us about where we are from, and more often than not, we let them.
On my better days, I try to understand them. It is frustrating to watch the all-powerful U.S. do whatever it pleases in the world. It is frustrating to many Americans as well.
Levi hates the anti-America rant from Canadians, but the Canadians don´t bother me so much. Rather, the Germans drive me nuts. Don´t get me wrong -- the Germans on this trip have been kind, warm and willing to switch to English just to include us.
But one day, the Germans got a little off-track. They started talking about how we Americans weren´t very educated about what´s going on in our country. When I suggested that they may not be all that enlightened about World War II, one woman lashed out. We are sick of having World War II shoved into our heads, she said.
One more beer in me, and I would have said that my grandmother must have been tired of Germans shoving themselves into her during those five years. I did say that my grandparents were tortured during the war, and that though they never spoke of the torture, they talked about the war incessantly while we were growing up. Same as Americans must know about slavery, internment camps and how reservations came to be, Germans must know about the second world war.
There´s an Israeli we´ve befriended who has dismissed the German travelers. He´s a big, goofy guy, filled with stories, jokes and insecurities that make us love him all the more. But when we invited him to join us and the Germans the other night, he told us that he hates the Germans. Why? I asked. They killed my grandmother, he said, only half-joking. They tortured mine, I replied, as if our German friends had anything to do with either tragedy.
It´s probably hard to learn about World War II if you´re not from one of the countries that won the war. It´s also hard when people like David and me say what we say and find comfort in it.
