I Think I Met One

Occasionally on the expat blogs and forums the cliched term “Ugly American” emerges to describe obnoxious behavior by a gringo.

After much hand wringing and teeth gnashing this brute is righteously condemned and the topic goes dormant.

Priceless entertainment for me.

An American who owns a PhD and a bookstore in Ecuador, wrote a ponderous academic style paper about Ugly Americans he has observed in his new country. His sourced the 1958 book titled the same by Burdick and Lederer about arrogant America's then relationship with southeast Asia. You may remember the movie starring Marlon Brando.

Though the scholarly work is not written for the Internet thus tough to read, it lit a buzz among long time foreign residents justifying I-was-here-first-and-you-can-bugger-off attitudes.

It's also has been cited by newbies contemplating a move from the U.S.

One asked, seriously, whether he should remove his facial hair lest he offend Equatorianos (that's the correct term) who don't usually grow beards or moustaches.

Like I said, priceless.

Being an outsider is lonely and you don't want to antagonize. The delightful irony, though, is that they unintentionally insult their hosts way more than any one loudmouthed idiot. They patronize.

It's really stereotyping and prejudice. “Projection” if you want to go Freudian.

Everyone in the world knows that a jerk is a jerk regardless of location or origin. Most smart people don't generalize bad behavior to others with similar backgrounds. The ones who do are, well, jerks.

I think I met an “Ugly American” though.

Waiting in the Quito airport for my flight to Cuenca. Lots of Eddie Bauer clad gringos, ponytailed hikers, outdoorsey women, and Ecuatorianos going about their business.

A couple just south of senior sat next to me. They were nicely dressed and the wiry man appeared somewhat older than his wife. They were softly speaking American English and because it was nice to hear I said “good morning”. The man looked at me without a trace of humor and inquired “is it really a good morning?” I responded, perhaps a bit smartass “for me it is, how about you?” He looked away.

His wife stared at the floor but I noted an echo of a smile. Though I suspected I was being put on, she and I exchanged the normal stuff about country, state, status, and plans.

Since they live in Cuenca, I asked for advice. Her eyes glittered with mischief as she cryptically replied “don't go to places that you shouldn't be in”.

Their location provided easy access to VEGETARIAN (emphasis his) restaurants because he is a VEGETARIAN. (ok, maybe I am guilty of jerkiness but it seems that vegetarians usually need to quickly let you know that they are VEGETARIANS.)

He said no when I asked whether he owned a bookstore. No blog either. He opined, though, that the country was wide open with opportunity because the people here are way behind in their vision and ambition. (Uh oh...)

He doesn't think the folks in this country are ready for him. All the while, his wife smiled and once I spotted an eye roll with a short giggle. It dawned on me that their marriage was a true symbiotic balance.

Our carrier, LAN, sensibly instructed us in Spanish and English, three times that they will board the passengers beginning with the back rows and then the front rows last. No first class on a 45 minute commute.

I got in line first after the hostess saw my row 23 pass. She admonished the man and his wife to the back of the line because their row was 3. He wasn't having it. Good ol' American “moxie” he said, was required. The last time I heard that word spoken was on the Mary Tyler Moore show in the early 70's by Lou to Mary.

He walked to the front and beckoned his wife. She confided that they usually get asked to step out when he does this. She wished me well and then followed him.

This time the document checkers allowed them through. He looked back with a smug smile.

When I boarded, this couple was putting their substantial carry-on luggage into the compartments around them while I and about 2 dozen others waited to pass. After they situated I worked by and said “You know what? You got moxie. I hate moxie”. He gave me a hard look. His wife burst out laughing.