BootsnAll Travel Network



Archive for the 'American Identity' Category

« Home

Encounters With a “Spectacular Fuck-Wit”

Tuesday, February 27th, 2007

We’ve been indulging ourselves lately: eating fancy foods, drinking non-swill beer, and watching rugby games on ESPN at the highest Irish Pub in the world. On one such, non-swill-beer-drinking, rugby-watching occasion a rather drunk young man from London decided to join our table, which would usually be fine, except that he didn`t seem to realize that we actually wanted to finish watching the game.

He started the conversation by asking us where we were from, to which we responded with our usual short-hand of “California” even though that is by no means true. Lucky for us, he hated Californians. “Every Californian I`ve met has been terrible. I thought you guys were supposed to be laid-back! You’re all aggressive and obnoxious. I like Texans. I met one guy from Texas and he was really laid back.” Ummmm… okay. Maybe you should go back to the bar away from the scary aggressive Californians and let us watch the game. But we had no such luck. Maybe he stayed because Megan`s actually from Seattle and is therefore too polite for her own damn good.

Luckily he pushed away from the Californians-are-terrible conversation and, without hesitation, jumped into the Americans-are-even-worse conversation (our favorite). “How many Americans does it take to ruin the world?” He asked. Gee, guy, I don`t know, how many? Around the same number of Brits it takes to colonize the entire planet? “No… 51%! Ha ha!” You know, it’s actually a pretty funny joke, and we both let out a little chuckle. Usually in these types of conversations (they pop up pretty frequently) our anti-Bush credentials save us from long winded diatribes. Not the case with our British friend, who seemed to have had his face in his cups for a while. He started off strong: “After September 11th the world was with you, I mean, everyone was behind you. It took a spectacular fuck-wit to mess that up.” We nodded, because, yes, it was, sadly, true. It did take a “spectacular fuck-wit” and we just happened to have one at the ready. If the conversation had ended there it would have been just another time Europeans had tried to bond with us by telling us how stupid our president and, by extension, our countrymen are.

But, it didn’t end there. Two minutes later after we explained that, yes, we did, in fact, understand the rules of rugby (to his utter shock), he decided that he hadn`t made it quite clear how much Europeans hate us. “I mean, I don`t know if you know, but after September 11th the world was with you, I mean, everyone was behind you. It took a spectacular fuck-wit to mess that up.” Um… okay… got it the first time. We explained to him that we had spent months travelling around the country going door to door to try to convince people that a “spectacular fuck-wit” was running the country. He responded by saying “You’ve got to go home and tell everybody that after September 11th the world was with you, I mean, everyone was behind you. It took a spectacular fuck-wit to mess that up.” Um… yeah… guy… we tried that. “No, but I don`t think you understand! After September 11th the world was with you, I mean, everyone was behind you. It took a spectacular fuck-wit to mess that up. Europeans don`t elect stupid leaders.” At this point we had both hit our limit. Not because he was dissing America, but because he was an idiot.

“Gee, guy… last I checked you guys were in the war, too.”

“Yeah, but more Brits were killed by Americans than by Iraqis, in BOTH gulf wars!” He retorted.

“Well then, you guys should wake up and stop tromping off into wars behind us. That seems like a pretty spectacularly fuck-witted move, blindly following a bunch of soldiers who keep turning around and shooting you.”

“Yeah, but, you don`t understand… after September 11th the world was with you, I mean, everyone was behind you. It took a spectacular fuck-wit to mess that up.”

Ummmmm…. wow. I mean… wow. We would have been long gone by that point had two other fellas, both quite amiable, not joined our table. One other Brit whom we’d actually run-into twice in Ecuador and an Irishman who was awesome even though we couldn`t understand a word that came out of his mouth. Our original Londoner had informed them when they joined our table that we were from California and that he hated Californians. They were polite enough not to laugh. He also made sure to tell them, at least three times each, that “after September 11th the world was with America, I mean, everyone was behind them. It took a spectacular fuck-wit to mess that up.”

Strangely enough, when we packed up our bags to go, after an evening of insulting each one of our identities in turn, he leaned over to Sarah and whispered “I’m really very attracted to you. If you leave now I’ll cry.” Wow, the guy had some moves. It’s a wonder the women weren’t knocking down his door.

We left and Megan patted him a little too hard on his shoulder. “See ya, buddy.”

In other news, we went to Machu Picchu yesterday. Pictures to come.

-Las Dos

In Which Megan is Publicly Humiliated Twice in One Day

Tuesday, February 20th, 2007

If there’s one thing Megan hates more than anything else, it’s being asked to stand up in front of a bunch of strangers and do something… you know, like call a bingo game. Because of this hatred, today was quite an adventure.

We had organized a tour of Las Islas Ballestras, often referred to as “the poor man’s Galapagos” because a tour costs $10 instead of $1500 and you still get to see boobies and penguins and sea lions. So, a guy picks us up at our hotel this morning and brings us to the tour bus where we join loads of other tourists. Weirdly, after we’ve been driving for maybe fifteen minutes, the guy that picked us up says: “Sarah? Sarah? You guys get off here.” We look around. No one else moves. We follow the guide to a pier, where the early morning anchovy catch is being packaged, and sit down on guano-strewn docks to watch the dolphins and wait for the rest of our group. Half an hour later, we’re sitting in the boat, the captain is spilling his guts about his ill-advised marriage at age 16, and the rest of the group still hasn’t shown. And then they do. Turns out our tour consists of the two of us, the captain, and about fifty seven-year-olds dressed in school uniforms which announce that they belong to the “Escuela de los Bomberitos” (School of Little Firemen). Cute, until you’re sitting in their vomit three hours later.

At one point on the journey the aforementioned captain explained to the two of us and the fifty bomberitos that the seas were going to get rough. “Don’t worry” he said, “if the weather turns I’ll sacrifice the two North American tourists to the gods. You know, fresh, white meat.” The bomberitos thought that was very funny. Other than the spectre of our impending doom, the boat was pleasant, the kids well behaved (even while vomiting) and besides a little nausea, both of us were safe to watch the sea lions and penguins.

Later in the day, on a bus from Pisco to Nazca (where we are now) there was another incident. Now, in South America, guys often times get on buses and give 10 to 30 minute speeches, often comical, which segue into the selling of caramels or just asking for money. One such gentleman entered our bus today and started his spiel. Everything was fine (usually, these folks assume we don’t speak Spanish and so basically ignore us) until he brought down a sports bag and insinuated that there was a cobra inside. The bus became, quite understandably, nervous. Since Megan was sitting on the aisle, right next to him, she craned her neck to see whether there was, in fact, a mortally dangerous snake less than a foot away. He capitalized on this move, grabbing her hand and sticking it in the bag, to a soundtrack of gasps and shrieks, and proved, thank the Lord, that there were only candy bars inside.

So began Megan’s second career as a “helper to the guy who does strange comedy routines to sell candy bars on Peruvian buses.” He asked her the usual questions, where are you from, what’s your name, do you want to take the guy sitting behind you home to the States with you, would you like to touch the killer snake I’ve got here in my bag… and so on. Then he decided, for some unfathomable reason, to involve Megan in a marriage proposal skit. He would declare his love, teaching the men on the bus the proper way to woo a lady, and Megan would respond in some way that would probably involve nervous laughter. She was unsure what this would entail, and hoped it would involve the least amount of Spanish speaking possible. He complimented her eyes, her hat, said their love was hopeless but he wanted to try anyway, and generally employed every love cliche in the book before requesting a hug. Megan complied, abashedly. The bus loved it, and everybody bought a candy bar. Even us. We’re such suckers.

At least Megan’s fever had subsided by this point.

-Las Dos

Encounters With the A*r F*rce

Sunday, February 11th, 2007
We promised to let you know how the movie (La Oscuridad or The Dark) was and so, good to our word, we will. It was creepy. It was weird. It involved welsh folklore, blonde look-alike children, and ... [Continue reading this entry]

Must See T.V.

Friday, February 9th, 2007
Hey everybody in New York City and surrounding areas: Watch Brick by Brick: A Civil Rights Story TONIGHT on channel Thirteen / WNET at 9 pm. It's FABULOUS, as is the man that made it. -Sarah P.S. Congrats ... [Continue reading this entry]

In Which Sarah and Megan Judge Other Travellers (Unabashedly)

Tuesday, February 6th, 2007
Although we have both learned a lot about Central and South America, about history, about ecology, about politics, about cultures... we may have learned more about white travellers from "developed" countries. There's a lot of them about. And mostly they're ... [Continue reading this entry]

Ingapirca

Saturday, February 3rd, 2007
We got up at the crack of dawn today to catch the one bus Ingapirca. Woo hoo, we thought, our first major Incan ruin! Flat stones that miraculously fit together without morter, the largest South American empire, centralized ... [Continue reading this entry]

Top Ten, Ecuadorian Style

Tuesday, January 23rd, 2007
Quito is a marvelous city: it has great public transportation (a trolley!), walkable streets, a beautifully kept-up colonial district that has managed to remain a center of daily Quiteño life instead of a tourist trap, and hot showers. But, ... [Continue reading this entry]

Burning Piles of Trash

Saturday, December 30th, 2006

flower
Originally uploaded by skavanagh.
There is a ... [Continue reading this entry]

A Guatemalan Thanksgiving

Friday, November 24th, 2006

San Marcos on Thankgiving Day
Originally uploaded by [Continue reading this entry]

Madonna´s Hamburgers

Tuesday, November 7th, 2006
So I suppose it´s my turn to discuss Spanish school and the frustrations of learning a new language. For example, my teacher today asked me if I ate McDonalds´ hamburgers. I thought he asked me if I ate ... [Continue reading this entry]