| The Ugly
American |
| American
Apathy |
| By Peter O’Dowd |
| December 2004
American apathy
for foreign culture began six hundred years ago when the first “Americans”
infiltrated tribes of indigenous people in New England. I can almost hear
the voices of those pioneering pilgrims lamenting the inefficiency of the
bow and arrow while slaughtering helpless natives with high-powered musketry.
These sad stereotypes
are proof enough for me that Americans have been cultural imperialists
since the moment they laid claim to the New World. Though the newest trend
of national snobbery is ultimately less violent, it’s certainly not more
acceptable. |
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| In a recent
effort to remain hip and bi-continental, thousands of juniors in college
will play hooky from their home campuses to traipse across Europe, photograph
the Great Wall of China, or toss boomerangs Down Under.
In what is
supposed to be an educational experience, these twenty-somethings often
forget where they are, why they have left home, and who or what surrounds
them.
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The result is
a massive, heaving throng of wealthy Caucasians that impose their own American
college culture - mainly booze, booze and more booze - upon the landscape
of some of the most beautiful cities in the world. |
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| Hundreds of
these historic cities dot the map across Europe, and after a four-day school
week foreign students board trains to invade each of them. There are too
many cozy hamlets and villages to see during the span of a semester, so
most students simply stick to those with the more grandiose reputations—Paris,
London, and the beacon of light known as Amsterdam. Young people don’t
ply the gates of Amsterdam for the quaint bike rides or for the colorful
visits to blossoming gardens. They search for mushroom palaces, hash bars
and live sex shows instead. The city was built for drugs and depravity.
Eyes, hormones, and brain synapses essentially explode upon entrance.
Amsterdam is
a year-round destination so psychedelic tales of substance abuse are never
hard to find. I met a blonde haired, blue-eyed American who decided to
walk to Germany and reclaim his fatherland while in the throws of a shroom
binge. He was nearly hit by a bus before crashing through the doors of
a fueling station. Oh my god! We must be in Texas! |
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| I found an
Exxon! He told me the rest of the story with a grin on his face. I knew
there was no road to Munich when I saw the arrow to Helsinki. That’s all
I remember. When I woke up the next day I found a business card in my wallet
“Americans Smoke Hash @ Live Sex Bonanza 4 Free.”
Dude, I love
that city!
Pair a weekend
with a location and the same story will repeat itself in some inane collegiate
fashion. Spain has Ibiza for sex and showers of liquor on the beach… Dublin
throws the most brilliant Saint Patrick’s Day party this side of Chicago...Prague,
located somewhere in a country most of us can’t spell, offers pints of
beer for a dime…And Germany… Well, the German’s have that Oktoberfest thing
down to a science. Hooray for beer steins, Ja!
All this traveling
offers more than just a chance to stay awake for twenty-four hours in a
drunken haze; it provides the weary student an opportunity to learn basic
vocabulary from each of the stops along the way. |
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| The Italians
call it birra or grappa, which is equivalent to a pint in the UK or a cerveza
in Spain. For the Germans it’s Bier and for the Hungarians the magic word
is chur. When ordering these frosty beverages, some lucky polyglot might
jokingly swap profanities with the bartender. This usually leads to fascinating
discussion….
“Va Fanculo!
HA HA! Hey Benny, you’re a pile of stinking BOZBACK!”
All that erudition
for just one year’s tuition.
I spent nine
months of my life in a city that throbs with life and history. Florence,
Italy, inspired Dante, it was the home of the Medici family, and the banks
of the Arno are foundations of cathedrals and palaces that are indifferent
to time. Like most cities across Europe, Florence is unlike any urban center
in the United States. But university students see it as a playground. |
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| They leave
empty wine bottles and homemade joints on the steps of Santa Croce, at
the foot of the Ponte Vecchio or in the fountains of the Campo di Fiore.
Americans do not understand the energy of these places. They spit upon
the ground and curse through the halls of the most important icons the
Western World has ever seen. Oh sure, there are always exceptions, but
all too often young Americans abroad see these monuments as they would
an attraction at Disneyland. Strapping themselves into a city while yelling
and screaming along the way, they toss their arms up in disbelief and say,
“Oh my gawd, how fun!” Afterward they vomit on the ground and leave
the mess for someone else to clean up.
Just like
potato chips and SUV’s, some kids regard foreign culture as something to
consume. In the process, they consider their own tradition of language
and behavior the custom while overseas. Most university programs require
their students to study the indigenous language. But Americans, for the
most part, don’t want to be bothered with a language that will never be
of use to them once they leave. They assume that every stranger speaks
some degree of English, so they never attempt to use their French, Italian
or German. Furthermore, when students speak English to a foreigner they
communicate as if that person were a member of their sorority back in California.
Okay, so like, if I want to go to that famous bridge, then uh, how would
I take the quick way? Hey, gimmie a pen. Okay wait a sec…The young woman
from Berkeley or Dallas rarely realizes that slang doesn’t function as
a form of communication for those who barely understand the standard edition.
The saddest
part of this cultural superiority complex is that those countries visited
by our young students are dependent upon the revenue they create. Walking
through Florence, one cannot avoid conspicuous signs in hotels and store
windows welcoming Americans. Students create their own industry. Though
they can scarcely pronounce it, Anglophones pay valuable dollars for their
authentic Fettuccini and Chianti. They put gas in their fuel-efficient
scooters, so the natives put up with it. But the question is, should they?
Do wealthy white kids who are privileged enough to attend a prestigious
university in the first place, have so much power that they can send native
citizens in to hiding once the lights go down? Does their good fortune
grant them the right to flood Prague in search of beer or the Netherlands
for the cross-country trip of their life? If Daddy is willing to write
the check, then many opportunistic Americans might say yes. But that is
exactly the mindset that most easy-going, respectful Europeans don’t understand.
Meanwhile,
schools continue to push their programs and sister organizations overseas
because they draw students who are willing to purchase the best package.
Administrators graciously hail the validity of their curriculum in advertisement
that begins before a student reaches the college level. Mickey Slind, the
representative for Butler University’s Institute for Study Abroad is proud
of those young people who chose to leave home. “I think that students
are continuing to recognize the value of an international experience. Given
September 11th, people are looking to see what opportunities there are
to understand people from other countries .”
Unfortunately,
officials like Mr. Slind have become too comfortable behind a desk to realize
that ‘understanding people from other countries’ often includes nothing
more than accruing novel drinking vocabulary. The truth is, even after
our nation’s biggest tragedy, some young Americans abroad are just as unattractive
and disrespectful as ever. For the rest of us who view foreign culture
as worthwhile and fulfilling, this snobbery just looks like a stinking
pile of Bozback.
To contact
Peter Click Here |
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