Privilege

While on a recent vacation in Europe, I found that there are, generally, two types of Americans who travel abroad.

The first type tends to be polite, use their indoor voices, and are keen to discover new places, cultures, and people, and learn about foreign countries from a different perspective to what they’ve learned stateside.

They may try to learn at least a little of a foreign language when possible, and they willingly acknowledge that the whole world is not English-speaking.

The second type tends to believe money talks. Regardless of their economic status, these people have reached the point of being able to afford a European vacation, whether they’re company CEOs or they’ve saved for the vacation of a lifetime.

Having reached this status, they often exhibit a sense of entitlement. I call them The Privileged, “knock this chip off my shoulder” type. They are American in all caps.

This second group is often loud, quick to take offense when things don’t go their way, and appear to think they already know everything about the places they’re visiting and the people who live there. They are looking to have their opinions reinforced.

They also are likely to have the attitude that everyone in the world speaks English; foreigners simply pretend they don’t to make things difficult.

I know what you’re thinking: these are stereotypes. No one is exactly like either of these descriptions. But stereotypes are based in reality, even if they take it to the extreme.

I have met people who fit very neatly into each of those categories.

Most people are a combination of the two, and depending on how the day is going for them, show more of one or the other.

Those who exhibit more characteristics of the second type are the ones who embarrass the rest of us. They also tend to be the ones Europeans remember as Americans.

We’ve all had an “ugly American” moment when weather, disappointment or the hassle of packing and moving from place to place just gets to us.

The problem is that many Americans look on this not as rude but as “just having a bad day,” with no explanation or apology necessary. Some people act as if it is our right as Americans to expect the best, and insist that we get it.

I have seen this so much when traveling that it is refreshing to find Americans who are empathetic, polite and considerate of those from different cultures.

Yes, we’re considerate – usually – with other Americans, but we can often be more abrupt than those of other cultures are used to.

The “This is who I am; get over it” attitude is precisely what Europeans find distasteful.

The attitude doesn’t end when Americans come home, either.

Those who cater to the tourist industry welcome having their guests leave comments on sites such as Trip Advisor.

I use this site to help decide where to book when I’m planning a vacation. And I leave comments about the places I’ve stayed, as well.

I admit, I have few requirements: clean sheets and towels, a working shower and a bed with no bedbugs. While a television is a nice touch, and these days expected, unless I’m traveling alone, I probably won’t turn it on, especially in a non-English-speaking country.

While a dripping faucet or a drafty window can be irritating enough to disturb sleep, other things people complain about (drab curtains, tired carpets or even a creaky floor) make me shake my head.

I once traveled in a group where one woman complained that the walls in her room were dirty! This was in a new hotel, and no one else had that experience.

Sure, mentioning that the rooms could use an update might be a valid suggestion. But some people seem to have nothing to say except whether or not they liked the color of the room, the carpet or the lighting fixtures, and then give a low rating as if they worked for Queer Eye for the B&B. They say nothing of comfort, security or the quiet factor of the room.

I once stayed in a B&B where I’d read the complaints about the layout of the bathroom. (It had one; I was good with that.) The main issue was that there was only about 2 feet between the sink and the door. It was a single room. I found the distance adequate to get from the toilet on one side to the shower on the other. When I reviewed it, I suggested that people who found it too narrow a space simply leave the door open. It was a single room, after all.

I’ve also read reviews from Americans who ripped a B&B to shreds because the batteries in the remote for the TV were dead.

Really? Did you ask for new ones?

The management doesn’t generally know about these issues unless a guest mentions it. Maids are there to clean, not check TV remotes.

My experience, whether with a B&B or a hotel, is that management is more than willing, with great apology, to quickly remedy issues like batteries, towels and assorted other problems. They will work with guests to make accommodations on things that can’t immediately be fixed, like Wi-Fi dead spots. But the guest needs to speak up.

I find it odd that the Americans who are willing to loudly complain about cultural differences will wait until they get home and put issues like batteries in their complaints about their accommodations.

It’s true that Europeans can also be critical of places to stay. But on the whole, they tend not to be as harsh in their ratings over minor inconveniences.

My attitude when traveling is that, like it or not, I am representing my country when I travel abroad. My behavior will affect how others view Americans.

Do I always behave like the model tourist? Admittedly, no. But I do try, and when I fail, I try to make amends.

A European vacation is an opportunity to learn new things, and I try to learn as much as possible.

Americans who can afford to vacation in Europe should not use that as an opportunity for arrogance.

An American tourist should not expect better treatment simply because of national origin.  Because of some tourists, the reverse might end up being the case in some places.

You are not just a guest in another country. You are an advertisement for whether or not others should come to visit America.

The only privilege should be the chance to see new places and learn new things. It should not be a guest’s expectation of entitlement simply for having been born in a land of opportunity.

Gadgets

I have been accused of having to be dragged, kicking and screaming, into the 21^st century. This, I believe, is not only untrue, but also an unfair assessment of who I am.

People assume that, because I don’t have the latest model of something, I’m somehow not modern.

Not so.

I like gadgets as much as the next person. But frequently I find myself saying, “That’s really cool. What do I do with it?”

Despite having a laptop and a Surface, I wanted an iPad – or I thought I did.

When I got my smartphone, my phone company was running a special deal on iPads, so I got one.

Cool.

Except the only keyboard is on-screen.

I’m a tactile kind of person who prefers the feel of a real keyboard. But I can deal, except that I tend to make a lot more mistakes with an on-screen keyboard. Like the phone keyboard, it tends not to be whole hand, much less two-hand friendly.

And then there’s the fact that the iPad has no thumb drive compatibility, so anything on the iPad is non-transferrable to any other device unless I send my work via email. What a hassle!

So, my iPad is basically only used for an Irish language app that I use because the iPad screen is better for that than a phone screen.

Oh, but you can take pictures with it!

Yeah. There’s nothing dorkier, in my humble opinion, than using something that cumbersome to take pictures.  That’s what seniors do to try to prove they’ve come into the digital age to so they don’t have to use their reading glasses.

Oh, but games!

Do I look like I’m 10? I have no desire to get roped into Fortnite.

I spent several months once playing Diablo in my free time instead of doing something useful. I couldn’t get past a certain level in that, and realized, eventually, that all I was doing was raising my cortisol level for no very good reason. I can do that driving to work every day.

And most of the game apps seem to be the same game in different colors.

Having to wait through commercials is annoying, and I don’t like any of the games enough to pay a monthly fee for them just to skip the commercials.

Of course, I can use it for answering emails or social media. But I prefer my laptop for that, since it has that nice clicky keyboard that has room for two hands typing.

The only thing I hate about my laptop is the more modern thing on it: the touchpad. No matter how I try, I can’t get the cursor to cooperate, so I have to use a mouse, instead. I’m good with a mouse. I just wish the mouse disabled the touchpad the way it did on my previous laptop.

“Why don’t you just use the touch screen?”

I don’t mainly because I usually forget it has one. I find the mouse faster, anyway. And, since it’s already connected –

So I get called a Luddite.

The first time someone called me that I had never heard the word before. Someone had to explain it to me.

But that’s not who I am.

I also have a Surface, for no better reason than I thought it was cool.

What I like about the Surface is that it’s lightweight, dual voltage, and has a detachable keyboard for those of us who prefer tactile keyboards. And, I can attach a mouse and use it just like a laptop. I mainly use it for travel.

What I don’t like about it is it’s slow on the internet. I don’t spend much time answering emails or going on social media when I’m using it because the slowness is so frustrating.

Of course, that’s a good thing on vacations. I’m not distracted by the internet. The main reason I bring it with me is to download my pictures and title them daily so I don’t forget which castle or cathedral I have a picture of.

Yes, I can feel your eye roll. Yes, I use a digital camera. A DSLR. One of those big things.

Why?

It was an upgrade from my 35 mm camera that I still have but seldom use. It takes much better pictures than the phone or a point-and-shoot, and I can do a lot more creatively with it. I don’t have to limit my photos because of the expense of film, and I don’t have to worry that an entire vacation’s worth of pictures didn’t come out. On my honeymoon, I lost an entire roll of film somewhere between England and Ireland.

I still prefer the ease and the feel of the 35mm over any other camera I’ve ever used.

But you have an iPhone, you say.

Yes, I do. It’s a phone. I use it as a phone and to send texts. 

True, it has a camera, which, in my opinion, takes so-so pictures. It’s good for that in a pinch, but not for real photos.

As for the keyboard, it’s slightly better than the one on my old flip phone, but hardly something I could comfortably type emails, much less a blog on.

And as for reading, in a pinch, for brief periods, I can use it in place of my Kindle.

Yes, I have a Kindle. I got it for reading when I travel. It’s probably 10 years old by now, ancient by tech standards. But it works. And it’s smaller than the Surface, so even though I have the Kindle app on all of my tech appliances, it’s more convenient on a plane than pulling out the Surface, and easier to read than using the phone. And it still works, so I don’t need an upgrade. And I can read it outside, which I can't with other devices.

But I do prefer real books.

Even my iPhone is now two years old. It’s a 6s that I got a few days before the iPhone X was released. Why didn’t I get the X? Who would spend over $1,000 on a phone in the first place, much less one that will be considered obsolete in two years? And then, there are “improvements” that I don’t want or like. My 6s works, and is a convenient size. It will meet my needs until it no longer works.

I’m not opposed to new things. I was raised to take care of my things. When I was a child, if I broke something, I didn’t get another one. Now, if I have something that works and meets my needs, I see no reason to get another one. It rankles to have to replace something that works because the internet companies have rendered it redundant.

I will say that I like the GPS on my phone much better than the independent GPS that I had. That was difficult to program and didn’t work in other countries.

But I will never be attached at the hip to a phone.

I originally got a mobile phone because the powers that be had done away with pay phones. Because I travel long distances for work, my husband thought it was necessary in case of emergency.

Even Superman had to make adjustments.

So, although I have a variety of gadgets, they’re not necessarily the most up-to-date ones. And that doesn’t bother me. Call me what you will, but I’ve never been one to cave in to peer pressure, whether it was to smoke cigarettes or buy an iPhone X.

And as for my blogs, I write them by hand in cursive before they ever make it to the computer. Call me old-fashioned if you wish, but I do what works best for me.

Peeves

No matter where I go, people don’t seem to understand my way of thinking.

But then, I don’t understand theirs, either.

I’ve long dreaded going to all-female things, like baby showers, wedding showers, or even the Ladies’ room at a party because of the conversations they will inevitably lead to.

It seems that whenever more than two or three females are gathered together, conversations often tend to begin with, “Men are such…” and you can add your own derogatory word – babies, pigs, etc. It seems to be an all or nothing put-down of the male of the species.

I feel a need, in those situations, to come to the defense of the men, since they’re not there to defend themselves. I don’t like generalizations about any group of people.

“I’m sorry, but I refuse to accept that generalization from anyone who propagates the myth of PMS,” I have said in many of these situations.

I am met with glares and evil looks, even when the people I’m with have no idea what half of those words mean. They know a put-down when they hear one, and I am suddenly the enemy.

I once worked in an all-female department of occupational therapists. You would think that highly-educated people would have a modicum of propriety.

 But no. 

In addition to the “men are such” sentences, they seemed to have some primordial need to announce their periods and other no-one-needs-to-know-that subjects.

A woman entering the room with a package of salted peanuts and a candy bar  -- or simply a Reese’s Peanut Butter Cup – feels compelled to say that she needs this because she is “PMSing.” 

Really! 

Couldn’t you just let us assume you’re feeling a bit peckish and leave it at that?

While it may be fine to tell your significant other, your mother or your best friend – in private – about your bodily functions, it is, in my humble opinion, highly inappropriate to discuss these things in public. Particularly at work. The exception would be if there was some sort of emergency related to it.

I know in my 43 years of being cursed with such a waste of my time, only twice did I ever discuss what was going on  with my body,  and both were emergency situations – and highly humiliating. I certainly don’t want to hear about someone else’s bodily functions.

One colleague in particular, used to relish the discussion. If I were in the room, I would cut her off with, “Do you come out of the bathroom and discuss whether you went  #1 or #2 as well?” (I only put it in such babyish terms because that’s the way my “highly educated” colleagues preferred to talk.)

She seemed offended. It never occurred to her that her discussion offended me.

For a while, we had a male OT in our department. During his year or so working with us, all of these inappropriate conversations ceased. It was a relief.

Unfortunately, once he left, they resumed. 

I also don’t need to know about your hot flashes, your incontinence or a litany of your medications. If your baby was not conceived the old-fashioned way, I don’t need to know. TMI, folks, TMI.

Of course, work isn't the only place people feel the need to discuss bodily functions.

There are baby showers. 

Is that supposed to be some rite of passage, to make the poor pregnant woman suffer? I can’t imagine that someone who’s eight or nine months pregnant is comfortable in the first place. I think she’s well aware of the labor to come.

But at every shower I’ve attended, there are multitudes of women anxious to share, in gory detail, the massive extent of their morning sickness, how many hours of labor they endured with each child, and how inept their husband was in the delivery room – or the myriad reasons they wouldn’t have wanted their husband there, if they were of an older generation.

Even decades after giving birth, these women can recount every gory detail. It makes me wonder how they could possibly love a child who caused them such unforgettable distress.

“Oh, you forget after they put that sweet baby in your arms,” they say. 

But they apparently didn’t.

Of course, now you’re saying to yourself, “You know, men say things about women, too.”

Yes, I know. Women are cows, nags and bitches – and worse. 

I find that just as reprehensible. I tend to take it personally.

Ok, yes, I can agree that at times I have been a bitch. 

It’s being called a nag that offends me.

I do not nag people. I’ll say something once. If the other person doesn’t respond, my assumption is that it’s their failure. They don’t respect me. They aren’t willing to be helpful, or in some instances, do their part.

Point taken.

And when the point is taken, don’t expect me to volunteer to be in any way helpful to that person ever again, or to be part of a group that they’re in. Trust and respect are earned.

Maybe it’s cold, but you can’t accuse me of nagging. Don’t lump me in with those women at the baby showers. I will only remind someone of something they were supposed to do if they ask me to.

If you don’t believe me, just ask my husband.

P.S. When my husband proof read the blog, he noted that the last sentence is true!