World Travel and The New Ugly-American

I just returned from a wonderful trip to Mexico where the people are open, warmhearted, and welcoming to all. I went to visit a friend who has had a dream--the true American dream--since she was young, to join the Peace Corps to help others in parts of the world that don't share many of the advantages we do. (Of course, if you're paying attention, you'll also know that they have many advantages we're short on: things like empathy and a willingness to help others even if they can't get anything from that person  in return, and the willingness to share what they have, even when they have very little.) 

Mascota, Jalisco, MX

Well, at least I believe that part of the American dream is to help others achieve similar levels of success to what we've done. When I think about our country, about our standing on the world stage, I see us as helpers. Whether it's been protecting freedom and democracy from fascism during two world wars, or sharing our technology, resources, and knowledge with other countries in the aftermath of those wars, or in the aftermath of natural disasters, the United States has always stood as a beacon of freedom, exploration, discovery, and above all, sharing with those in need. 

Or maybe that image is all in my mind. That's what I got--mostly--from textbooks and history classes: this idea of a noble patriotism, based not in shallow symbolism (flag waving, sloganeering, and Bible-thumping), but in scientific and engineering accomplishments, learning, and an unending abundance of goodwill toward humanity, regardless of nationality.

But now, all that's in question, isn't it? Were we every truly that way, or have we always been the selfish, loud, and petulant little kid that tagged along, annoying the more reserved, established, and reputable older kids on the block? Have we only been tolerated because of their good manners?

Everyone's heard the reputation of US tourists as "ugly Americans." Anyone who has traveled extensively for the purpose of broadening their horizons, learning about history and new cultures, and with genuine curiosity has witnessed the reason for that nomenclature. There are certainly a good deal of loud and abrasive tourists who love to go elsewhere just to reassure themselves that everywhere else is different--and therefore worse--than home.  

Ugly Americans. For a good summary of the characteristics of
this species, check out this blog post.

In my travels around Jalisco, Mexico, I had the opportunity to speak with Mexicans and Canadians about what's going on in the US these days. Their perspectives were eye-opening and a bit discouraging to someone who loves to travel and explore other cultures, geographies, ecosystems, and societies. 

For the most part, the Mexican people have something of a cynical/fatalistic/pragmatic view of government--what happens happens and we can't do anything about it, so just go on about your life and do the best you can. Yes, they can and do vote, but it's the money in the background that makes the decisions, not the voting public. While they empathize with the US's current plight, they've also found a silver lining: Hurray! At last, they don't have the worst leader in the world! Trump is making their very unpopular president, Enrique Peña Nieto, look like a hero for the working class people. I'm sure they're all getting a good chuckle over Trump shooting his own country in the foot with his temper tantrum over a wall. (I guess he doesn't know that our flat screen televisions, refrigerators, avocados, and a great deal of other foods we enjoy come from there, and their prices are all going to skyrocket if he gets his way.)

I think the funny-scariest part of their response is that they're calling what they're observing north of the border the "Mexicanization of the USA." With their vantage of hindsight--they've "been here, done this"--they know we're following in their footsteps.

Give that some thought! 

Solar lighting to "evitan el calentamiento global" (global warming).
Maybe the Mexicanization of the US would be an improvement, given their embrace and application of
scientific evidence and factual information is so much more advanced than ours?

Perhaps even more telling about our position on the world stage these days was the reception from Canadians when I was in Puerto Vallarta. They're usually pretty gregarious, but weren't. They'd politely say hello and talk generally about where they were from and for how long they'd be visiting Mexico, then turn away to diligently study their novel, phone, or start an intense conversation with someone else.

I wondered if I needed to shower or something, but passed the sniff-test. 

So, I sat in my lounge chair and listened in as they joked about how US citizens don't realize that they (Canadians) and the Mexicans are also Americans, how there's a whole other American continent to the south of us, and how we aren't A-mericans, but 'Muricans. Then I knew it was safe to initiate a conversation.

What they told me is that they'd been avoiding talking with any US Americans lest they be one of those "crazy, angry Trumpers." They are actually afraid, not just to talk with them, but physically afraid of them! They've seen the news, heard the stories, and heard Trump himself--as well as his supporters--bully, berate, and brag about using physical violence with anyone who doesn't wholeheartedly agree with them. Of course they're afraid. (Aren't we all?)

Image from Storify. Click to see 82 of the best Donald Trump cartoons on Twitter.

Yep...that's the reputation we now have around the world thanks to Trump and his ilk. The Ugly American stereotype has gone from a pleasant joke to a fear-filled and possibly legitimate concern. How long before other countries impose travel bans on us to prevent violent 'Muricans from entering their countries? "But the stereotype isn't true of all US Americans," you say. That doesn't matter to our government implementing bans on others, why should it matter to others when banning us? Don't forget--we're leading the charge to have a "facts-be damned" world.

These folks were from BC and Saskatchewan. There were others from Quebec. They all had questions about how the American people could be so stupid, so duped by a man who is--clearly to the rest of the world watching--a con-artist. I wish I had answers, but I could only share in their confusion.

The Mexicans are, as always, open, gracious, and happy to accept expats. There are many thriving expat communities all around Mexico, including in Puerto Vallarta. Nice to know that's an option, should we become refugees from an increasingly fascist and hostile government. 

Yerbabuena: a possible refuge in the mountains of Jalisco, Mexico.

Or Puerto Vallarta, if you prefer the coast.

The Canadians, too, said their communities are making plans and discussing how best to deal with the anticipated rise in medical visitors once the ACA is gone, and with an expected influx of American refugees as the racist, misogynistic attacks, abuse of academics, scientists, and other non-white, non-ultra-right increase. 

Or maybe Canada is more your thing? (image from @KalenaKalena on Twitter)

It's disheartening to know that now the default impression that people from other countries have of us is that we're all like the petty, vindictive little boy in the White House right now. It's also encouraging to know they're supportive and willing to help of those of us who aren't. 

Yep. This is what the morons who voted for the #LiarInChief (aka #BullyInChief) wanted. They got it, but sadly, so did the rest of us. 

We are now all labeled the new Ugly Americans. It will be assumed we are all ignorant troglodytes who'd as soon shoot a foreigner (or compatriot) as hear facts or have an intelligent discussion. People's first reaction, worldwide when they see someone clad in a baseball cap and running shoes (the uniform of the ugly American) will be to cross to the other side of the street, pull their children in closer, and avert their eyes. Trumpers may be dumb enough to believe him when he says, "I didn't do/say that" and "My supporters didn't do/say that"--even when it's captured live on television and shown again and again on the news and shared on social media around the world. The rest of the world isn't as easily gaslighted. They've seen what you're capable of and will protect themselves from it...from us. 

For those gullible, naive, or dumb enough (take your pick) to believe that the rest of us are upset because our candidate lost, I say a resounding NO! That's not why sane people protest and resist. 

Here's the reality of why we're upset: Because an angry, ignorant, belligerent fool now represents to the world the face of the US and of US citizens everywhere. Because his words and actions make us less safe in the world. Because he--and his supporters--don't represent my values, American values, Christian values, or decent human being values. He--and now the rest of us by association--represent the triumph of evil over good, greed over mercy, and ignorance over knowledge.

THAT is why we won't accept this. That is why we #resist

Big News on the Writing Front!

Marina Melee is being featured Monday at The Fussy Librarian!

The Fussy Librarian is a new website that offers personalized ebook recommendations. You choose from 30 genres and indicate preferences about content and then the computers work their magic. It's a great place for readers to discover new authors writing in the genres and style they want and for authors to connect with new readers. Give it a try!

How hard can it be to run a marina?

George H. Marshall III has it all, and he wants to get away from it: women, a busy social calendar, and his so-called career in the family oil business. Determined to prove to his parents that he is more than a spoiled, womanizing, over-aged adolescent, George buys Porto da Vida Marina on a small island in the Caribbean. What could be an easier road to business success than running a marina on a tropical island? 

As mishap piles on disaster, George realizes his new life in paradise isn't all about sitting under palm trees sipping umbrella drinks. Between his wayward staff, the governor's hot-to-trot wife, a lift truck possessed by jumbies, and a host of other island disasters-natural and human-George finds that living the easy life is hard work.


AND MORE BIG NEWS!

Ye Gods! A Tale of Dogs and Demons is scheduled for an April 1, 2014 release from Casperian Books!

Is it real or a myth? Dog only knows.

Author Jack Halliman sails to Puerto Rico seeking a cure for writer's block, but instead finds a dead body. When a second corpse turns up, Jack becomes one of two suspects. The other is the chupacabra.

Now Jack has to find out who--or what--is responsible for the killings before he lands in prison. Again.

As the conniving mayor, a dogged detective, and a voodoo practicing 14-year old drag him deeper into the investigation, Jack discovers that separating reality from myth is no easy feat. The lines between men and monsters, monsters and gods, and in this case, between gods and a dog, are thin and blurry.
 

On Completing 50...

 A few months ago, I wrote about the trials and tribulations of turning 50. You remember that (not you personally turning 50, but my blog about it), don't you? The wiry gray eyebrows, hot flashes and insomnia, wrinkles, sags, and bags? Then, I finished saying I'd keep you posted as I sat back and used an objective, scientific eye to observe and report on the process.

Not my eyebrows, but I swear sometimes when I
look into that damn magnifying mirror, this is what I see!

Well, that hasn't happened. I mean, I've been observing the whole process, in minute, gory detail. I've just failed to a.) be objective about it, and b.) report on it. So, now here I am 13 days away from my 50th birthday, wondering where the last few months have gone!

To be honest, I've discovered that turning 50 is really quite liberating. Not in the way I expected it to be back in my 30s when I thought, "damn, that's old" and not as I expected even a decade ago ("then I'll be so old I'll be able to just let myself go and it won't matter.) Instead, it's given me a new perspective and new freedom to look at life with new eyes.

I know, I know. How can 50-year-old eyes be new? Well, after having spent many a navel-gazing hour reflecting on my life (what else is there to do while floating around the pool? I can't read 'cause my reading sunglasses are polarized so I can't see my tablet screen, and holding a book over head becomes so taxing after a page or two for us old folk), I came up with a quick summary of my adult life. I really don't know if it holds true for everyone, only for me.

In my 20s, I knew everything. I had the answers. I was so much smarter than my parents had ever been. I'd never make any mistakes. I'd charge ahead full force and conquer the world, avoiding pitfalls and obstacles because I could.

Me, at 22.
Youth is so wasted on the young.

Ha!

In my 30s, I looked back on the hubris and arrogance of my 20s. What does youth know of hard choices and sacrifice. Or of hard work, for that matter? My 20s had been full of childish games and conceits. In my 30s, I worked hard and learned valuable lessons. That was my time. Before then, I thought I knew everything, but now, I'd learned--usually the hard way--just how young, naïve, and ignorant I'd been. In my 20s, I didn't know what I didn't know. That might be the only thing that let me survive that decade. With the new awareness that "the more I learned the less I knew,"  I was able to really grow and conquer the world in my 30s because then I'd REALLY learned everything.

Celebrating my 30th birthday with Julie.
She's been helping me celebrate for 20+ years now.
Despite that, we refuse to grow up!

Right.

By my 40s, I started to have some doubts about my knowledge base, but I knew I knew a whole lot more than I had before. I also knew that there would always be more to learn, that I'd have to keep an open mind forever to really continue to grow as a person. But I was confident in my ability to keep learning, absorbing, taking it all in. I'd be a lifelong learner, tackling new realms and pursuing new knowledge. The 40s would be my time to achieve life goals, have new experiences, take on the world on my terms with full awareness that I still had many lessons to learn.

Julie and I celebrated our 40th year with by getting tattoos when our day at Brewers Bay Beach
was rained out. Later that year, we did a group trip to Jost van Dyke with a group of friends
who'd all turned 40 that year and all lived in the VI at overlapping times.

Sure.

So, what do I think of all that aggressive, active pursuit of knowledge now that I'm staring down the eyes of 50? Who cares? I'm exhausted. Just thinking about all that wore me out. I had to go get a glass of wine and take a break. Not only do I now realize I don't know squat, less than a drop in the bucket of all the knowledge in the universe, but I don't care, either. The world is a big and fascinating place. No one person is ever going to know everything there is to know about it and no one expects me, or anyone, to have all the answers. Anyone who thinks they do, anyone who is fully confident that they're right is either young or an idiot. I no longer feel like there's some deficit in me if I'm not certain. That's what makes life interesting--the unknown. Fifty has given me the freedom to not worry about being certain and having the answers. If it's important, maybe I can find out about it, and if not, oh well. The world won't end. I have embraced my ignorance.

I've also bypassed the entire "turning 50" trauma by switching from "American English" thinking: I'm turning 50; to the chronologically correct Spanish term: Cumplo 50 años. On my birthday in 13 days, I will not turn 50, but I will have completed 50 years of life. Thus, rendering it too late for the trauma and drama of those pesky milestone birthdays because that year is now done, completed. Over.



Visiting in NY.

And a spectacular 50th year it's been. My second novel, Ye Gods! A Tale of Dogs and Demons was accepted for publication by Casperian Books (it'll be coming out in spring 2014), we got to see family in Chicago and New York and enjoyed our Hinkey nieces and nephew visiting us here, a spectacular visit with our best friends in San Diego, had all sorts of wonderful times with friends throughout the year, and expect a few more before my 50th year is complete (zip-lining in NC with the Gosses next weekend!)

Hinkey and Masaryk visit to SC

At the Birch Aquarium in San Diego with Misty and Terry

All in all, fifty is feeling pretty fabulous right now. With age doesn't necessarily come wisdom, but perhaps more wit to deal with it all, and enough exhaustion from those previous five decades to really not care about wasting energy on the things that really don't matter.

I can't wait to see what the next decade brings!

With Shana and Sheila at the Dirty Girl Mud Run
for Breast Cancer Awareness and Research.

The main reason life just keeps getting better all the time.
(Don't be silly. The giraffe was awesome, but I meant my husband, of course!)