I am an American

We haven't met any other Americans on the road. We've heard about one in the travel circuit gossip circles, an American riding a Royal Enfield through India, but we haven't actually met him.

We met a couple, a Swedish girl with a Malaysian boyfriend, in Udaipur who told us of this American -- they had gone on a camel safari with him. It becomes a point of conversation when people meet us. "Oh, you're the first Americans we've met on the road," or, "There aren't many of you traveling, are there?" When we met our Dutch friends several days later in Jaisalmer, they told us of the American as well -- they had met him in Vietnam some months earlier and saw him again the previous day. Funny thing is that he'd told them about the Swedish/Malaysian couple. The travel circuit reinforces the notion of a 'small world'. It's also a bit of a 'bubble buster' -- making the exotic and adventurous world of extended travel seem almost commonplace as everyone is running into each other, directly or indirectly.

The first question asked of us by every Indian we meet is, "What country?" I've heard other travelers complaining about this -- it gets tiring to be asked the same question all the time -- this one is usually followed up with 'first time in India?' or 'how long are you here?' or 'what do you do?'. We might as well wear t-shirts with all of the answers printed on them so we can skip all of this inane small talk and get to the point, which most likely has something to do with their pockets and our money going into them.

When Indians ask us what country we are from, we usually say, "California."

"Oh, Copeecorneea," some reply with a look of confusion while nodding their head, feigning knowledge of this strange land. Some have asked to see our Copeecorneea currency.

We don't say this to play with peoples' minds or to confuse them on purpose. We answer the question in a roundabout way because we don't like the association made between us and President Bush, war, and global imperialism. In addition, I believe that this conversation starter, "What country?", is a way of sizing tourists up. Every tourist leaves an impression in the locals' minds on the nature of their compatriots. I've heard from Indians how the British spend a lot of money and how the Dutch are cheap. I figure if they're going to scam me out of money because I come from a rich country, they should earn their pay... so I'd prefer to keep them guessing.

The more educated people know that when we say 'California', we are from the U.S. "America..." they say, "you're the first Americans I've met in a long time." Most people accept us with friendliness, despite the fact that to everyone BUT Americans, America is a country to fear for its power. One Indian told me that many in his country consider Bush the biggest terrorist on the planet.

When people find out we're Americans, the conversation inevitably leads to the reelection of George W. Bush. No one -- people from North America, Europe, Asia -- can understand why the American people put him back in office. They look to me and Benjamin for some answer, some nugget of information that will suddenly make it all clear... like those pictures that they sell at cheezy art stores in the mall, the ones made up of a bunch of fuzzy dots where if you squint your eyes and stare, an image of a boat or a spaceship or some such thing will appear. I've never been able to make out the picture -- and I've certainly never been able to figure out what Americans see in Bush.

The Indians always express their dislike of Bush. We tell them we don't like
Bush either, while pointing at our heads to make the international 'he's cuckoo' gesture with our fingers. They tell us that all of the Americans they've met say the same thing, that they don't like Bush. "If no one likes him, how can he be president?" I guess it boils down to the fact that Indians don't meet Bush supporters because they won't admit it or they don't travel... or maybe they are telling people they are from Canada, as many Americans are doing these days.

I just met an American woman in the hotel lobby as I was checking in. The hotel clerk pointed at my passport and said to her, "Another American." She replied, "I see that, the poor girl..." Then she turned to me, "Aren't you embarassed? I tell people I'm from Canada. It's just easier that way." Apparently a few years ago, when the war was in full swing, she adopted Canada as her country when she got off a train to find someone painting 'Down with American imperialists' on the wall.

But I am bad at telling lies... the only time I used Canada as my country, I was asked what province I was from. Geography lessons from the 4th grade failed me. Luckily, I was offered the answer... after a pause the shop keeper asked, "Toronto?" While it's a city rather than a province, I said, "Yes! I'm from Toronto."

Aside from being bad at lying, I'm also proud to be from America -- the idea of America, that is -- maybe it's not the America the world knows today, but I'm not one to desert a friend who's made a mistake. Every time I travel, I rediscover the great things about my country... from simple things like clean air and paved roads to the more complex things like social structures that allow women freedom and people to deam of a better future. I don't want to turn my back on America by pretending I'm from Canada -- maybe if people meet Americans who are traveling, their opinions of America will change.

A shop owner in Rajasthan told me, "It's good that you are traveling from America, so people will meet you and know they should not be afraid of you (Americans)."