I haven’t posted new content in a few weeks, and now, what’s worse, I’m ‘blog borrowing.’ I’m not too hip on blog etiquette, so here’s hoping it’s kosher (and promising some fresh content in the near future).
I’ve so thoroughly enjoyed browsing other people’s blogs these days, as opposed to pinning down my own recent thoughts & experiences, perhaps becaue I have too much time to think and in my over-analyses I’m tending to be quite moody, ie. not fun blog content for you readers.
But this entry is fun! While browsing through the blog archives of a fellow traveler that I met in Paraguay, I landed on “Por favor, Meeester Bush.” I’m not the laugh-out-loud-while-staring-at-a-screen-type (Seinfeld being the sole exception), but this one definitely brought out a chuckle and the post is worth a read; particularly because in one iteration or another I’ve had this exact experience while traveling over the past eight years (Morocco, Mexico, Japan, Brazil all have their Bush anecdotes). And sometimes, you just get tired of defending your personal integrity as an American despite the current administration (“but who actually elected him, then, comes the frequent response to my I sure as hell didn’t!“), and in response, have to simply smile and laugh.
Por favor, Meeester Bush!
I don’t want to politicize this blog, I just wanted to relate this little tale briefly, because it was a major event in the course of my travels.
My roommate and I went down to a field near our house to play some pickup soccer. We got there to find a bunch of guys in their late 20s and early 30s playing a very impressive match. They let us join in with the usual jeers and everybody had a good time.
We were taking a (much needed) break between 10 minute halves, sitting around on the sidelines just chatting, when they asked us where we were from. “Estadounidenses, somos.” I responded – we’re Americans.
“Estados Unidos?” they repeated, reasonably shocked (they don’t get many American visitors…the entry visa process is a real pain). There was a microsecond pause as they coordinated telepathically, launching into the same joke simultaneously.
“OOoohhh Meeester Bush! No me tires. Boom! No me mates! jajajaja cuidado las bombas! jajaja no me golpes! BOOM! jajaja”
As if you need a translation:
“Oh Mister Bush! Don’t shoot me (some put hands in the air, others mime holding a machine gun)! Boom! Don’t kill me! hahah lol! watch out for the bombs, guys! haha don’t blow me up! BOOM! (mime being blown apart from the chest) hahaha! lolz!”
It was no big deal to them. It really was just a joke to them. They still let us play, they treated us the same as they had before, and invited us to play again with them next time.
But to be honest, the whole exchange made me sick to my stomach. It wasn’t their fault – they were just purveyors of the cultural humor with which everybody else has been too polite to entertain.This needs to end.
