I haven't met any fellow American travelers during this past week in Malaysia, but nonetheless other citizens of the world have been educating me on Americans.
I was using the computer one morning at my hotel in Georgetown - typing quick e-mails to multiple people, when a French man approached me. "How do you know how to type so fast? Without looking?" He asked. I shrugged and continued to type while explaining, "I use the computer a lot." Then Balding French Man launched into a windy one-sided conversation in his broken English about how easy it was for me to travel because I was an American. That I didn't even need to attempt other languages because everyone can speak English. It just wasn't fair! Did I even know how hard it was for him to travel since he was French?! I tried to explain to Balding French Man that I usually travel in Latin America and it is much more difficult for me there - but he didn't buy it. He wanted sympathy.
Later that same day I was having my lunch in a small cafe, reading my book and writing in my journal. A middle aged Malaysian man shouted hello from his table. Malaysian Motorcycle Man wanted to know how I liked Malaysia and where was I going, what was I doing here, where I was from, etc. Then Malaysian Motorcycle Man told me that not many Americans ever visit Malaysia. Actually, according to Malaysian Motorcycle Man, most Americans don't travel much and Americans believe that Malaysians still live in the tree tops. When I tried to tell him differently, he didn't seem interested because he had read these facts about Americans in a magazine. No debate necessary.
During my last day in Penang, I was heading up the stairs to my hotel room when the Chinese hotel owner asked if I was from France. I was flattered, but I told him I was from the states. Upon hearing that, his face dropped and he became very serious and sad. Chinese Hotel Man said that Americans were obsessed with war. Can't they see how terrible it is? Why won't Americans stop sending troops to be killed? I didn't bother to tell the Chinese Hotel Man differently this time and wished I would have just answered "Oui je suis de la France!"
Last night at my new hostel in the Cameron Highlands, I found myself surrounded by English chaps in the shared dormitory. Their English accents were so thick I wasn't sure English was their first language until I learned they were all from England. The English Chaps all had their own assumptions of what America was like without ever having traveled there. Will it be warm in August? Are there islands in America? Why don't Americans swear much? As the American representative, I didn't have to explain the last question because his English mate assured him - that in fact he had just met an American last week with a proper potty mouth. I was glad to hear that Americans had found some way to be proper.
