I have been working with a young Ecuadorian lady, Micaela, for years for Spanish conversation practice via Skype. She is interesting, curious, and intelligent. I pay for an hour of her time on iTalki, but we frequently find ourselves still conversing 10, 15 and on occasion 20 minutes after our allotted time, if she does not have a class backed up against mine. She does have one trait that reminds me of my son. She frequently plays Devil’s Advocate to whatever I say. Sometimes I think this is just her personality, but I sometimes think it is her method of keeping the conversation going. I have mentioned Devil’s Advocate Micaela in previous posts.
Awhile back we were having a conversation of which I do not remember the theme. For some reason I made the comment, “soy americano”. I most likely used the phrase “I am American” because the Spanish word for someone from the United States of America1, estadounidense, gives me fits unless I say the word really slow and carefully enunciate each syllable.
Her response to my statement was, “Soy americana, también.” What I discovered is that as a native of Ecuador, one of the 122 or so countries of South America, she considered herself an American too. She went on to explain to me that folks on that continent have a vague resentment towards the United Sates for co-opting the word American. Hmmm… I had never really considered that as all my life I have been saying I am an American… from America.
Just as an aside we once had a some what heated debate about how many continents there are in the world. If you are interested here is a link: Cultural Diversity – How Many Continents Are There?
We recently returned from a week in Mexico. If you have ever been to Mexico or Central America this time of year, you know that you cannot swing a dead cat without hitting a Canadian. This held true at the resort we were at, but I would say it was Canadians or Germans being pelted with this dead cat.
I’ve been trying to avoid having political discussions with anyone, and particularly with strangers. However, Robin and I started visiting with a couple about our age who turned out to be Canadians, hopefully not too bruised by my dead cat. Almost invariably, when they discovered we were from the United States, it turns to El Pendejo in the White House. I told him I voted for the sane, competent woman. He stuck out his hand to shake my hand. As the discussion continued, probably due to El Pendejo’s catch phrase, Make America Great Again, he mentioned that as a Canadian, living in North America, that he too was an American. He doubled down on this by saying as a person with First Peoples (Native Americans in Canada) blood, he felt this doubly so.
Turns out the Canadians resent our co-opting the name American also.
I have always felt that as a nation, we are very parochial. A little research revealed that we are not particularly unique in this. We are, basically, a very tribal species. Somehow I had hoped or thought as a First World nation, we might have grown out of that “me first” attitude.
I have included a video from about 8 years ago during the first Trumpian disaster on this theme. It is in Spanish, but I think even without knowing the language you can get the message… We are all Americans in this part of the world. Now to convince your random Bubba of that.
Footnotes:
- Just as an aside, look at peso of whatever denomination, you will see the phrase Estatos Unidos Méxicanos, United States of Mexico.
- There are also a few protectorates like French Guiana.