As an American who’s been living and working overseas for more than 15 years, I often find myself pondering the question: how do the local folks I encounter on a daily basis see me? Am I viewed as a benevolent foreigner, a cultural disruptor or merely a nuisance that can either be ignored or tolerated? Since nationality is often one of the first things that comes up when meeting a local or another expat in a foreign land, it’s pretty awkward trying to completely avoid the subject, which is something I often attempt to do.
That isn’t to say that I’m ashamed of being born an American, or a ‘Canadian’ as I often proclaim when traveling in certain regions of the world. Compared to my Indian and Arab friends, I realize I’m incredibly fortunate to have the freedom of international movement that’s allowed by having a ‘preferred passport’. With only a few notable exceptions, it allows me (visa-free) freedom of movement across international borders while individuals from many developing countries are required to pay a fee and wait weeks (or months) to obtain a proper visa prior to traveling. Dealing with that kind of bureaucracy for months in advance could be enough to discourage even the most enthusiastic traveler. So yes, I do feel lucky.
Impromptu greeting in Istanbul.