The American Abroad: You're No Gadabout

Immediately, people think that two American girls in Thailand automatically spells trouble -- we are either going to be imprisoned for drug smuggling or enslaved in the sex trade. That's only true in the movies -- so why is that the first thing that comes to mind when there's an American in Thailand? Because only American travelers are stupid enough to do that.

It's not only Americans who think they make bad travelers, it's everyone. If you have a U.S. passport you're automatically an obnoxious drunk, a bad driver with an indecipherable accent, and all you eat is McDonald's. You're culturally void.

So how do you kick the "stupid American" stigma if you're abroad? You surround yourself with professional travelers. In Thailand, along Khoa San Road (the backpacker's ghetto) they're a dime a dozen. They're the badass-adventurous types from all over the globe who scour Southeast Asia in search of their next adventure -- we called them gadabout backpackers. And they'll solve any problem you've got.

Problem No. 1: Conquering the bathrooms. In our guesthouse was a four-foot by four-foot room with a sink, an empty bowl, a spigot, and a bucket -- it was our entire bathroom. It took us an hour to conjure this set-up: run the spigot into the bucket, dump the bucket down the bowl, and -- voila! -- you've got yourself a potty! We were proud of our accomplishment until a Brit stuck his head in the door and asked, "Need a hand with the loo?"

Problem No. 2: The tuk-tuk driver. Little motorcycles with bench seats and overhangs zoom-zoom around the polluted town, and if you want to get anywhere fast (we're talking a half-hour minimum; quick by Thai time standards), you've got to take one. This was a challenge. Our typical conversation went like this: Americans: "How much to go to the Grand Palace?"

Tuk-tuk: "I'll take you to Big Standing Buddha."

Americans: "No, the Grand Palace, please."

Tuk-tuk: "I don't go to Grand Palace, I'll take you to Big Standing Buddha."

Eventually, Erica and I gave up on the tuk-tuks. We walked. Everywhere. Later, we found a Swede who hooked us up with a tuk-tuk. His conversation sounded like this:

Swede: "Wat Po, please."

Tuk-tuk: "That's 50 baht."

Swede: "The last guy said 30 baht."

Tuk-tuk: "No way. Have to eat."

Swede: "Thirty or I'll ask the next one."

Tuk-tuk: "Get in."

Why could he score a ride? And a cheap one at that? Maybe it's the Scandinavian touch; maybe he didn't scream "American."

Problem No. 3: Other stupid Americans. In Thailand, it's not the camera pouches or the Nikes that'll earn you the "stupid American" title; it's the four hammered guys screaming out of a cab "come with us to Pat Patong, honey." Because the only Americans we came across were headed to the sex district and prostitute bars, we began to assume the title might be deserved.

Problem No. 4: Where to go next? Most of the gadabout backpackers (a mix of Aussies, Brits, and Israelis) we met were using Bangkok as a starting point for their adventure. These trekkers were headed out on elephant treks up the Choa Phraya River or on Cambodian refugee tours along the border. Erica and I opted for something a bit more mundane, a bit more American -- the resort hotel tour of Phuket, pronounced Pooh-ket. Just think of Leonardo in "The Beach."

As long as we travel, we will never kick the "stupid American" reputation. It's warranted when we search out the closest Starbucks or McDonald's. The whole world looks like America, so why do tourists search out familiar places -- doesn't that defeat the purpose of traveling?

What it does is make it harder for fellow Americans to travel without being stigmatized. Sure, we're going to make the little mistakes -- but that's the fun in traveling.

The trick to getting around without being called out is skipping the Big Mac and finding yourself a gadabout backpacker.

The word for "shut up" in Japanese is "urusai." Try it out in your next e-mail to Rachel-san at rachel@email.unc.edu.