Un american despre Romania. Si despre anti-americanism
In timp ce pregateam, pentru un numarul din decembrie 08 al Esquire, un articol despre anti-americanism, am apelat la un vechi prieten, jurnalistul american Toby Smith. Omul petrecuse destul timp in Romania ca sa-si faca o impresie avizata, asa ca l-am rugat sa-mi scrie cum i s-au parut romanii fata de americani. Scrupulos si constiincios, ca de obicei, Toby mi-a trimis un adevarat articol, din care aveam sa folosesc prea putin pentru articolul meu din Esquire. Asa ca l-am intrebat daca il pot publica pe blog, iar el si-a dat acordul. Am asteptat sa treaca decembrie, iar acum iata articolul, asa cum mi l-a trimis Toby Smith. (Am mai postat lucruri in limba engleza pe blog, iar unii cititori mi-au scris ca n-ar strica sa dau si o traducere in romana — asa ca promit sa si traduc articolul daca va fi cerere pentru asa ceva; dar sper sa nu fie 
).
Doua cuvinte despre Toby Smith: E absolvent al University of Missouri si are un master de la New York University. Sta in Albuquerque, New Mexico si scrie la Albuquerque Journal, ziar cu un Pulitzer la activ. A lucrat ca jurnalist, intre altele, la Paris, Tokyo, Seul, dar si in Georgia si Romania. A publicat articole in multe ziare, intre care Wall Street Journal, New York Times, Chicago Tribune si Financial Times. A predat jurnalism la Bucuresti, vreme de doi ani, trimis printr-un program Fulbright. L-am avut odata invitat la un curs si tin minte ca le-a spus studentilor ca in jurnalism sunt importante trei lucruri: acuratetea, acuratetea si acuratetea. A scris noua carti.
Titlul de mai jos imi apartine, restul e de la Toby Smith:
How an American sees anti-Americanism
I have lived in two foreign countries—on opposite sides of the world—for lengthy periods of time. Romania for two years, South Korea for three. During those stays, I experienced two different, but in some ways similar, opinions of my homeland, the United States.
When I arrived in Romania in the late 1990s, to lecture on a Fulbright grant, I knew, like most Americans, only of Romania’s stereotypes: The Dracula/vampire connection, the orphans, the crazy dictator. Oh, and as a sports fan, I knew of Nadia Comaneci and Ilie Nastase.
That’s all I knew.
So, it came as a great surprise, as my time there passed, how insulated I had been back home. In other words, I little I really knew.
I tried to learn the language, which is a key to understanding much of any culture. And I tried to write about Romania, for publications in the U.S. and, for Cotidianul, the Romanian newspaper that had started an English section. At Cotidianul, I wrote a column called “Cultura Bizaro.� Each week I would try to get a laugh by poking fun at things Romanian. Like waiting in line at the post office or using a public bathroom. Romanians weren’t amused and some told me so. A few even threatened the woman who had hired me to work for Cotidianul.
In sum, once a week I naively provided Romanians with a good reason to feel anti-American.
These feelings, I believe, came from Romanians’ insecurity. And that origin made sense. Communism had been gone for only seven or eight years when I arrived. Some said Commnism still existed there. A need to spy on others surely remained. A trusting nature seem limited, I saw. What had replaced Communism was treachery and corruption. So, shouldering all these burdens, Romanians walked around with a couple of logs on their shoulders. And here came a silly-ass American to remind them how oddly their country operated.
Not to say Romanians hated Americans. They didn’t and don’t, as best I can tell. When Bill Clinton showed up in Romania the summer before I did, people still talked about him breathlessly. Clinton had come to see us! Nobody comes to see us!
And when American military planes used Romanian bases during the Bosnia conflict, well, Romanians were proud and mentioned this to me regularly. A few Romanians explained to me how American planes bombed Nazi oil refineries in Ploesti during World War II, and how much that meant to the country.
Meanwhile, anti-American feelings percolated below the surface. A lot of those feelings, I detected, had to do with this: We don’t measure up to you. My response was, How can you? America has close to 300 million people. Romania has 20 million. Romania endured a screwball regime for years. America did not, unless you count the Richard Nixon years, which I sometimes do.
The insecurity involved more than numbers, though. Romanians didn’t like to be reminded of their faults and I suspect still don’t. Americans don’t have that problem. We know we have faults and who cares, many of us think. Yes, we’re a Superpower, or we once were, and so we’ll do OK in the end.
Whenever I mentioned, say, an American athlete or an American film to a Romanian, the response would often be about a Romanian athlete who had succeeded or a Romanian movie that had done well. Life seemed a contest to many Romanians. If I happened to remark about the success of a Romanian, someone they knew perhaps, a kind of jealousy took over. “His mother is from Turkey,� might be a reaction. Or, “She’s got some Gypsy blood, you know.� Huh? What the hell does that matter? I wondered. Many conversations became penis-measuring competitions that had to do with someone’s failure to be 100 percent Romanian. This seemed ridiculous to me, for few people in the states are 100 percent anything.
When I left Romania I stayed in touch with Romanians. I remember getting a letter from one friend about the 2000 Olympics in Sydney. Wasn’t distance runner Gabi Szabo great, a woman friend wrote me, as if she needed my approval. Of course, my friend neglected to mention the Romanian women’s gymnastics team’s unfortunate disqualification at that Olympics. By then I had learned my lesson: I didn’t mention it to her either. I did reply that Szabo had done well, and then the response was, well, you know, of course, that she has Hungarian blood. No, I didn’t know or care. Good grief!
When entry into NATO and the European Union came along, further pride showed through in e-mails from Romania. I saluted their achievements, but it was almost as if they had requested my blessings.
If a Romanian had gone to the States, which was very hard to do during my time there, Romanians seemed quick to mention how that person had help with his/her visa or how he/or she had not done well in the States or that the whole deal was arranged because of a bribe.
Long after I left Romania, governmental corruption continued there and some Romanians still mentioned that cancer with sadness and frustration—as if I had never seen any corruption in my country! My God, going into politics in the United States gives to many, it sometimes seems, a license to steal as much as you can, lie about everything, cheat on a spouse, chase whores or, in some cases, children.
So where is this anti-Americanism rooted? Part of it in history, I’m sure, but a good part in pure jealousy. Hell, if I were a Romanian and had a memory of what it was like under Ceausescu, I’d be jealous of just about any place on Earth, save for North Korea.
So, that brings me to the Korean peninsula. South Korea had a long and fairly happy relationship with America. That bond started after the Korean War. Older Koreans have never forgotten how U.S. soldiers arrived to liberate a country torn in half. Younger Koreans, whom I got to know at my newspaper in Seoul and at two universities where I lectured, have no memory of that period. But they all loved American culture. They worshipped American movies, TV and music. They underwent facial operations to look more American and they came to the U.S. in droves to live and go to school and to even settle permanently.
Sometimes I think that there are more South Koreans living in large American cities than then there are non-Koreans.
For more than 50 years, the American military has had bases in South Korea, placed there in case the North decides to attack the South, which the North has threatened to do numerous occasions since the war. In time, South Koreans, particularly the younger generations, have grown weary of those bases, of the large presence of American servicemen in the country. In fact, at one point during my time in Korea there were more American military personnel in South Korea than anywhere else in the world, save for the United States. Younger Koreans didn’t like this fact and frequently protested it in public. But the Americans stayed, at least for the time being. Older Koreans, with long memories, were OK with that.
Things started to change during one summer when I happened to be there. An American tank, out on maneuvers and traveling along on a public road, accidentally struck and killed two young Korean girls who were walking on the side of that road, too close to the road, really. The country went berserk. And I got to see it close up.
Protests mounted and violence occurred. When a U.S. military court found the two men innocent. The protests turned ugly. Anyone who looked American was stopped on the street and confronted by bands of disgruntled Koreans. When that happened to me once, I said that I was Swedish and an angry group let me go. A few times I was accosted in subway stations by young Koreans who just assumed I was American. I was never injured, but I was left shaken. I could speak enough Korean to talk my way out.
Korea, like Romania, is immensely nationalistic. If I happened to speak well of a Korean personality, a Korean often noted that the person had Chinese or Japanese blood. What difference does that make? I asked, which brought a slight smile and a shrug. Plenty of difference, more than likely.
I saw rampant nationalism in both countries because I lived in each place during World Cup years. I remember vividly when Romania beat England 2-1 in a soccer match in 1998. A Bucharest city square suddenly was flooded with thousands of celebrants. The happiness of that group was so profound and contagious I felt instantlydrawn to it. In fact, I was welcomed. I witnessed a similar event in Seoul during the 2002 World Cup. When South Korea defeated Spain to become the first Asian team to reach the World Cup semifinals, I thought the city might explode.
Like Bucharest, the population in Seoul rejoiced, but not violently. I remember thinking as I watched South Koreans driving around in their vehicles, honking their horns and yelling from car windows after their victory how polite they really were. In America, sports fans, in their crazed ecstasy, often throw things out of their cars. Americans also have a history of showing their gladness for an important victory by looting stores and burning down buildings. Nothing like happened in Korea, or in Romania, for that matter. In both countries, the natives were restless, but they behaved. No litter, no fires, no guns going off. Such behavior is very un-American.
It’s curious how a World Cup performance can unite just about any country except the United States. Soccer has never really taken off in the U.S. and our World Cup showings have, over the years, run from near-mediocre to abysmal. Was I never jealous of South Korea’s or Romania’s great soccer success. On the contrary. Did they try to rub those big matches in my face? Not really. In both places I sensed a bit of sympathy for America’s struggle with soccer, which was oddly comforting. Soccer doesn’t mean as much to most Americans as other sports. Thus, we have little envy or jealousy in light of the good fortune of other countries. But even if America had performed well in soccer, I can’t imagine holding that achievement over another country. Although I might be wrong about that. We clearly do have an arrogance about professional football and baseball.
Korea’s strong economy, which took off after years of a military rule, even though the country professed to be a democracy, has made life there better. Not so for Romania’s economy, which has long struggled. I think that even Koreans who have money, and there are many with a lot of money, admire Americans, especially when those Americans have adopted some facet of Korea. But when an American reminds a Korean of his shortcomings, as I did there and in Romania, thin skins were revealed. I can joke about America and I don’t mind a foreign visitor joking about us. In f act, I love to get a foreigner’s take on the excesses of American life. Our skins are nowhere near as thin as elsewhere. But elsewhere, there are good explanations for this sensitivity. And in that sensitivity now and then comes a spark of anti-Americanism. What’s wrong with that? Absolutely nothing. Hell, if we were all alike on this rock called Earth, what fun would that be?
–Toby Smith
Related posts:
- American Breakfast
- Presa straina despre Romania
- Despre Asociatia Jurnalistilor din Romania, de la un insider
- Impresii despre Romania libera
- A inmatriculat Romania in SUA
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Baiatul asta bate campii!
Americanii sunt obsedati de ideea ca Planeta e geloasa pe ei
)
Adevarul este ca acum nimanui nu-i mai pasa de US in Eastern Europe. Este prea departe.
@ c c: fraieri americanii astia, nu?
Pe lumea asta ai de a face cu majoritatea care nu gandeste pentru ea, nu se informeaza ci gandirea lor de gloata face ca sa devina incompetenti. Ceea ce ramane este daca media ar fi abstracta, daca oamenii ar gandii pentru ei fara emularea altora, atunci, poate atunci am realiza ca pot sa argumentezi orice, dar la urma ramane acel gust fie dulce fie amar care nu poti sa-l negi. Ce este de admirat este ca fiecare are o pozitie pe care sta, dar realitatea poate fi ascunsa de ei intentionat sau ignorant. Daca te opresti numai cat sa poti privii cu adevarat vei avea sa vezi fiecate punct al acestui mari si extraordinar tablou numit realitate. Asa ca fa-ti putin timp, si nu mai incerca sa mergi cu viteza luminii si in felul acesta nu vei ramanea in intuneric.
Well, you know, it’s hard to say Romanians don’t like Americans. I think it is exactly the opposite: they tend to idealize the Americans. I live in US now, and I can see that all my friends who are still in Romania believe you’re all Superman’s relatives.
The fact that you’re are largely ignorant not only Romania, but about almost the entire world might be somehow justified: your country is almost a continent. I don’t blame you for that…
The only think I can’t agree is that you, Americans, accept a foreigner to criticize your wonderful system, habits and flaws. Like I said, I live in US, and I have the same “reporter eyes” as you. Trust me, people are always getting upset when I mock their appetite for unhealthy fast food and TV dinner trays and crazy shopping, the way they accept without protesting all the stupid rules and regulations, or the patriotic display with American flags, pictures of George Washington and poems about fallen heroes somebody posted in my workplace bathroom to celebrate Memorial Day.
Eu personal n-am avut niciodata senzatia vreunui “atiamericanism” la romani. Nici din descrierea lui Toby nu simt ca se desprinde, in mod clar, asa ceva. Cat despre comentariile nationaliste nascute “din frustrare” despre cutare sau cutare ca nu e 100% roman, nu le-am considerat niciodata venite dintr-o invidie neaosa, cel putin nu la majoritatea “comentatorilor”. Am pus-o mai degraba pe seama micii doze de balcanism pe care o posedam fara doar si poate, mancarimea de a “barfi” si a gasi nod in papura. In mod clar “pielea subtire” exista, sensibilitatea nationalistica e perceputa corect de catre jurnalist, dar – cel putin la majoritatea celor pe care i-am observat eu – motivatiile nu sunt chiar asa de profunde iar sentimentele nu duc la adversitate (of course, nu vorbim de “zonele fierbinti” ca Harghita sau Covasna). Am observat in schimb un antiamericanism cultural, daca-i pot spune asa, la multi dintre romanii de aici din SUA. Comentarii de genul “americanii sunt inculti”, “ce simt al umorului mai au si astia”, “ce sa spun, ca-s ei buricu’ pamantului”, “habar n-au sa se imbrace” etc… O fi si asta rodul balcanismului, da’ la multi am depistat o convingere mult mai solida decat la cei pe care i-am auzit zicand chestii de genul “ala are sange de ungur”, “ma-sa lu’ alalantu’ e tiganga” etc. Ma insel?
honestly speaking, i normally have nothing against ordinary americans; what bothers me is their self absorbtion, ignorance, overconfidence, illussions of grandeur and that f***ing “god bless america” stereotype, as if the rest of us are “lesser” and dont deserve the same apraisal(i dont even believe in a god).
day by day and encounter after encounter i came to realise that i am trully anti-american…and by that i mean their entire self-painted image…the world self-appointed cop who bombs left and right without discrimination,the lone superpower gone mad(under criminals like Bush),the symbol of democracy(even though in democracy index’s they arent even in top 10),the symbol of freedom(even though the scandinavian states and those like switzerland and netherlands far exceed them in that dept).
i was thought that when you lead you have to do it by example…how does the US lead?! by which example?!in what way do we look up to them?(apart from war)…we all know that they dont do much leading today(rather bullying).
something has to happen…a multi-pollar world needs to happen…China,Russia,EU all have to counterbalance their hegemony.
power corrupts and absolute power corrupts absolutely.
by what’s stated above it’s clear that a hyperpower like the US is corrupt;corporation manipulation in all aspects of life IS corruption.
many times i find myself looking at US media channels and i’m amazed at how twisted,fabricated,untruthful,hyperbolised,extraordinarised it is…the average Joe has no chance,in the 21st century he gets his information from the “disinformation office” of the media moguls payed by those with interests.
it disgusts me.
the land of the free home of the brave…no more.
a true irony.
i want to believe in a America(in the future) as one country of the many contributing to a greater good…that of humanity…until then, they serve their own agenda(usually having to do with oil,armament or anything that ensures their hegemony).
a good day to all.