Are Americans Really The Worst? Five Other Countries Whose Tourists Make Us Look Good

We’ve all heard it before. The “Ugly American”; The clueless dingdong who travels other countries doing the following: talking too loud; complaining about everything – especially cigarette smoke and the lack of a decaffeinated coffee; traveling with their own peanut butter to live on lest the local food poison them; wearing funny looking clothes; ignoring the personal space of anyone around them.

Now, in all honesty, some of these stereotypes are true. Take Daddy for example. My old man has a strict summer uniform of ecru Rockport Walkers, long white knee socks, tan pressed khaki short, belted at the waist, a short sleeve button down/golf shirt with a pen in the neck, sunglasses and a sweatband or fishing hat.

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Daddy also has an endearing habit of going to European countries and talking “local like” – for example in Italy, a typical sentence would be, “Excuse-ay me-o, where-o can i get-o some damned pizza?” Or randomly saying things like, “Mamma Mia!” “Mangia, mangia!”

But he means well. He doesn’t complain. Much. There was that time in Italy where, while watching a pigeon defecate down the face of a statue of Mary. “Look at that!” he said. “That damned pigeon just taking a crap all over Mary’s face! Now if these damned Eye-talians had honored my good old American gun permit, I could’ve brought my Walther PPK over here and shot that heretic and we’d be having what they call squab-o for dinner! But nope – over here law abiding citizens can’t own their own damned guns. So the pigeons can just dump anywhere.”

No, my friends, after traveling the world, I have decided we Americans get a bad rap. Especially as there are other countries that deserve so much more vitriol! Find out which ones after the jump:

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Deep Thoughts: How To Travel Anywhere And Not Get Killed or Maimed.

I love a bodyguard

Yes, I know how to work that.

I’ve been known to travel to  places that some people [ed note: 99 percent] think are dodgy. I went to Iraq in 2011, was at the Essakane Music Festival outside of Timbuktu in 2013 (in my defense, Bono was there too), and hung out with a few “former” cocaine dealers in Colombia.

At this point my family has given up. Daddy (a right-wing, born again Tea Partier), now just shrugs and says, “God Bless and Hallelujah – I’ll call the prayer group.” Mom (a left-wing liberal Jew) just says, “Ah shit. Fine. Whatever.”
Over the years, I have developed a system that works for me in almost every country. Oddly enough, I’ve found people should be even more vigilant in “normal” places, because your guard is down – you just expect everything to be super fine and fun and cool – whereas in say, Cairo or Kirkuk, you are vigilant.
So, I present a by-no-means-cohesive list of How To Stay Safe. Or Alternatively, Paula Froelich’s Paranoid Guide To Travel.