Tuesday, May 16, 2006

The Thing That Wouldn't Leave

I remember a Saturday Night Live skit from the original series. John Belushi shows up at someone's house, invites himself in and just takes over the place, ignoring all efforts to show him the door. He sat on the middle of the couch, ate sloppy food, asked for more beer, played the telivision too loud, etc. Disregarding his hosts protestations, he overstayed his welcome. He greedily continued to take advantage of his hosts hertofore generous offerings. Seemigly, without end.
Pretty damned funny, right?
Now I have lived and worked a great deal of my life on foreign soil. I am, in fact, in the middle of doing so yet again. I know I shall have certain limitations on my sovereign rights because they differ every time the flag changes. So I have played by the rules in the past and shall do so again.
It has never been an issue really. I appear to have taken a lesson from my childhood, in that, I would go to a friend's house and the rules, language and so forth would be different from my own home. The reason being is that a good half of my friends were immigrants or 1st generation Americans. It was eye-opening.
The lesson in game parlance: the house deals.
Anyway, I learned a vital lesson then. Whenever I go to a foreign land, I am obviously a big, white, English speaking American, but I respect the house that I am in. I find out as much as I can beforehand and try to apply whatever is appropriate, when appropriate.
I am always (and will always remain) the outsider. No problem. I take it as an honorific. I am the guest. As such, I give respect to the house (country) by observing the rules that apply (often only to foreigners). It is the price of admission.
By learning what I am allowed and what I am not, I am perceived as paying respect to them and their hospitality (singular, local or national). I must admit that I, at times, have been given special dispensations due to being the "gora," "farang," "gui lao" or "gringo." However, once cautioned, I was expected to comply as best as I could. And so I did.
In this, I learn something new every single day. I learn about myself, what it means to be an American and about the place and people that host me. In this, I become better. In this, perhaps, they understand Americans a little better. In this is the seed for greater understanding.
Now comes the reality check. These migrant bastards (so many of them here illegally) that protested May 1st, waving foreign flags on my soil need to go. They do not respect my house. That house is an American house with American rules and they showed up uninvited. Then they take advantage of American generosity.
Those here legally are welcome at my table.
Those folks that claim ancestral rights (LMFAO!) better have their family tree pretty well laid out because many of them are claiming continental sovereignity. There was no monolithic nation here prior to the Europeans arriving. Their ancestral rights might be more applicable to present-day Honduras, Peru, or Chiapas (that is, if they are 100% native). It can also be claimed that the decendants of the American Southwest pretty much still live in the American Southwest.
Some of these folks may indeed have the proper lineage, but why then were so many carrying signs written in the language of the barbarian, genocidal invaders (clue: not English)? Hmmm. Should they all go back to Costa del Sol? Please. These claims of "Our Land Was Stolen" need to change to what this is really about - "You got yours. I want mine (and yours)."
When you invite someone into your house, you expect certain things. First, you expect only those invited to show up. You expect them to accept only what you offer. You expect them to be courteous. You expect them to do nothing to upset you - you know - have appropriate manners. You expect them to offer help in cleaning up (you'll decline but appreciate the offer nontheless). Then you expect them to leave (without the silverware).
Of course, you continue to invite people into your home. You continue to be a gracious host.
Some bring beer, wine or dip. Others bring flowers. What you do not expect is an invasion of parasites proclaiming squatter's rights. Make no mistake about it. This is squatter's rights.
A bunch of people arrived in America's living room May 1st, took a steaming dump, laughed and said "You can't do a damned thing about it?"
More to follow later, I have to go or I'll gnaw off my own arm.

No comments: