Feeling conspicuous

While I was out on my brief and somewhat breathless walk yesterday, I had one of those experiences. Let’s be honest – no matter where I go in Africa, I stand out. Still, there are things one can do to not flaunt it, you know? Speak quietly (Americans are so loud); when you do have a conversation, don’t talk about the local food, customs or people as “them” (here, you’re the oddity, not the local population); realize that you’re going to overpay for things outside the western hotel, but engage in a little bargening if that’s the local custom (you’ll still overpay, don’t worry).

I had exchanged money and was carrying about 50 USD in Ethiopian Birr. Usually when I carry bills on travel they are in my front pocket, folded over. No billfold in the back pocket – why invite trouble? It sounds silly, but I usually arrange the bills so that when I fold them the smallest currency value is what shows. That way, when I pull the bills out of my pocket I don’t inadvertently flash around the fact that I’ve got a lot of cash by local standards. Everyone knows I’m a rich American, but why rub it in, you know?

Well, I stepped into this little shop, probably 20′ on a side (roughly the size of my living room at home) and picked up a 4-pack of bottled water. The place wasn’t full, but they were doing good business – mostly women, and lots of chatter going on. The first worker I saw said “good morning” and I replied “salem”. I held up the water and asked “how much?” She bowed her head, clearly embarrassed and mumbled “good morning” – no English, and I’ve no Amharic. I put my hand on my heart as I’ve seen others do here when ending an engagement, bowed my head a little, and said “thank you,” hoping that I wasn’t screwing up and causing further consternation. A gentleman behind the counter saw the interaction and said “24!”, which equates to roughly 2 USD. I set the water on the counter, reached into my pocket, and pulled out my Birr. Suddenly the store became silent. All eyes looked at me. I had screwed up and put my largest currency on top. I had to flip through a stack of 100 Birr notes, then 50s, in order to get down to the 20s. Then through the 20s, and the 10s, to get to the 5er that I needed. Now I was the one who was embarrassed. I handed the money to the cashier and began to walk out of the store, not waiting for my change. He stopped me and handed back the 1 Birr note that I was due.

That’s a lesson in how to be an ugly American. I had flashed flashed a stack of bills roughly equivalent to half an average person’s per capita annual income. Not only that, I flipped through the whole thing to pull out the bills I needed. On sight, everyone knew I was a rich American and I had just rubbed their noses in it. Today, I’m more aware than ever of how conspicuous we can be.