Frequently, I think of A Year in the Merde by Stephen Clarke. Though a different language, I'm developing a new set of observations and humorous anecdotes from spending a heap of time in another country.
I have reached the point in the immersion experience where people do not automatically know that I am (North) American after my first few words. I've recently had a waiter think I was from Brazil after I managed to maintain a conversation throughout dinner. I don't always know what others are thinking but after an extended interaction there is a visible undercurrent of confusion/suspicion until eventually I explain that "I'm not from around here". The next statement is always "ooohhhhhhh" and faces change. The interactions turn a little less stilted and the other parties lose their assumption that my IQ hasn't quite made the charts. Frequently I will catch someone surveying my clothing - top to bottom and then bottom to top (and last night, a woman did this cycle twice). While at times it's uncomfortable, it's nonetheless interesting, and at times amusing.
My first trip, I was worried about standing out, but over this stay I've come to realize that I will always do just that. The color of my skin, the lilt in my voice, my body shape, the things I say when I step in dog mierda (BA has this in common with Paris), and my combination of eccentric clothing from around the globe are different. It's my confidence that has changed.
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