Sticking Up For America

By CALVIN TRILLIN

I took a trip to the South Pacific. It was something like Bill Clinton's trip to Africa, except that not having anybody in my traveling party who had ever been subpoenaed, I was spared those nagging reminders of home that you get when you glance across the table after a relaxed dinner on some veranda and notice someone you can still picture emerging from the U.S. Court House.

On the other hand, Clinton was able to avoid public discussion of the latest White House scandal simply by appearing in sober settings with people like Nelson Mandela. Lacking protective schedulers, I was not able to do the same--which hardly seemed fair, since I'm the one who definitely hadn't done anything wrong.

Americans in foreign lands have always encountered the sort of foreigners who like to begin conversations by expressing their inability to understand something about America, as in "I've never understood why you Americans insist on running everything" or "I don't understand why so many Americans are racist, imperialistic thugs."

Even when such remarks reflect a criticism that I share, I've always tended to say something insulting about the other person's country in return. (This may be the sort of thing the career counselors had in mind when they said the diplomatic corps was not a realistic option for me.) If a Frenchman expresses his inability to understand why Americans eat so much frozen food, I can be counted on to steer the conversation around to the wartime behavior of Vichy France.

What troubled me as I left for this trip was the possibility that the recent bimbo eruptions have made it even more difficult for Americans abroad. Being rather old-fashioned about what is appropriate to discuss with someone I've just met--at least, judging by what's been in the papers, more old-fashioned than the President--I wasn't looking forward to remarks like "I've never understood why you Americans are so hung up on sex" or "I can't understand why you Americans continue to make such randy people President."

Soon after we arrived, I realized that my usual strategy for responding to such remarks was unavailable: the foreign travelers you meet in the South Pacific are often from countries like New Zealand, a place I'm not familiar with enough to know anything insulting about.

What saved the day was the discovery that news from America in the South Pacific is thin and well aged. The first time a New Zealander brought up "the scandal involving that young woman," I felt safe in saying, "If you're talking about Tonya Harding, I think she brought a lot of it on herself."

"Is Tonya the name?" he said, looking mildly puzzled.

"Certainly not Donna Rice," I said. "The President's not much of a boat person."

"And Patty Hearst?" he asked, rather wistfully. "I've always been keen on Patty Hearst."

"Not to worry," I said. "Patty Hearst has not even been called to testify before the grand jury."

He looked relieved. We turned to other topics.