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It's all my own fault really. When we
got off the plane at San Cristobal Island and I saw the South Africa
T-shirt waiting for luggage, I should have put my head down and
walked past. Did I? No. Some overwhelming force drove me to ask the
stupid, stupid question: "Hi, are you from South Africa?"
This will probably be wasted
on our English friends, but my fellow boerewors-eaters will appreciate it.
So, we get of the plane, and there he
is. Lloyd from Port Elizabeth. (The Friendly City on
the Eastern Cape coast, for you foreigners). So Lloyd is there in the classic Saffer-on-tour
uniform: T-shirt that has the flag and "South Africa" boldly
emblazoned across the front of it, a small pair of rugby shorts
pulled right up to the waist, a bum-bag/moon-bag hanging out in
front, hiking boots and khaki socks. What I meant to be a quick "hi,
we're both far from home, what are the chances of bumping into
another South African in the Galapagos? Ha ha, cheers", was somehow
interpreted as "hey, I'm also an ignorant, arrogant and racist moron, let's
spend the rest of our holiday together".
Fast forward to the evening after Tam
and I had met the most fascinating Swiss/Italian couple and on the
way to dinner with them, we bump into Bruce (good) and then Lloyd
(not good) who invites himself to dinner. Bruiser can spot a pain in
the backside from 500 meters so excused himself promptly. (Probably
had a few spare beers sitting around his hotel waiting to be put to
death). Anyway, the couple, Lori and Bruno speak, we established,
French, German, Italian, English and Spanish. While we try our own
Spanish with the locals to much laughter, and Lori fills in the gaps
and says things like "they want chicken and rice not a battery
and a fountain", Lloyd, with the finesse of a fart in church says to
the little boy who'd just brought him a beer in the bottle: "Hey
China, a glass" to which Bruno politely translated "un vaso por
favor." Lloyd's response? "We don't do Spanish in Africa".
I think my underlying dislike for
this oaf (unabated racism and chauvinism aside) was the theme of his
thinking that South Africa is the greatest country in the world and
you have to try the various foods, wines and activities the way
South Africans do them. But here he is in Ecuador eating steak every
night and explaining to the cook how to cook it. Totally unprepared
to adopt the attitude that other cultures may have ways of doing
things that are worthy of testing.
My fear swelled into full scale
terror when Lloyd explained that his kids (one of whom is called
'Kalahari' because he was conceived on the Trans-Kalahari highway
in Botswana so "it was either that or 'Toyota'") have to help out
when they come and stay with him because he doesn't "have a maid or
a slave or whatever you [expletive] you call it". This to a
couple of Europeans who've been travelling for the last seventeen
months and clearly see people as people. I thought he
was about to don a swastika and start goose-stepping around the
table. It's a horrible feeling, being ashamed of your countryman.
Some other cultured gems from the
man:
- It's my [expletive]
birthday tomorrow, you reckon these okes know how to set up a
[expletive] braai?
- The only think missing from
South America is [expletive] Karoo Lamb chops. Jeez
they're [expletive] good.
- There's no such thing as Post
Natal Depression. Women must just [expletive] deal with
it.
- The wogs in my daughter's class
make a noise...
He also proceeded to explain to Lori
that he was in the Special Police fighting Communists until Mandela
came to power, then he had nothing to do. I'm not sure what Lori
made of the statement as, being Italian, I think she might have
found it difficult to relate Eastern Europe of the 80s to some
people wanting their country back, but I didn't really want to spoil
the evening for everyone else, so I kept my misery to myself and
shut up.
Don't get me wrong: I love my country
and Lloyd is right in that it boxes above it's weight in the natural
beauty category, but I couldn't help think that many of the problems
it has will be solved when people like him are long gone.
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