An ex-patriot is someone who chooses to leave their home country and live abroad. They are called expats for short. We have many expats here in Port Vila, a majority hailing from either France or Australia. Generally, I do not care for expats. Many are rude to the local Ni-Vanuatu and treat them like servants or second hand citizens.
Some expats have lived here in Port Vila for years and have never bothered to learn any Bislama, the national language of Vanuatu. They have their own cliques and social circles, never mixing with the local population surrounding them. They are far removed from typical life here in Vanuatu and may only interact with locals who serve as maids, cooks and security guards. I have heard expats refer to locals as “lazy” or “stupid” and have grown angry overhearing some with the audacity to actually utter racial slurs such as “monkeys” or “niggers”.
On cruise ship days in Aneityum, Australian tourists pile off the boat and drunkenly stumble around the island. On one memorable occasion, I was having lunch on a cruise ship day, a piece of laplap (ground manioc mixed with coconut milk) wrapped in a banana leaf, when a tourist approached me and asked what I was eating. After informing her, she said, “Well is looks like someone just took a shite in that leaf.” Not knowing exactly how to respond to that, I just stared at her until she waddled off and started searching for souvineers.
There are exceptions of course, some expats and tourists are just fine. But I say all of this just to relate to you the mindset I had been forming of Australians. Perhaps unrightfully, I was building up stereotypes in my mind. Gone was the fun-loving, crocodile wrestling, kangaroo-boxing, Foster’s drinking Aussie throwing shrimp on the barbie. This image was replaced by a racist, pretentious, drunkard with a preference for extremely short shorts and long rubber boots. Fair enough, the sample of Australians that I was polling was not have been representative of their country as a whole. Tourists of any nationality are disdained usually and the lax governance and tax shelters in Vanuatu have attracted a large number of criminals to Port Vila.
But you can imagine how I felt when my family informed me that we would be vacationing in Sydney, Australia. I would be plucked from tropical paradise and inserted into a city teeming with Australians, over four million of them! For the sake of reuniting with my family, I kept my negative thoughts to myself and bravely boarded a flight into enemy territory.
Further adding to my discomfort, I was transitioning from a third world country directly to a 5 star hotel in the bustling, hip, downtown district of the city. I arrived a day before my family’s flight from the USA, so my survival behind enemy lines would be entirely in my hands. A bellhop opened the taxi door for me and tried to take my battered luggage from me. I insisted upon carrying it, as I had not exchanged any currency yet with which to tip him. I was suddenly self-conscious of the stains and wrinkles in my attire, which had seemed more than adequate just several hours ago in Vanuatu. A graduation party was mulling in the lobby, looking spotless in brand new tuxedos and evening gowns.
I checked in at the front desk and tried to take the elevator to my room on the tenth floor. Little did I know, for security purposes, my room key had to be inserted on the elevator’s card slot in order to reach my desired location. Puzzled, I rode up and down the elevator, passing the tenth floor several times before an Aussie business woman took pity on me and showed me how to reach the 10th floor. Her act of kindness did not go unnoticed, perhaps these Australians were not so bad after all.
Throughout the following week, the Australians I met proved to be very genuine, friendly people. My family and I enjoyed our stay in Sydney. We did the basic touristy things: the Sydney Opera House, the Sydney Harbor Bridge Walk, the wildlife refuge, aquarium, a wine tour to Hunter Valley. A steady diet of fatty foods and delicious beer fattened me up a bit as well.
On our wine tour of Hunter Valley, an older Aussie man told me that he had been on a cruise to Vanuatu. “Lovely people there, aren’t they? They are so simple.”
I bit my toungue and agreed, knowing that he was intending to insult them.
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