There’s this man I know who we often invite to dinner. He tells us all these stories of how he traveled and brags how much we shouldn’t try to go there. There’s an odd tone of pride in his voice when he talks about how “horrible traffic is in Indonesia.”
Maybe it’s his devout loyalty to the organized and structured America that makes him look at developing countries with pity; sympathizing with them only because they aren’t America.
I find myself rolling my eyes at his stories because he makes an attempt sound like an experienced man who takes on the tough bad world (that is not America), but he just ends up sounding like a pretentious human horribly failing at imitating the accents of people around the world.