Healthy Patriotism

Because I have been logging on in Central America every week, Facebook, in its infinite wisdom to understand (sell to) the profile-holder, has started catering new advertisements to me: Ex-Pat Women’s Support groups and anti-American sites for Americans. I may have gotten married and run off to Mexico, but I am very much an American. I still love the good old USA.

And while I feel often detached and isolated from America, and the rest of the world, because I mostly exist in the middle of the ocean, I also feel like I have a greater understanding of it than ever before. The US news, that I desperately try to grab whenever our TV has a signal for CNN, is always the same disappointing non-information: Tiger Woods had sex with another porn star, the Tea Party made another disgusting remark, and Healthcare continues to be an unresolved mess. But despite these blemishes in our history, I am so happy to be American.

This is the first job where I have been a minority as an American. I have met crewmembers that have left their months-old babies to work on this ship to earn money to send home to their families. Last month my cabin steward had to fly back to the Philippines to bury two of his family members in the same week. His 28-year-old daughter passed away from a freak heart attack, and his sister suffered and died from anorexia. She had moved to the US to get treatment, but it was too late. A couple of weeks ago, a housekeeper was feeling ill. The ship’s doctor sent her to a hospital in Cozumel and she passed away a day later. Apparently she had been born with a treatable but undiagnosed blood disorder. She was 34-years-old and had 4 weeks left on her contract, after which she was to return home and enjoy living in her new house with her 9-year-old daughter. I know tragedy happens everywhere, but when it is avoidable, it’s infuriating.

I am grateful for my health, I am thankful for the fairness in my country, and I am so glad for parents that could work just miles away. I am reminded of how unusual those gifts are around the globe. So, chin up America. We ain’t perfect, but we sure is lucky.