There are many ways to define “superpower.”  As a nation, the United States boast a number of reasons why it’s the last (or soon to be passing) superpower in the world.  Economically, however arguable, our economy  and entrepreneurship influence every country in the free market.  Our nation was founded on religious freedom and our racial and ethnic diverse populations make us an interesting face to study.

Of course there are always flip sides to all of those reasons why the US is a superpower.  We absorb nearly 25% of the world’s resources even though we make up less than 5% of the world’s population. We have had blood on our hands as the United States backed the military of El Salvador during their civil war out of fear of the spread of communism when, in fact, nuns, priests, and bishops were being murdered by the trained military while the US turned a blind eye.

Yes, the United States is a superpower.  Indeed.  And it’s more evident on the tongues of everyday citizens.  You need not a textbook to to look at our history to understand how the US-centric thinking has tainted the minds of even common “not political” identified people.

US-centrism dominates the discourse and lifestyle of so many people, it’s outrageous that more people just don’t have tattoos on the foreheads, “Everyone should love the USA!”  More and more people, I notice, in everyday conversation normalize the middle class/US lifestyle as the way of life for all.  As if comfort is defined with big homes, intelligence is measured with degrees, and freedom is dictated by the size of one’s salary.

Most recently I was engaged in a conversation with three people I had never met before.  The issue of traveling outside the United States came up and I immediately took interest.  Having traveled to numerous parts of the world, I was eager to hear about other travelers had to say about their adventures.  But instead of sharing rich stories, they started complaining.

“Have you seen the movie “Slumdog Millionaire?”  It’s just like that,” one woman told me.

India, apparently, was on the chopping block.

It became a litany of complaints.  The heat!  The traffic!  The excessive security checks at the airport!  The beggers!  The heat!  How crowded it was!

I opened my mouth to speak about my experiences in the Philippines and in Latin America and how those things were common in economically underprivileged parts of the world.  And, to be comical, couldn’t we just toughen up a little bit as US americans?  We’re so cushioned that we even demand our own personal space, never giving a second thought that we have all the space in the world to clear out, take a walk, be alone, get lost if we want.  I thought and meditated extensively about the privilege of space and time while in the Philippines and how I had *snapped* when I couldn’t get a foot of breathing air on the street.

Privilege.

I opened my mouth to also share my deep yearning to go to India to see this poverty first hand.  I’ve felt a strange calling for nearly ten years to see India, to study its spiritual ethos and cultural roots. Extreme conditions may disturb me physically (anyone remember when I passed out at the base of a garbage dump in the Philippines?), but it shoots adrenaline into my soul to see how the majority of the world lives.

To believe that not only the way we, US citizens, live is the best, but however other people live is something we should avoid or not even tolerate while we are in that country, is US-centrism at its best.

I opened my mouth to say these things and suggest to perhaps talk about the things they did find pleasing in India, but they never let me get a word in.  Strange feelings coursed through me.

I felt embarrassed.

I felt embarrassed because they were so assuming that I would share or already did share their opinion.  I felt embarrassed that they spoke so brashly about a country they clearly knew so little about and still turned their nose up.  I felt embarrassed that these women experienced no filters in their machine gun fire at the beautiful country of India.

Then I felt anger.

US american travelers don’t just love comfort, we expect it.  It doesn’t matter where we travel to, we expect the condition of comfort when we arrive.  Air conditioning and heaters, ice in our drinks and clean silverware.  Cushioned seats and constant breeze.  Delectable restaurants and even more delectable prices.  We want organized traffic signs and English speaking taxi drivers.  So many expect this, even in other countries.  And when those countries don’t deliver, they get our scorn and bad reviews.

Nowhere in our US-centric mentality do we consider the possibility that our comfort zones are really brain washing cells that leave us little to no room for compromise or consideration that we could very possibly be impacting the world that contributes to beggers in the street, to limited air conditioners because our country zaps so much of the world’s energy.  Our linear thinking process travels very clear lines of cause and effect – except when it comes to globalization and social responsibility.  Even as mundane and simple as curtailing our harsh opinions in everyday conversation, we blast other countries for — what?  Poverty?  Their proximity to the sun’s rays?  Traffic laws?  CLEARLY these things are in hands of the beggers and children in the streets that tourists find so pesky.  But we pack them all together with the label ANNOYING and UNACCEPTABLE and tell our friends and family: Don’t go to India!

That is what is wrong with US-centric thinking.  It salts the US lifestyle to the point that everyone else is bland and jealous of us.  It promotes economically underdeveloped countries to set up culturally unthinkable resorts for first world travelers so we don’t have to deal with the harsher reality of its people.  When in Nicaragua, a friend shared the reason why so many rotaries are built near the airport, “When there are no traffic lights, there is no time for beggers to approach the cars.  The government tries to hide its own people.”

There is an illusion that US americans live in.  We think consumerism, immediacy, comfort, and convenience.  That’s how we live.  And that scariest part is not only do we often choose to stay in this protective bubble, many who reside outside the US believe this is the best reality there is, and so they build more mirages for us, for the continued health of our delusional state of living.