I'm a jerk.

I don’t know how to not sound like a jerk while writing this.

Although, I was, in fact, a jerk.

Last night I was at the gym, cycling and sweating my face off. A colleague came and was trying to get the elliptical trainer to work, but it wouldn’t. He went and asked the Help Desk to assist, as it was clear that the electrical plug-ins weren’t functioning properly.

The Help Desk Guy, who has helped me out many times, came over and started trying different outlets.

Before I go any further, I need to say, I like ADDICTED to knowing how many kilometers I’ve cycled. I know the machine probably isn’t that accurate. And that it really doesn’t matter as long as I work out, but I WANT TO KNOW THAT NUMBER.

Friendly Help Desk Guy started unplugging various machines, I thought it would be PRETTY OBVIOUS not to unplug mine, but of course, he did. And I FREAKED OUT.  And I yelled. He plugged me back in. I was livid. How dare he unplug my machine?! Didn’t he know that I check those stupid stats like they are lottery numbers?!?!

And guess what. He unplugged it again. I yelled again and questioned why he was using the plug in next to MY MACHINE and to leave it alone and use another machine!!!!

Yes, I had a day full of ups and downs (ending in an up!), but, there’s no reason I needed to have a hissy fit.

It made me think…that…I’m turning into one of those expats that I really don’t like. The kind that see “the help” as a different citizen class. The kind that treat “the help” differently – they speak down to them, are demanding, and often rude.

And then…I realized… I have become one of those expats.

When I go to a restaurant and something is wrong with the order, my patience is lower than it was 3 years ago.

When I go to a hotel and something goes wrong, my patience is lower than it was three years ago.

Not only my patience…but the way that I have a different way of talking. A less respectful way of talking.

What happened to the happy girl that said anything funny in Malagasy to everyone I saw??? Now - I don't always even say hello to the security guards. Like, even acknowledging their presence. The quick “What’s new? Nothing’s new.” exchange i used to have with the kitchen staff ended forever ago. And…when there’s a problem, I’m this over-assertive…..bitch.

Ok. Perhaps a bit harsh. But when I came here I was mortified as to how I was treated. Staff would bring me coffee. Staff would open car doors for me. It was nearly impossible to get them to stop calling me “Madame”.  I still can’t get everyone to not call me Madame and sometimes I just give in with the drivers because they feel weird if I carry my own groceries.

I worked hard to help them understand we are all people with the same human needs and everyone deserves the same respect.

Now I’m short or I’m snappy with the morning office cleaning-staff.

Now I ignore or randomly say “Bonjour” to the security staff.

In a restaurant, my tone is often condescending, because “I know its soooo impossible to get things right here”…

Now I don’t buy my driver a Coca Cola every time I go into town because it’s hot out and I know he’d like one (ok…sometimes I do…).

Now I complain about our home housekeeper and don’t bring her back anything when I go on rotation. A small bag of candy and an airplane travel kit would make her ridiculously happy.

I’ve started to act…like one of those expats…

I’m embarrassed.

Before I get TOO hard on myself, I have to remind myself, this ISN’T Canada and in certain situations, acting different is a necessity. Being friendly to most? Not a good idea. It’s a sad fact but it’s a recipe to get taken advantage of. (I hate that part).

However, there are a lot of things that I can do, that I don’t do anymore…that would kind of make me feel less like one of those vaza jerks I see all the time talking down to the nationals.

Also…didn’t it make me happier to have a quick conversation or a quick hello with the people that I passed each morning? I need get rid of my blinders and look around me a little more often.