Traveling abroad as an American

The most difficult part, traveling as an American across Russia, has not been the occasional hostile grunt when Jackfuckall Nobody learns of my citizenship. It has been the friendlier ones, the dozens of travelers from nearly a dozen different countries who have welcomed me into their conversations (some of them solo travelers as well) but have no curiosity whatsoever about America or life as an American. Those who have been to America, I think, are maybe a bit more likely to ask a few curious questions, but for the most part, everybody watches our movie stars and listens to our terrible pop music of today and more likely yesterday. They have their opinions, political and otherwise, and in their eyes they already know America. I could be from San Francisco or San Antonio, and it is all the same. It has of course not been that way with everybody, and in fact Russians have been more willing to be curious, far more so than the German or the Dutch or the Australians or the British or the French or the Swiss, et al.