Some Americans have been hesitant to enjoy a European vacation lately, and it's not just because of the weak dollar.

AP Photo/Courtesy of Andrew Kolker French television series "Les Guignols" pokes fun at America. Here a puppet of President Bush joins two Sylvester Stallones.

The war in Iraq has caused the popularity of the U.S. to plummet overseas in the last five years. We can testify firsthand to being on the receiving end of the occasional anti-American brickbat while in France, Poland, Britain and Ireland, where we were making a film for public television about what Europeans think about the U.S.

Although by and large most Europeans understand the distinction between the American government's policies and the American people themselves, in some quarters there's an unfortunate tendency to treat all traveling Yanks as roving ambassadors for the Bush administration.

On the other hand, few Americans truly understand how large the U.S. looms -- politically, economically, and culturally -- in the daily lives of Europeans. When we sneeze, they're the ones who catch cold.

So we've prepared this handy guide to avoiding embarrassment on your next European jaunt.

The following scenarios are based on real-life encounters we had over the course of making our documentary. Pack them along with your passport and, who knows? You may even learn something new about your own country.

Problem No. 1: You're at a picture-perfect Paris bistro, not another tourist in sight, and the patronne comes over to chat. When she finds out you're from the States, she launches into a passionate rant against capital punishment, which she, like most Europeans, considers barbaric, and asks you whether a President Hillary Clinton would outlaw the death penalty.

Our Solution: Explain that in our federal system, the 50 states make the rules about things like executions, not the president. Then turn the tables. Ask her how the integration of the European Union is going, now that places like Poland and Cyprus are members and Turkey's knocking at the gates. For the rest of the evening you won't hear another word about the U.S, but you'll learn plenty about the faceless bureaucrats in Brussels and their plot to undermine French influence. If that doesn't work, tell her you really like her croque-monsieurs.

Problem No. 2: You're at an upscale dinner party in London with members of the chattering classes. When they find out you're an American, they challenge you to defend some American political crime they learned about on the BBC or in The Guardian that you have never heard of.

Our Solution: This can be tricky, because unless you're a Senate staffer in charge of making up your boss's news digest every morning, chances are your European friends know a lot more about this particular peccadillo than you do. DON'T say "I haven't heard anything about that." That will only open the door for a tirade about the blinkered American media and their gullible public. Instead, play for time. Over-explain well-known American phenomena ("In the U.S, the president can only serve two terms") while befuddling them with truly local knowledge ("Doyle has really been making progress at the State House since the turnpike scandal").

Problem No. 3: You're enjoying beer and kielbasa in Warsaw's beautiful Old Town. Your attractive young Polish waiter, conversing in near-perfect colloquial English, attempts to ascertain whether you're on speaking terms with his cousin in Chicago, his uncle in Brooklyn, or his best friend in Phoenix. Finding you are not, he begins denouncing America's stringent visa requirements that keep thousands of job-seeking Poles from visiting the U.S. "We fight with you in Iraq, we spend all our defense budget to buy your fighter planes instead of European ones, and you treat us badly. We are like a woman who you beat!"

Our Solution: Explain that this might not be the best time to push for liberalizing American immigration rules and suggest that the weather is lovely in France this time of year -- no visa required. Try not to rub it in by pointing out that most Americans are only dimly aware that Poland sent troops to Iraq or that all those defense budget zlotys barely amount to a rounding error over at the Pentagon.

Problem No. 4: You've just arrived in Dublin and you drop into a friendly looking pub to get a nice, cold Guinness. The barman hears your accent and informs you that the proper way to drink the local brew is at room temperature and, by the way, why is it that America has its head in the sand when it comes to global warming?

Our Solution: Graciously inform the publican that we on the "other side of the pond' are made of "stout(er)" stuff. Wait for the pun to sink in. If there is no reaction, duck.

Problem No. 5: You're riding a long-distance train through the Alps and find yourself sharing a compartment with a cranky Spaniard, a know-it-all German, a supercilious Italian, and a truculent Finn. They force you to account for Guantanamo, Abu Ghraib, the refusal to sign Kyoto, rising obesity rates, far-from-universal health care, and the legacy of Jerry Falwell.

Our Solution: Invite them all to stay with you at your home in Edmonton during the World Curling Championship.

Louis Alvarez, Andrew Kolker and Peter Odabashian are the producers of "The Anti-Americans (a hate/love relationship)," airing on PBS on Monday, August 27 (check local listings).

More on "The Anti-Americans": http://www.pbs.org/weta/crossroads/about/show_anti-americans.html