EDITOR’S NOTE – Americans living overseas have gotten used to being a whipping post for much of the world’s anger. But a veteran AP foreign correspondent got an impromptu kiss on a bus, and he marvels at the new post-election mood. William J. Kole, AP’s Vienna bureau chief, has covered European affairs since 1995.

VIENNA, Austria – She was a stranger, and she kissed me. Just for being an American.

It happened on the bus on my way to work Wednesday morning, a few hours after compatriots clamoring for change swept Barack Obama to his historic victory. I was on the phone, and the 20-something Austrian woman seated in front of me overheard me speaking English.

Without a word, she turned, pecked me on the cheek and stepped off at the next stop.

Nothing was said, but the message was clear: Today, we are all Americans.

For longtime U.S. expatriates like me – someone far more accustomed to being targeted over unpopular policies, for having my very Americanness publicly assailed – it feels like an extraordinary turnabout.

Like a long journey over a very bumpy road has come to an end.

And it’s not just me.

An American colleague in Egypt says several people came up to her on the streets of Cairo and said: “America, hooray!” Others, including strangers, expressed congratulations with a smile and a hand over their hearts.

Another colleague, in Amman, says Jordanians stopped her on the street and that several women described weeping with joy.

When you’re an American abroad, you can quickly become a whipping post. Regardless of your political affiliation, if you happen to be living and working overseas at a time when the United States has antagonized much of the world, you get a lot of grief.

You can find yourself pressed to be some kind of apologist for Washington. And you can wind up feeling ashamed and alone.

I’ll never forget a ride in a taxi in Vienna when the world was waking up to the abuses wrought by U.S. troops at the detention center for suspected terrorists at Guantanamo Bay, Cuba.

My driver, a Muslim, was indignant. “You are American, yes?” he asked in that accusatory tone so familiar to many expats.

“Uh, no, Canadian,” I said.

And it wasn’t the first time I fudged where I was from. I speak three foreign languages, so I have a bit of flexibility when it comes to faking. At various times, I’ve been a German in Serbia, and a Dutchman in Austria.

I’m not proud of it. But when you’re far from home, and you’re feeling cornered, you develop what you come to believe are survival skills.