The Best International Travel Advice You Will Ever Get
April 16th, 2009 by megan
Are you ready? Ok, here it is.
The best international travel advice that you will ever get: Laugh at yourself!
Yeah, that’s it. If you’ve ever traveled abroad, especially from the ‘West’ to the ‘East’ you already know; our cultures are very different, and as a foreigner you are bound to screw something up. And not just something, many things! When I traveled in Rajasthan with SIT, I had about 15 other Americans with me to laugh about our cultural faux pas and uncontrollable bodily functions. But, when you travel alone, that luxury is lost. So, on this trip to India, I was responsible for laughing myself out of my own embarrassment, and here’s what I learned:
Was it worth it?
1. If it looks like a toilet, it IS a toilet! This applies to all flat surfaces, any shallow holes and particularly all square-ish 3-walled areas. But, surprisingly it took me 2 incidents to learn this lesson. Without the first incident I would not have gotten the lovely picture above, but was it really worth flip-flopping through human feces to get closer to the edge? Probably not. And had I known what I was standing in before Wilfred explained, I would have found another way.
2. This is worth repeating: If it looks like a toilet, it is a toilet! And, yes, this does apply to 700 year old Mughal forts. And, please take a lesson from me, the smell doesn’t improve over 700 years.
Trying to fit in.
3. Tie your drawstrings tight and bring extra pins. If you, like me, wear little other than jeans and t-shirts, than local clothing such as the churidar and saris of India, can be difficult to manage. My tailored-to-fit churidar were beautiful, but not without their difficulties. The loose, cotton pajama pants have a drawstring waist, and before I realized the value of the double knot, I had to excuse myself a few times as my pants were quickly heading south. And, while bending to weed the garden with the elders, I caught my waistband just before it hit my ankles. I have never been more thankful for knee-length blouses.
Chili peppers!
4. If they say it’s spicy, it is spicy! Westerners are weak when it comes to spicy food, so when an Indian tells you something is spicy, believe them. I was warned before I tried the elders’ hot meal, but I went ahead and put a nice big, juicy handful of their hot green curry into my mouth. Within seconds, my mouth, throat and chest were on fire. I tried to tough it out as the tears rolled down my face, but despite my efforts Wilfred had to run inside to get my water bottle. The elders may have missed the near-mooning incident, but they definitely got a chuckle out of this. Apparently 70+ years of chili-eating dulls your sensitivity, and the elders like their food HOT.
5. Learn to flush the toilets ahead of time. I won’t go in to much detail (or provide a picture), but when your staying in your hosts’ small apartment and the water stops working, you’d better have a back-up plan. It can get ugly.
6. You will wreck the language. I was the laughing stock of the village with my poorly-accented bagunara? (how are you), wandanalu (thanks), and williwastanu (goodbye) , but they loved that I tried.
7. Don’t resent the help that’s given. When your pants are falling off, your bhutu (bindi) is crooked and you have an eggplant stuck in your scarf, you need help! So, when your host tells you, ‘that looks bad,’ it’s best to just agree, laugh it off and make it look better. The only way to learn a new language and culture is to observe, try it out and often, fail. Thankfully, you will often be rewarded not only with laughter, but also respect and gratitude for your efforts.
I love your blog entries. I especially could relate to “Tie your drawstrings and bring extra pins”! My churidar pants fell down while I was using the toilet in the nun’s convent prior to my triumphal entry as guest of honor for the pageant. I don’t which was worse, trying to explain to Father George what happened or explaining to the sisters. Someone finally found me a safety pin. This was during my January 2004 visit. By the way, mastering the “toilets” with pants is also a gymnastic challenge. My greatest challenge was when I was given a henna tattoo on my hands which needed to dry. After at least and hour I couldn’t wait any longer and tried to pull up my tunic, pull down my pants, balance over the hole, and not let my hands touch anything. I was not successful and had a slighty blurry henna treatment as a result.