These mistakes travel bloggers make talk about mistakes made around language barriers and cultural misunderstandings. This is a four-part series in collaboration with fellow travel bloggers. Follow the links at the end to read about lodging disasters, medical misadventures, attention errors, and my biggest travel mistakes.
Arrested in Tibet (Almost)
A story from: The Nomadic Vegan
These travel mistakes and miscommunications occured in 2009, when my husband Nick and I took a two-week trip to a little-known province in Western China called Gansu. We were excited to visit the Labrang Monastery — a holy place for Tibetan Buddhists that had received a fabulous write-up in our guidebook.
Flying to the provincial capital was easy, but getting onward transport from there proved to be difficult. We spoke only a few words of Chinese, and we had no idea why the bus drivers wouldn’t take us to where we were trying to go.
Eventually, one driver did allow us on his bus, which was heading to a local transport hub where we thought we could get onward transport to the monastery. But as the bus approached its destination, the driver made us get off on the outskirts of town, well before the bus station.
Confused, we had no choice but to start walking in the direction that the bus had sped off, hoping we would find the bus station and, eventually, an onward bus to the Labrang Monastery.
We’d only been walking for a few minutes when two police cars skidded up to the curb, and half a dozen police officers jumped out and surrounded us. The badges on their sleeves read “S.W.A.T.” They asked for our postcards, but we were pretty sure they meant our passports. We were also pretty sure we were in big trouble.
They took us to the head of the prefecture, who spoke English well enough to explain what the heck was going on. Unbeknownst to us, in response to protests held by ethnic Tibetans in the area the previous year, the government of China had temporarily declared that part of Gansu closed to tourists. We were in a forbidden zone, and the police wanted us out of there quick smart.
Fortunately, the head of the prefecture, who was an ethnic Tibetan himself, was very friendly. He even bought us lunch! Then he drove us back across the prefecture border and put us on a bus heading back where we’d just come from. We never made it to the Labrang Monastery, but at that point, we were just happy not to be in a Chinese prison!
I never would have guessed that we would be taken in by the SWAT team on our simple trip to Tibet…
“Qing Wen”
A story from: Michael Alexis
These funny travel mistakes and miscommunications happened when I first started learning Mandarin. I used the stilted, overly polite phrases of someone new to a language and with formal training. This approach was great for earning my final uni credits, but caused a unique problem when it came to actually visiting China. In Mandarin, you say “qing wen” as an equivalent to, “may I ask”¦”, so for example: “May I ask, where is the restroom?”, or ”˜May I ask, is this the train to Chengdu?” Besides this making you sound like a total weirdo, “qing wen” with different intonation means “please kiss”; so sometimes that’s what I was saying to my teacher, to the server at the restaurant, and to the guy on the train”¦
Imagine walking up to order a coffee and accidentally saying “Please kiss for a large latte.”
Spa or Brothel?
A story from: Travels with Talek
These funny, common travel mistakes happened to me that time in Beijing when I mistook a brothel for a legitimate massage spa. I saw what looked like a massage place. The place didn’t look exactly like a typical spa. However, having traveled all my life I have frequently found myself in unfamiliar situations that at first might have felt uncomfortable only to dive in and discover a delightful new food, experience or location. So, in I went.
The inside had low lights, incense and nature music sounds like babbling brooks and birdsong. I felt reassured. The hostess approached me looking worried. I pantomimed a massage rubbing my shoulders with kneading fingers. She called in another woman and the two engaged in a long and animated conversation behind a beaded curtain. The second woman came out and asked me something in Chinese and I again pantomimed a massage. Finally, they lead me to a darkened room with what I assumed was a massage table. I disrobed and lay face down on the table. A woman came in and proceeded to give me a pretty good massage. I paid and went home. Next day I mentioned my massage. I explained I went to the spa two blocks away. After pinpointing the exact location, I was told this was a high-end brothel.
Brothel or Spa?
“We Don’t Have Any That Big”
A story from: House Sit Diva
I have been traveling full-time for the past nine years as a housesitter where I live in someone’s home at no cost while caring for their pets. I have a recurring housesit in Ajijic, Mexico, one of the world’s largest expatriate communities. The community has been quite “gringo-ized”: I grocery shop at Walmart.
During one shopping trip, I approached the deli counter to buy chicken breasts, but I didn’t know the Spanish verbiage.
“Quieroseis pollo de este,” I blurted while pointing quickly at my own breast. (“I’d like six chicken, uh”¦.”)
Without missing a beat, the Mexican guy behind the counter responded in perfect English, “We don’t have any that big.”
For the record, the word for “chicken breast” is pechuga.
“We don’t have any that big…”
Korean Diplomat
A story from: The Vegan Word
When I was travelling around Asia after graduating, I once got on what I thought was a free sightseeing bus of Seoul. Not being able to read Korean, I went solely by the bright pictures and the circular route map drawn on the side of the bus. After boarding an empty bus, I tried to ask the driver if I was correct in thinking it was a free bus for visitors to Seoul but he didn’t speak any English and I spoke no Korean so we couldn’t communicate. He kept giving me a strange look which I assumed was because of our language barrier/communication challenges, but he waved me on nonetheless.
The bus pulled away after a few minutes, and to my surprise, instead of driving in a loop around the city, the driver proceeded to drive me out of the city, with no stops. He kept driving out of the city and up a mountain to a complex of beautiful, seemingly ancient traditional buildings, where he parked and proceeded to leave the bus.
Panicked, I ran after him, thinking I might be stuck up this mountain forever. After somehow communicating what time I could get the bus back to the city (in half an hour, after his break), I hopped off, thinking at least I could explore the old building complex for awhile… And then I finally saw some signage in English. The buildings were closed to the public for a political summit, and I’d just gotten the bus for visiting diplomats. No wonder he’d been looking at me askance””I was 23 at the time and dressed like a student backpacker rather than a diplomat!
Who knew a simple bus ride would lead to you being mistaken for a visiting diplomat?
How to Buy a Leather Jacket in Milan
A story from: Clipa
Travel mistakes and miscommunications occur all the time when shopping in a foreign country. I was a 19 year old American college student visiting Milan for the first time. Desperate to bring home a nice leather jacket, I chanced upon a lovely shop just off a fashionable street. The bomber jacket fit like a dream. It was beautiful and expensive. Unable to speak Italian, I asked the clerk in English if the jacket was made of cowhide or lamb. Unfortunately, the clerk was in the same predicament as I was: her English was just as bad as my Italian.
She looked at me quizzically, helpless. I thought a moment and then, holding up the jacket, I uttered two simple sounds: “moo” or “baa-ah”? She smiled, realizing instantly the nature of my question and replied: “baa-ah.” I bought the jacket.
Is this a ‘moo’ or ‘baa-ah’?
Japanese Post Office
A story from: Blorg
It’s very rare for me to experience Japanese culture shock. I’ve been to Japan a lot, but have only been to a Japanese post office a handful of times. Mostly to mail a postcard or a package which is pretty straightforward. But when I tried to mail an oversized postcard, I ran into an issue.
I was in a Japanese post office in Yokohama while trying to mail this awesome ramen postcard I picked up while in Osaka. The postcard was too big to mail! I wasn’t sure what my options were. I started thinking, “maybe we can fold it or cut off some pieces.”
That was not a good idea.
The post office worker spoke a little English and I spoke a little Japanese. Just enough so we could meet in the middle. She offered me an envelope to mail the postcard. I agreed and purchased a 2-pack of envelopes (since you can’t buy just one) for 90JPY.
I wrote out the address on the envelope, put the postcard in, then licked the flap to seal the envelope. Immediately after licking the flap, I realized there was no glue on the envelope. The expression of the post office worker made me think of how I currently look: A weird guy that licks envelopes for no reason. She then handed me some tape to seal the envelope.
To send the envelope with the postcard inside was another 90JPY for international postage. She told me if the postcard had been for within Japan, the envelope would not have been necessary. If the postcard had been regular sized, the international postage rate is 70JPY.
I thanked her for all her help and handed her the extra envelope for her to use or to give to another customer in need.
The Lesson: Don’t lick envelopes and look like a weirdo.
Who knew envelopes were different in different countries?
“Bill Posters will be prosecuted!”
A story from: Travels with Talek
This funny, common travel mistake happened when I was wandering around London with my husband. We were seeing signs all over the city declaring “Bill Posters will be prosecuted!” We speculated on what crimes Bill Posters could possibly have committed to elicit such visceral fury from the British people. We finally concluded that Bill Posters had to be a pedophile preying on local children because only a crime as heinous as that could cause this vow to find and prosecute Mr. Posters.
We were quite satisfied with our conclusion until we mentioned it to a local Brit who laughed and explained that it meant it is unlawful to paste posters and such on walls. That led to a conversation about similar misunderstandings and our friend explained that when he visited the U.S. he was surprised to see a sign in a mall that said, “no strollers allowed.” He wondered how the store expected to do any business if customers were not allowed to stroll around the store. It took a while until he realized a “stroller” is also a baby carriage in U.S. English.
“I love watching strollers go by, and wondering where they’ve come from and where they’re going…”
For more travel mishaps from travel bloggers, check out Lodging Disasters, Medical Misadventures, Attention Errors, or My Personal Travel Mishaps.
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