I was asked a question on my Travelalphablog.
“I’m a little intimidated by going to countries where I don’t speak the language (which would be any country other than countries where English is the language). How do I get over that?”
My answer is, go anyway! I am not a particularly intrepid traveller. I knew a woman once who decided to travel throughout Pakistan on her own for three weeks. In her mind she was just “going on holiday.” I was amazed at her courage. An experienced traveller, she was not unaware of the dangers, but did seem completely fearless.
In my experience though, a little fear is a good thing. I’ve had people tell me that they felt safer in Thailand/Cambodia/Timbuktu etc than in the middle of Wellington at night. Well duh! They live in Wellington, they read the newspapers, hear the stories and know the risks of certain parts of the city intimately, their impression of the risks are exaggerated, all out of proportion, because of a few incidents. In other countries they don’t hear the bad stories, in fact they can’t hear them because they can’t read the newspapers or speak the language and so they’re not aware of the dangers. They blithely go about their business, feeling fine, and when no harm comes to them, they assume that that is because that particularly destination “is so much safer” than home. Ignorance is bliss, but bliss can be dangerous. When I was working as a diplomat, I met someone who intended riding his motorcycle through Thailand and on to Cambodia, completely unaware of the very serious and extensive landmine problem there. I counselled against it, never heard news of a New Zealander being blown to bits, and assume he now tells the story about the stupid diplomat exaggerating the dangers of the country, hiding in her embassy. I wonder though what he thought when he rode past the children with missing limbs?
So, in my view, a healthy degree of fear, or at least caution, is good. It keeps you alert, and safe. It is one of the reasons I try and learn bits of a language before I travel, especially if we are going to be driving and likely to find ourselves in more remote areas than the usual tourist spots. It was particularly helpful when we found ourselves in the middle of nowhere in Spain, with the oil light flashing on our rental car asking us to stop, and another 100 or so km to drive that day. That and a phrase book, and a gesticulating Spanish garage serviceman, solved our problem and sent us happily on our way.
Those of us who speak English are both lucky and unlucky. Lucky because we can travel most places, especially if we stick to major cities or popular tourist destinations. In Budapest and Prague I had never even heard their languages, but English was so widely spoken we had no problems at all. But even off the beaten track we will find people who speak English. I remember arriving at a hotel in Villach, a small lakeside town in southern Austria, waiting to check in until the student down the road – who knew a little English – arrived to help. When the peace process in Cambodia began in 1991, a country that had been isolated and in darkness for 20 years saw its doors open to the world. The French sought to recapture their former place in their former colony. But market forces won, and students rushed to the newly opened English language schools. They knew what language they needed at the end of the 20th century. A friend in Thailand expressed her feelings of total injustice that they had to speak to their southeast Asian neighbours, even those with whom they shared a border, in their only common language – English.
But I think we’re unlucky too. We don’t feel forced to study new languages, to develop a fluency, and to have all the fun and insight that new languages give you. Unlucky because even when we do make the attempt to speak another language, the locals frequently respond in English, almost always more fluent than us. Or they hand you an English menu which translated makes no sense, when I’ve carefully studied all the food names in Spanish/German etc. But we are lucky because the world is really our oyster. I can drop everything and fly somewhere/anywhere tomorrow, and be pretty confident that I could communicate. Sure, you sometimes feel like a fish out of water when you can’t speak the local language. Or worse, you simply feel like an ignorant tourist! It can be uncomfortable, embarrassing, awkward at times. Even frightening perhaps, depending on your circumstances. But as John Wayne said, “Courage is being scared to death – and saddling up anyway.” The rewards are worth it.
There will of course always be times or places when we might have to resort to sign language. But a smile always helps. Laughter opens doors. Beer is always the first word any traveller learns. And “coffee/cafe” is universally understood.
I can feel like an ignorant tourist in the US…I have felt like one in my own classroom, for that matter.
I have yet to leave and find my way somewhere foreign, not even a day trip across the border to Mexico. The closest I can claim is south Texas. But I don’t think fear keeps me home. I think I’m just too busy to consider what a trip to Asia or Europe would entail. Not when I want to see the badlands and the southwest US again so soon…
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Bridgett, I know I’d feel like an ignorant tourist on a marae (a Maori meeting place) and plenty of other places here too. It must be a dilemma for so many Americans – travel overseas or at home. Your country is soooo big!
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It’s usually not the language thing that worries me, it’s the getting from the airport to town once I’ve arrived in some other country. It just seems enormously stressful. Maybe it’s having to deal with luggage, crowds, the possibility of getting ripped off, and perhaps another language all at the same time.
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Wonderful post, wonderful points, especially about our safety perceptions…
In Italy, I could say “due espresso.”
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Hey — I wondered where I asked that question — I thought it was on Facebook and was surprised it wasn’t there when I checked back. (I suspected more drunken facebooking on my part)
Thanks for answering it in such detail. My main fear is that I’d seem like an ignorant tourist & Ugly American.
I have been to countries where I didn’t speak the language (Denmark, Italy, Germany, France, & Switzerland) but was young and fearless. Now not so much so. The good thing is there are still a few countries that I can go to where English is the main language.
Perhaps we’ll go back to Europe someday — I don’t know about Asia though. But who knows?
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CW: You have to go to Asia!! It is brilliant, so different, and a real eye opener for your children. I’d do you a plan for a trip to Thailand any day.
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ignorance is an attitude, not a lack of language fluency.
but language has never seemed a barrier to me … not like time, money, and oceans, anyway.
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I agree, ignorance is an attitude. It’s hard not to feel ignorant though when you’re somewhere and they can speak to you in English but you can’t speak German/Khmer/whatever!
Sigh … the money barrier … and time … I know.
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