Tripwolf Blog

I’ve lived in 4 countries. Due to the large amounts of time I’ve spent in each, I’ve explored their regions, learned 2 new languages, experienced their holidays, and eaten my weight in their traditional foods. Through this, I gained a heightened understanding of their culture.

If only it were practical to spend years in every place on our “must visit” lists. Short visits can be fabulous, but getting ushered into Disney-like tourist traps can be frustrating – leaving you wondering if you even saw the “real” Italy at all. My best tip for getting an authentic hit of local culture on your trip? Head to a grocery store.

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The honeymoon days in any new place are often an exciting blur. Sometimes, that sense of wonder gets marred by the shame of making a cultural faux pas. As Vincent Vega said in “Pulp Fiction,” “It’s the little differences.”  Just as with Irish-English, there are a few cultural twists here in Ireland that have embarrassed me in the company of my new peers. Fool me once, Ireland.

Paper or Plastic … or Nothing? 

In America, supermarkets give shoppers their choice of free paper or plastic grocery bags. Irish supermarkets are a bit more eco-conscious so to minimize waste, they give away … nothing. Until you catch on you’ll stand there, dumb as a stone, faced with the prospect of juggling loose cartons of orange juice and cereal boxes all the way home. Chains like TESCO sell reusable bags, which are grand. Unless you forget yours. 

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Two international moves in three years; I must be crazy. Yet, I can’t tell you how many times a friend has sighed, “You’re so lucky. I wish I could run off and live overseas, too.”

I enjoy the admiration. For some, starting over in a foreign land is the ultimate fantasy. And I won’t lie; I love it out here. But “running off”? Hardly. Some things to consider before you commit to moving abroad:

Focus – Get Legal

Envisioning a “time out” or something longer-term? Regardless, you must get legal unless you like having your coconut milk soured by the fear of deportation. Volunteering, studying, or working are great ways to add structure to your adventure. An organization will often sponsor your Visa and help you get settled.

If you’re after a sabbatical, volunteer programs also exist for shorter time periods. Alternatively, many countries grant a Visitor Visa upon entry. Make sure you’re familiar with which countries do and how long the Visas last.

Money

There’s the plane ticket. Then there’s start up costs, which varies by country. My company in Japan suggested we arrive with at least 2000 USD. That seemed unnecessary since I had a job. Overall, I’m glad I worked overtime the year before I moved. Save up: there are lots of unexpected items you’ll need and newbies often get fleeced.

Job

Find a job before or after you arrive? It’s your choice – just be honest about how much stability you need. A Working Holiday Visa can be your golden ticket if your country participates in the program. Also research internet job forums; they’ll feature job listings and accounts from veteran expatriates. If you’re moving to a country where you don’t speak the language, be aware that you might have to do something outside of your field, like teaching English or working in the service industry.

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In Thailand, the sea life is suspicious. It is guarded by environmentalists, worshiped in documentaries … and unable to relax in the presence of clumsy human intruders. My fellow Koh Phagnan day trippers – their flesh shredded by lurking coral – can attest to the suspicion, as can my fish-bitten legs and my friend Ginger’s foot; the recipient of a surprise attack.

We’d traveled through Bangkok – two days of fighting our way through Khao San Road and choking on tuk tuk dust. In contrast, Koh Phagnan sparkled with white sand and aquamarine seas; a paradise film reel jarred only by the creep of tourists.

Millennia from our lives as ESL teachers, we snorkeled between forest-capped cliffs, flanked by wooden longboats.

Our guide delighted in sprinkling breadcrumbs onto us to lure writhing swarms of black-and-yellow striped fish. This is how I was bitten and how I was able to leap back into the boat, my churning legs touching only air…

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So here I am … again. I’ve just uprooted myself from New York, four months after uprooting myself from Japan. Now I’m in Ireland. Another new place, another new life … another new language? Don’t they speak English here? Ah, they do, sure. Ireland’s native language – Irish – was eclipsed by English in the 19th century due to the economic pressures of the Famine; it’s spoken mainly as a second language today. While Irish-English uses much British-English vocabulary – cookie = biscuit, trash = rubbish, etc. – its colorful twists can leave an American gal feeling daft. For ye, a mini Irish-English survival guide:

Greetings

Expecting a hearty “top o’ the mornin’” ? You’d be wrong there, b’hoy. The phrase might be popular in Hollywood, but nobody actually says it in Ireland. Instead, you’ll hear:

American-English: How are you?
Irish-English: How’s the form?

American-English: What’s up?
Irish-English: What’s the craic?

Irish-English often incorporates Irish words or grammar. Craic – pronounced “crack” – is an Irish word loosely translated as “liveliness.”

Common Courtesy

I’ve noticed a vein of cynicism running through Irish society. Maybe that’s why I get sniggers when I’m overexcited by Sunday roast or when I wish someone a nice day. Take it down a notch and you’ll be grand.

After agreeable transactions:

American-English: Awesome; thanks, dude!
Irish-English: Grand. Cheers.

After pleasant encounters:

American-English: Have a nice day!
Irish-English: Good luck to ya.

But upon entering a home:

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Like Guatemala itself – a country nicknamed “Land of Eternal Spring” – Guatemala City has experienced constant rebirth. Since replacing Antigua as Guatemala’s seat of power in 1773, it has weathered earthquakes, political scandals, and daunting crime rates to become one of the largest and most cosmopolitan cities in Central America and the Caribbean. Troubles aside, Guatemala City’s architectural beauty and rich history make it an intriguing place to visit.

Guatemala City is located in a mountain valley, its borders dotted by four volcanoes. For thrill seekers, the active 2552m high Volcan Pacaya is 50 km Southwest of the city. Guides are available for hire and make the hike look simple, though some might prefer renting a burro. The terrain, streaked with dried lava, turns to rocky ash and, finally, to craters of glowing lava and a breathtaking valley view.

Back on Earth, the capital hums with activity. Traffic seems ceaseless as commuters flood the streets, often en route to beautiful colonial Antigua. Urbanites are busy but laid back. Few walk – public transport includes taxis and the new Transmetro bus system, though the colorfully tricked out “chicken buses” are perhaps better known. The military presence is strong in the capital; armed troops are a common sight.

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Frequent adventurers might run into the following phrase as often as they book plane tickets: “I’d love to do what you’re doing, but I’d miss too many things back home.” Certainly, anyone leaving home for an extended period of time is going to have to do without. Missing things is part of the game, and it rarely stops any hardcore traveler. When I  decided to move to Japan, I expected to miss the important things, like my loved ones. While I absolutely did miss them, I found it was the little absences that rattled me; small things often taken for granted in daily life that I never expected to miss. For example:
Knowing How to Read. So simple, so humbling. If you’re moving to a country where you can’t read the writing system, you’ll have to learn to read again from scratch when you learn the language. Seven year-old children will be able to read signs faster than you will. Ouch.

Eating in Public. In Japan, eating in public (i.e., on the train) is one of the rudest things you can do … apart from the filthy act of nail biting. Sometimes, your new culture will frown upon things that seem innocent to you and you’ll yearn for the days when you could snack on a cookie without receiving a synchronized death glare from a mob of elderly men.

Familiar Toiletries. Every country has their own brands of medicines and drugstore goodies, but they might not work as well as your favorites or they might have undecipherable packaging. Filling my suitcase with Theraflu served me well, as it took me months to learn enough Japanese to read medicine bottles.

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Many travelers undertake religious pilgrimages – dusty hajis to Mecca and reverent strolls through the Vatican. I enjoy literary pilgrimages myself. I’ve paid respects to Thomas Hardy’s “Wessex,” Margaret Landon’s Siam, and Jonathan Swift’s Trinity College Dublin. Nothing whets my appetite for exploration like exotic literature; the original travel writing. Why not let a favorite story shape your next trip?

Some trip suggestions:

• Go back to school: Anne of Green Gables (Prince Edward Island, Canada), The Catcher in the Rye (New York City), To Kill a Mockingbird (the deep American South), Grimm’s Fairy Tales (Germany), Oedipus Rex (Greece).
• Stop letting fiction satisfy your historical passions and head to the scene of the crime. Love Le Morte d’Arthur? The castles of the British Isles await, my lord. Into the American Great Depression? Follow Steinbeck to California’s Central Valley. World War II buff? Make like Michener and dive into your own tales of the South Pacific.
• Visit a favorite author’s stomping grounds. Tours are available of places like Edgar Allen Poe’s basement in Philadelphia, William Faulkner’s office in Mississippi, and Shakespeare’s birthplace in Warwickshire, England. Revel in the moveable feast of French scenery that inspired Ernest Hemingway.
• Ditch your cultural comfort zone. Think novels like King Solomon’s Mines (Africa), One Hundred Years of Solitude (Colombia), A Passage to India, and The Joy Luck Club (China).

Once you’ve picked your destination, get psyched by rereading the tale. Thumb the pages on the plane or reread the story in the actual locale itself, when you can literally see the images coming alive.

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If you love bathing in Japan’s beautiful hot springs, you’re not alone. Welcome to Yamanouchi Town; famous for the monkeys who’ve made a habit of taking refuge from the biting cold by basking in the region’s naturally hot waters.

Japanese Macaques – popularly known as “snow monkeys” - are indigenous to Japan. Red-faced, squat, and covered with thick tan fur, they fight, forage, and soak in Yamanouchi’s Jigokudani Monkey Park. Yamanouchi itself is located in mountainous Nagano Prefecture. More than a dozen hot springs bubble here, but Yudanaka and Shibu springs are the best known. Yudanaka can be reached by train or bus from Nagano Station in 45 minutes, offering connecting buses to Shibu that take 5 minutes. Jigokudani Monkey Park is 6 kilometers from Yudanaka Station, but once there, explore the hot springs yourself before paying your respects to the monkeys.

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With the global economy in crisis, many of us have had to learn to do without, whether we’re missing our paycheck or our weekly tee time. The travel industry has responded by slashing airfares; fantastic deals if they fit your plans and budget. Alternatively, the media has latched onto “staycations.” Recently, I tried out another economic crisis travel option: visiting the town where I grew up.

The economic upsides to a “trip” like this are obvious: 1) you’re likely to know someone who’ll put you up 2) your souvenir allowance can go towards practical things like “thank you” dinners or gas and 3) you know the land, so you can get the best deal. Barring the economic benefits, revisiting your roots can always be an interesting trip. You’re older. You have the benefit of an enlightened perspective. If enough time has passed, the community might have changed enough to illicit wonder. If it hasn’t, you might have changed enough yourself to see your home town through the eyes of a traveler and find beauty in unexpected places.

I call New York City “home,” but like many New Yorkers, I grew up elsewhere. A trip back to my roots takes me to Crystal River on Florida’s Gulf Coast – beloved by tourists for its population of gentle manatees. As a teenager, I was desperate to leave; I dreamed of glittering cities and exotic travels. Since moving to Manhattan 11 years ago, my trips back are always few and far between. Each time I return, the town seems less familiar, even though apart from some new chain restaurants, it hasn’t changed very much. That strange unfamiliarity is where the discovery comes in. That’s when I stop focusing on the things I never liked and start to enjoy exploring the place I used to call home.

Crystal River is a quiet place that demands little. After hectic cities, I find the slow pace and open skies relaxing. Go ahead, leave your car doors unlocked when driving through town. Enjoy a smile from your waitress. Don’t take offense to being called “ma’am” if you’re 20; all women are “ma’am” in Crystal River. Read More »