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Travel Cultures Language

At Lunch in the World—How to Stay Out of the Soup

by Sally Baho on June 29, 2015

The continents depicted in cream in a bowl of tomato soup, illustrating that people at lunch around the world have different cultural do's and taboos. (Image © eyegelb / iStock)

Places to eat, and people to meet. Do you know what’s taboo?
© eyegelb / iStock

10 Cultural Do’s & Taboos at the Table

When you travel the world, there’s much more to dining than tasting the food.  In fact, it’s the cultural dimension of the dining table (or mat) that often makes or breaks the meal. Here are 10 cultural do’s and taboos to keep you out of the soup when you’re at lunch in the world.

#1 Chile: Respect the Mealtime

In many places in Latin America, the working lunch just doesn’t work.  On a business trip to Santiago, Chile, a colleague suggested that we save time by continuing our meeting over lunch.

True Warmth in Jordan’s Wadi Rum Desert

by Sally Baho on June 1, 2015

A golden-red canyon in Wadi Rum, Jordan illustrating a barrier as large as the cultural barriers that some travelers to the Middle East may feel are in place. (Image © Sally Baho)

In a climate so harsh, it’s no wonder people are so warm to one another.
© Sally Baho

Crossing Geographic and Cultural Barriers

It was the dead of summer, and I was taking a road trip from Aqaba, Jordan, back to the capital, Amman. We stopped in Wadi Rum to explore the desert that Lawrence of Arabia had traversed just about a century prior.

Although not as grandiose as T.E. Lawrence’s experiences, my short time in Wadi Rum was a lesson in bridging cultural barriers by way of unexpected friendships.

From Colorful Guatemala to Post-Vacation Blues

by Sally Baho on May 11, 2015

Off-centered door in yellow stucco wall, a colorful memory recalled during post-vacation blues.  (Image © Scott Kafer)

The flowers aren’t the only thing that provide color in Antigua, Guatemala,
the houses remind you of a painter’s palette. © Scott Kafer

Finding the Color Wherever You Are

Only yesterday, I had returned from Guatemala, surrounded by people, colors, smells, and noise—music, cars, crowds, conversation. Now here I was back in Pacific Grove, CA, known as “America’s last hometown,” waking to the low hum of my refrigerator. Looking around, my once beloved apartment seemed silent, cold, desolate.

I felt as if someone had pulled the plug on me—where was everyone?  They had gone and left me with the post-vacation blues.

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