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29

Jun

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.

Much to her surprise, a Paraguayan man in the meeting stood up, puffed out his chest, and insisted that lunch was the time to socialize with his colleagues, to learn about their families and their health, and actually eat his meal in peace.

We followed his lead and enjoyed the people and the pisco sour at lunch that day.

Two business colleagues at lunch in a restaurant in Santiago, Chile, enjoying each other rather than working over lunch, a cultural taboo in Chile. (Image © Sally Baho )

Taking time for people at lunch in Santiago, Chile.
© Sally Baho

#2 Romania, France, and Spain: Wait for the Cue

In Romania, only when the host(ess) says pofta buna may you begin eating. Similar wishes to enjoy the meal are common signals in other countries, too. In France, it’s bon appétit.  In Spain, it’s buen provecho.  And it’s taboo to start before the wish is spoken.

#3 Morocco: Be a Grateful Guest

A friend and I stayed with a family in Morocco.  When it came time to take a meal, we all ate off of one central plate.  The family would not eat the meat from the platter, and instead pushed it to our side.

We pantomimed that they eat the meat, too.  They refused. We were their guests, and we soon learned that our role was to show how much we enjoyed and appreciated the dish, their company, and the environment.

Many cultures may wish to honor the guests by giving a toast, serving them first, or insisting they eat the best food.  Graciously accept.

#4 Korea: Offer and Accept with Both Hands

In Korea, when offered or offering something—whether it be a cup, a dish, a napkin, money or pouring a drink—hold the item with both hands or at least touch your second hand to the arm carrying the item to show full intention and dedication to the act you are doing.

A young lady using both hands to pour soju for her father at lunch, illustrating respect for cultural do's and taboos. (Image © Sally Baho)

Pouring a drink with two hands shows respect.
© Sally Baho

#5 Chile: Always Use Utensils

In Chile, it is considered rude to eat with your hands. Use your utensils for everything, even something you may think of as finger food, like French fries.

#6 Ethiopia: Never Use Utensils

Ethiopian meals are served on a big central platter over injera bread—a sour, porous flat bread that is made from teff flour and used to scoop the dishes that are served directly on top of it.  Individual plates and cutlery are not used.

A traditional Ethiopian meal served on injera bread, illustrating different cultural do's and taboos at lunch around the world. (Image © Tendur / iStock)

A traditional Ethiopian meal—the injera bread serves as
both the dish and the utensils!
© Tendur / iStock

#7 Spain: Acknowledge Other Diners

In the US, it’s not unusual to enter a restaurant, isolate your party at a table, and leave as a group.  But when you exit a restaurant or are leaving a meal in Spain, wish the other diners who are still eating buen provecho. 

#8 Japan and China: Make Some Noise

Making noises while you eat, considered rude in some cultures, is a sign of meal appreciation in most Asian countries. Slurping soup and noodles in Japan and belching in China are compliments to the chef.

A woman slurping a noodle from a soup bowl, demonstrating different cultural do's and taboos at lunch around the world. (Image © Sean Barley / iStock)

Listen for the slurp—it’s a compliment!
© Sean Barley / iStock

#9 China: Leave a Little on Your Plate

By leaving a little bit of food on your plate in China, you are signaling to the hosts that they have provided you with plenty of food—a sign of abundance—which is considered a good thing.

#10 France and Spain: Don’t Rush the Coffee

You may like to have a coffee with dessert after your meal.  But asking for coffee and dessert together in Spain or France signals that you’re in a rush.  Wait for the coffee, and you’ll fit right in with friends who value the long after-dinner linger in France and the sobremesa, the slow conversation that carries on at the table after the meal in Spain.

A plaza full of diners at dinner enjoying the slow, post-meal conversation, illustrating how cultural do's and taboos vary by country. (Image © JackF / iStock)

Whether at lunch or dinner in Spain, the end of dessert is never the end of the meal.
© JackF / iStock

Dining Around the World Is Easy!

Sharing a meal is one of the most beautiful experiences about traveling. All you need is an appetite and the savvy to navigate each country’s cultural do’s and taboos. A little research before you visit a new place will likely increase your worldwide dining wisdom. Surely, it will lead to some “Oh, I see” moments and a good time at lunch!

For more tips on navigating lunch around the world, see these infographics from Chef Works and Foodbeast. For broader information on different cultures, see the country guides at Everyculture and Kwintessential. 

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Crossing Cultures/Cultural Do's & Taboos/Worldwide Sites

01

Jun

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.

Warm Wadi Rum

Highway through Wadi Rum lined with palm trees, experienced during trip where cultural barriers were bridged. (Image © Sally Baho)

Now tree-lined, the King’s Highway is the road
where, according to the Old Testament,
Moses was refused passage.
© Sally Baho

The two-lane King’s Highway leading into the wadi (valley) is flanked with palm trees. All you can see for miles is the desert with occasional herds of camels and goats.

It was just over 100˚F as we exited the air-conditioned car and were immediately overcome with dry, desert heat.

The reds and pinks and oranges of the desert only added to the physical heat, but it was a sweet heat like an all inclusive, warm hug.

Orange and red sand desert in Wadi Rum, where a traveler can experience bridging cultural barriers with Bedouin people. (Image © Sally Baho)

With the colors of the desert adding to the heat of the climate, you cannot escape the warmth.
© Sally Baho

We boarded a Jeep for a tour around the desert. From the hot wind to the swirling sands and the jutting rocks, the warmth was omnipresent.

A girl iwith wind-blown hair in an open-air jeep on a trip that bridges cultural barriers in Wadi Rum, Jordan. (Image © Sally Baho)

Wind-blown hair in an open air jeep
© Sally Baho

We stopped and had coffee with a Bedouin family, who had flagged us down—they were welcoming and shared their strong, bitter coffee with us.  While we only spent about thirty minutes with them, it was enough time to be out of the sun and rest in the shade with hospitable people.

A Bedouin man and a tent set in front of a jagged butte in Wadi Rum, Jordan. Sharing coffee in his tent, we bridged our cultural barriers. (Image © Sally Baho)

Shelter in the hot, midday sun in Wadi Rum, Jordan
© Sally Baho

The Warmth of an Unlikely Friendship

After our desert tour, I happened upon the gift shop at the Visitor’s Center that sold ceramic handiworks made by local girls and women through an initiative sponsored by USAID (United States Agency for International Development).  USAID provided the infrastructure and resources to help maintain the Bedouin pottery-making practice and simultaneously empower girls and women.

Women making and selling pottery at a co-op near Wadi Rum, Jordan in hopes of bridging cultural barriers. (Image © USAID)

Women creating pottery at a coop near Petra, Jordan
© USAID

A Nestle KitKat Bar from Jordan; no cultural barriers here. © Sally Baho

Chocolate, the universal
conversation starter
© Sally Baho

I chatted with the attendant, Rabbia, and offered her half of the KitKat bar I was eating. Her face lit up, and the conversation began flowing with ease.

I explained my background and Rabbia’s curiousity was piqued—she wanted to know where I came from, why I spoke Arabic, if I was traveling alone, was I married, etc.

Rabbia and I were both in our early twenties. We loved art, chocolate, had the same taste in music, were close with our families, and were passionate about life.  We asked each other candid questions about each others’ lifestyles, and benign curiosity shone through as the motivation behind the questions.  I found myself talking and laughing and sharing a beautiful moment with a person from a very different background than me.

In a ceramic gift shop in Wadi Rum, two ladies find a friendship that bridged their cultural barriers. (Image © Sally Baho)

A desert friendship
© Sally Baho

Oh, I See

By being open, you can act as your own bridge to any cultural barriers that may exist.  My experience in Wadi Rum showed me that despite the harsh conditions and my purely touristic visit to the desert, I found people who were willing to share and be kind so long as I was open to it.  Travel does this to you—it forces you to open up to others, and in doing so you see the beauty of what people have in common.

“Travel is fatal to prejudice, bigotry, and narrow-mindedness.”

—Mark Twain

Find more information on Jordanian Culture at the Embassy of Jordan site.

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Crossing Cultures/Cultural Heritage & Traditions/Jordan

11

May

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.

A Sense-sational Trip

Traveling—when done right—hits all your senses.  My trip began in the streets of Antigua, a colonial town and UNESCO World Heritage Site, where old cobblestone streets crawl past colorful facades.

I continued to noisy Guatemala City where a walk through the crowded Mercado Central captivated my senses. The sharp smell of fresh fruit. The pots of simmering meat. The sound and smell and taste of the sizzling tortillas on the griddle.

Close up of a moronga (blood sausage) taco with tomatoes and onions, and a Gallo beer bottle in the background., a tasty memory recalled during the post-vacation blues. (Image © Sally Baho)

Moronga (blood sausage) taco
at the Mercado Central in Guatemala City
© Sally Baho

I thought back to the two old ladies who insisted on feeding the gringa (me) some of the moronga (blood sausage) taco they were eating . . . with their bare hands.

I relived my flight north from Guatemala City to Flores and how the vista of the Isla de Flores in Lake Petén Itzá opened my eyes wide to new wonders.

Aerial view of Isla de Flores in northern Guatemala, a beautiful memory recalled during post-Vacation blues. (Image © Rafael Amado Deras)

Isla de Flores, Guatemala, where the water is as inviting as the view!
© Rafael Amado Deras

The memory of all these sensory experiences, however, only heightened my sense of sadness.

New Friends in New Places

I missed the new friends I had made, too. And I missed how easy it feels when I’m traveling to make new friends.

Only three days ago, I had shared a canoe ride with a lady I had just met. We drank a cold beer as we leisurely rowed away from the vibrant Isla de Flores. I was on vacation: no watch, no alarm clock, no email, no desk, just me and my whims.

I met Ilse on the street. We were both looking to rent a canoe which happened to be only for two people, and we were both alone.

“OK, quiero ponerme el traje de baño,” (OK, I have to change into my bathing suit) I said, as we coordinated payment and logistics.

“Y yo voy a comprar la cerveza,” (And I’ll go buy the beer), she answered.

Three wooden canoes on a body of water, providing one of endless experiences whose memory can spark the post-vacation blues. (Image © frankdennerlein / Thinkstock)

Where can this canoe take you?
© frankdennerlein / Thinkstock

Ten minutes later,  we were walking along the shore of the tiny island to a jerry-rigged “dock”—a few rusty canoes chained to a rotting post.  Balancing oars, plastic bags, and sandals, we climbed in the canoe and started talking about life.

It’s amazing how travel works—you lose inhibitions, you’re open to life and all the experiences it has to offer.  It’s so easy to share personal thoughts and stories, much more so than in your daily life.

Back to the Same Old Life in the Same Old Place

Here at home, life just wasn’t the same. To quell my loneliness and blues:

Bag of Guatemalan coffee in a Guatemalan textile bag with a worry doll, part of a strategy to get over the post-vacation blues. (Image © Sally Baho)

A cup of Guatemalan coffee and a worry doll didn’t get me over my post-vacation blues.
© Sally Baho

  • I put on some Latin music and made coffee from beans brought back from Guatemala.
  • I looked at my travel photos and researched cheap flights back to Guatemala.
  • I unwrapped my Guatemalan worry dolls and tried to pass off my big case of post-vacation blues to the tiny doll.

Blasting Away the Post-Vacation Blues

And then my phone buzzed. It was Saturday morning when my local running group meets for our long run.

“Are you coming? We want stories!”

I begrudgingly laced up my shoes and headed out to meet the group. We ran a route I had never run before.

One of the guys told me that we were approaching “The Window of the Bay” and, when we emerged from this clearing, there would be a beautiful view. He instructed me to yell, “we live here” as soon as I saw the view.

“How will I know?” I inquired.

“You’ll just know.”

So we continued our run, swapping stories, laughing, chatting when suddenly we came upon a clearing with a panoramic view of the ocean.

“WE LIVE HERE!” I screamed and did a jump for joy.

View of the Pacific Ocean, during a run designed to blast away the post-vacation blues. (Image © Sherry Long)

The view of the Pacific Ocean from the running path…
it’s hard to believe that the same waters touch Guatemala
© Sherry Long

Oh, I See

And like that, my post-vacation blues disappeared.

It dawned on me that it’s not about where you are; it’s about your attitude. It’s about finding the things that make your heart race where you live (or moving to the place that fulfills you, if that’s an option).

It’s about bringing back the openness to other people that you feel when you travel—the kind that makes you head down to the tourist trap in your area, chat with some travelers, and maybe even invite them for a canoe ride.

Airplane ticket from Flores to</br>Guatemala City, a scrapbook item that turns post-vacation blues into a good memory of the trip. (Image © Sally Baho)

I’m learning to see “goodbyes”
as “until next adventures”
© Sally Baho

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Art of Travel/Guatemala

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