Life on the Road Part III: Adapting to Local Customs

One of the biggest reasons we love to travel is to soak up the local culture. Every day we hear different music, see people wearing different clothes, we speak another language. Traveling to one country is entertaining enough, but to cover 12 in a span 14 months involves a lot of adaptation.

Adapting to local customs is one of the more challenging, often hilarious, and most important things we've had to do over the last 350-plus days. The formerly simple is now confusing and bewildering in many circumstances, and the formerly mundane now provides a challenge or at the very least a good story or two.

Let's start with the most obvious. We don't speak Spanish. Sure, we've worked hard to learn our fair share over the last 12 months, we can buy a bus ticket, order food, and (on a good day) have a simple, slow conversation. But to really learn the ins and outs and to speak fluently takes years of constant immersion that we just don't have. The language barrier is both entertaining and frustrating. It's entertaining when Rich realizes he called a woman “fat” instead of “pretty” or when Kendra asks to “touch” a picture of someone instead of “take” one. It's frustrating when we don't understand why we're being charged twice as much as the locals for the same taxi and the explanation appears complicated. It's both frustrating and entertaining when we ask if the bread we're buying is cheese-filled, we're told yes and expect deliciousness to ensue, and the “cheese” turns out to be of the “Whiz” variety...

Latin America has it's similarities but every country is different. This includes the language, where the dialect and accent changes from region to region and country to country. Other basic customs change as well. We've had to relearn how to buy a bus ticket everywhere we've gone. In Mexico, you go to the office and the nice man in the nice suit prints one off a computer for you at a set price. In Colombia, you negotiate with psychotic competitors who will knock pennies off their enemy's price especially for you. In Guatemala, walk to the parking lot full of buses and get on the one whose engine is running. Pay later, if asked.

While from country to country and town to town we're constantly relearning how to shop, how to tip, how to say “good afternoon,” how to bargain, we've also had to deal with certain things as constants throughout most – we try to never say “all” - of Latin America.

Certain ways-of-doing are just flat out different. Crossing the street can be an adventure. Ever notice at home how those cars stop for you at intersections, crosswalks... hell, stop signs and red lights? Not here. Stay the hell out of the way because the cars ain't stoppin'. They'll honk at you to let you know they're about to run you down, but covering the brake is completely out of the question. Used to politely waiting your turn at the grocery store? Better not. Don't expect attention here without speaking up, and don't be surprised when locals step right in front of you with the full knowledge that you were there first. Sure, it's frustrating for us but here it's normal and it's not meant to be rude, it just is and if you stand idly by you won't get your mangos from the market stand anytime soon.

There are a number of cultural differences that when you look at them are fun, mostly in retrospect. In many parts of Latin America, you may sit on the bus uncomfortably close to, on top of, or underneath various individuals, for personal space possesses a very different state of being here. While we're on the subject of the bus, can we turn the music down please? Latin American's love their music and they love it loud, anywhere, everywhere. Wanna play “Spot the Gringo?” Look for the shorts and sandals, bikinis and tight pants, all rarely worn by Latinos even in the sweltering tropics.

There are also some situations where culture inevitably dictates some discomforts and inconveniences for us. There is generally less organization than we're used to, particularly in places like grocery stores, bus stations, post offices. We have to fight to have our voices heard. Another frustrating one is the tourist-local separation that often occurs: foreign tourists pay higher prices for many things. Sometimes this is standard, like at National Parks where the fees are fixed, and sometimes we can be flat out scammed, like on buses and in taxis or when we get haircuts. Usually we're not bothered to pay a higher price, we are after all far more economically well off than most locals we encounter, but we don't like being taken advantage of.

The local-tourist divide frustrates us in other ways sometimes as well, like the other night at a sporting event where the tourists sat in one section and the locals in another: we really wanted to sit with the locals to experience the event the way they do. There are also many restaurants and bars that cater so much to tourists that you'll rarely if ever see a local when you go there. Sometimes we head to these places for comfort food, other times we're frustrated when we want to experience local culture and find ourselves in a cafe full of Europeans and North Americans.

Sometimes we're forced to adapt to things beyond culture that are a part of traveling in less developed countries: Pollution being coughed up by traffic sometimes burns our eyes, it confounds us as to why the post office would notify us of a package that doesn't exist, and trash being thrown on the side of the road makes us wince.

But it's the culture that is the essential part of our experience, and we have a lot of fun learning all the little differences over and over again. We also just love to take in local music, art, food, and to sit out in a park or on the street and soak in the atmosphere which is always so different than home. After a year, we've become used to the constant change but we're always astounded by the little things that present themselves, and we're always forced to relearn our ways of being and doing things. Always good times!