How to Make Better Connections with Locals When Traveling

Last week, I told you how I pretend I’m a secret military operative when I’m exploring a new country. Now that we have all the intense security stuff out of the way, let’s move on to a more playful and interactive way to enjoy travel: blending in like a local. 

I was in Tel Aviv a couple of years ago, and people kept speaking to me in Hebrew. One woman even stopped me on Meir Dizengoff Street to ask for directions (or at least I think that’s what she was asking based on your arm movements). I wondered why she asked me. 

Only a few months later, it happened again in Puerto Rico. I walked into a boutique, and the shop assistant explained all the sales racks in Spanish, not English. He kept on talking, then suddenly stopped, furrowed his eyebrows, and asked in English: “You speak Spanish, right?” I told him yes, a little, and asked why he thought I spoke Spanish. He said, “You look like you do!” Okay.  

A year later, I chatted with a shopkeeper in Athens, but she kept eyeing me suspiciously. “Where are you from?” she asked. 

“America,” I said.

“No.” She shook her head. “Where are you really from?”

Is she asking for my Ancestry.com breakdown? “I’m half Irish.”

“Ahh! That’s enough.” She smiled. “You’re one of us.” She told me I wasn’t like other Americans: big-hearted but loud. 

“I know exactly what you mean,” I said. And we laughed. 

Finally, I understood I was doing something differently than other American tourists to give off a local vibe. Now, to be clear, I’m proud AF to be American. However, my patriotism isn’t loud, as in I’m gonna wear an American flag print bikini while riding a bald eagle, Budweiser in one hand, pistol in the other hand, shooting bags of British tea like I’m trap shooting (although, let’s be honest — if I ever have the opportunity to do this, I’m so in). I take a quieter approach to my love of country, especially when traveling, because not everyone feels the same about the good ol’ U-S-of-A. Not behaving like the American Tourist™ stereotype will help you stay safe and make genuine connections with locals. 

Here are the key things I do to create the local aesthetic with how I look, speak, and act while still having a great travel experience. 

Are you really gonna wear that? 

When I travel internationally, I avoid two categories of clothing at all costs: American sports logos and location-specific fashion clichés. 

If you stan for the Green Bay Packers, I love that for you. But that doesn’t need to be advertised while eating gelato strolling the streets of Rome. The outfit screams, “I’m not from here!!!” If I were a professional European pick pocketer and saw anyone wearing a baggy, oversized T-shirt with an American football helmet, I’d reach for their back pocket. Simply from the outfit, I’d know they aren’t from here, and they have a level of oblivion, making them an easy target. Save for sports fandom gear for jammies in the hotel when traveling.

Are you going to Paris? Did you pack your black and white striped shirt with a red beret? Did you also bring your baguette-shaped tote bag? One more question… do you think you’re Emily in Paris? This outfit is almost as unfortunate as wearing a tracksuit with the Kansas City Chiefs logo plastered all over it. However, the message is much worse. Not only are you saying, “I ain’t from these parts,” you’re also saying, “I’m ignorant because this tacky outfit is what I’ve reduced your culture down to.” Très ringard.

How should you dress then? Simply, comfortably, respectful of cultural customs, and for the weather of your location. 

Be a parrot

You don’t have to know more than ten words of a language to make someone think you’re fluent. The trick is to say the ten words that you know flawlessly.

Let’s take French, for example.

After walking into only two shops in the South of France, I noticed a pattern in how the workers said bonjour. Their voices get higher and sing-songy on the - jour, like a mini crescendo. At my next stop, I pretended to be a character in the opening montage of Disney’s Beauty and The Beast, performing my little solo. The next thing I knew, the woman was gabbing at me in French like I was her BFF. 

“Je suis désolé. Je ne parle pas français.” I gave her a crooked smile.

She looked me up and down. “Hmmph. You look French.” 

Good pronunciation has gotten me in trouble, though, especially in Spanish. I consider myself to be semi-fluent in Spanish, but when I’m tired and crabby from traveling, I only wanna speak English. One time, while feeling particularly overwhelmed by living out of my suitcase, I went out for a solo dinner in Spain. I chose the restaurant because their menu was American-y in dish composition. Tapas are cool but sometimes a bitch just wants a piece of grilled salmon with some veggies. And to be left alone… which the waiter wasn’t doing.

“I’ll have the salmon and a spinach salad, please.” I had exchanged initial pleasantries in Spanish, and my cranky ass was done being bilingual.

“¿El salmón y… ?” The waiter had a twinkle in his eye and a playful smirk.

I sighed. “Y la ensalada de espinaca, por favor.” 

“Ahh! Sé que hablas español.” He poked and prodded me to use Spanish for the rest of the meal. I tried my best to butcher my Spanish to discourage him. I couldn’t bring myself to stoop to the level of a “grassy ass.” 

So be warned. Expert pronunciation can get you in with the locals, but maybe you should ask yourself if that’s what you want first. 

Act like you have somewhere to be. 

A local moves about their town with purpose, so before leaving the hotel, I do some recon to move with efficiency, too.   This is particularly key if you’re going to a coffee shop. Any local cafe that’s worth a damn will have a loyal following of regulars — these are the people you want to emulate. As a known regular at my home coffee shop, I don’t need to look at the menu before ordering. My coffee order is always the same. If I’m feeling carby and order a baked good, it’s ALWAYS the same. And if I feel struck to order a smoothie, it’s — you guessed it!  —  the same friggin’ blended fruit and protein powder concoction. If you take a few moments in the hotel to select your preferred caffeine tincture, you can confidently walk up to the counter and order efficiently. You won’t be the annoying person holding up the line in Portugal because you’re not sure if “um leite” is the same thing as a latte (they’re not).

Often, when I’m out exploring, I have an open agenda and timeline. Other than a coffee shop, I have no clear destination in mind. Yet, I walk like I’m on my way to a meeting where I’m the main presenter, and I stopped for an iced coffee, so now I’m about 15 minutes late and gotta make up some time. People who stop for coffee knowing it will make them late are mission-oriented (the mission is coffee, not the meeting, btw) and unbothered. The pace isn’t a frantic White Rabbit hopping down the sidewalk, fumbling with his pocket watch, agonizing-over-every-second pace. It’s more like Bella Hadid strutting past the paparazzi. You walk fast, head held high, and make that sidewalk your catwalk. No matter where you’re from, everyone knows you don’t interrupt a supermodel strut. 

I’m Still a Tourist

Even though I try hard to blend in, I know I still kind of don’t. I’m experiencing the city through new eyes. I’m sure there are ways I stand out that I’m not even aware of. However, there are a couple of things I do that I know make it obvious I’m not a local. So, when I have my coffee in hand, wearing a simple tank top with a baggy button-up over it and jeans, I blow my cover at the sight of a cat.

If I see a European street cat, I will try to be that cat’s best friend. I can’t help myself! Americans don’t have the same reverence for felines as Europeans do. If someone befriends stray cats in the U.S., the person is judged for being crazy rather than recognized as a compassionate being who takes care of a fellow creature. Europeans put food and water out for street cats like they’re cardinals and chickadees in the backyard. Pavilion cats are part of the natural landscape and beauty. I’m so down for the European street cat culture, and if talking to cats on the streets makes me crazy, I’m cool with being labeled a nut (although speaking English to an Italian cat is pretty silly tbh).

If you’ve blown your cover at a cat sighting, don’t worry — you can recover your street cred… at least with the kitty. The first thing you do is stop and watch. Some cats want attention, and others don’t. If the cat is giving “Look at me! Look at me!” like a wannabe influencer thirsty for likes, then you extend a hand and let them sniff, requesting their consent. If they butt your hand with their head, give them noogies.  

When there aren’t cats to fawn over, I’m drawn in by the most random things. Street signs with funny images or words, beautiful doorways, and architectural details with fun colors or lines will all likely make me get my photographer on. 

Fawning over cats and taking pictures of mundane details do sort of scream, ‘I’m a foreigner!’ But I’m trying to enjoy the experience of a new destination and not approach it like I’m assessing hostile territory for security breaches (don’t tell my dad!). Appreciating the details of the city is part of that fun, which means photos. 

When traveling, a little attention to detail is all it takes to blend in, immersing yourself in the experience. Try these out on your next trip!