501 Places

I find the many customs and faux-pas relating to doing business in Asia so fascinating. How to eat, how to sit at a table, where to sit in a car (depending on seniority of other passengers), who to invite to a wedding: all have deeply enshrined traditions and rituals that are strictly followed by a particular ethnic group.

One set of advice in particular that stuck in my memory was related to giving gifts in China. There are two very distinct taboos. One is the clock. According to varying accounts, the phrase ‘giving a clock’ sounds similar to that of ‘attending a funeral’ or ‘wishing someone dead’ (my web research on this produced many similar but slightly different interpretations, all focussing on death). Apparently the way around this if you are determined to make a gift of a clock to your Chinese host is to sell it to him for a nominal amount, thereby avoiding the problem of ‘giving’ the clock.

Of more interest to me is the second no-no gift: the green hat. Ask any person of Chinese descent and they seem to immediately know the significance of the green hat. A person wearing a green hat is making a statement that their partner is unfaithful to them. Giving this as a gift is clearly not going to go down very well. One account describes how the late Deng Xiaoping visited a manufacturing plant in Texas and was presented with a local baseball cap which was, you’ve guessed it, green. Unsurprisingly, he chose not to wear it.

What are the origins of this taboo? The phrase ‘wearing a green hat’ apparently sounds similar to the word for cuckold (man with adulterous wife). The symbol dates back many centuries, and in the past the families of prostitutes were forced to wear green hats as a mark of shame.

There are clearly many misunderstandings that could be created with a green hat (I would suspect that the green hat might be a popular prop in Chinese TV comedy and theatre). It also makes me wonder: can you actually buy a green hat in China? I mean, would there be a specific green hat shop where you would go to make the statement to a friend (or a partner)?

I will certainly check the colour of any hats I wear on my next visit to China. Thankfully I don’t ever remember giving anyone a hat as a gift, so I feel comfortable that I won’t be making this cultural faux-pas at least. But if you are thinking of buying a piece of headwear for a Chinese friend, it may be wise to check the colour of your gift before you make a grave mistake.

Plaza Islas Malvinas, Ushuaia

While hitchhiking around Europe in the 80s I met a German guy who pretended to be an Icelander, and even had the Iceland flag on his backpack. He was keen to  escape the negative perception he feared he would get as a German on the roads of France or Italy. (He also presumed that young ladies would be more curious about an Icelander and want to know more about his homeland, but that’s another story). He even told me how well his cover plot had evolved over the summer he’d spent on the road, and could now repeat a string of useful facts about his newly adopted nation.

I’ve met more than a few Americans who try to pass off as Canadians on their travels to avoid hostility (long before the Bush years), and I’ve met Canadians who proclaim their un-American identities as their first utterance, for fear of being mistaken for their southern neighbours. The maple leaf flag is used as the unspoken symbol to ward off evil.

There is an irony here, in that many Americans I’ve met have been humbled by the overwhelming hospitality they have received on their travels, ESPECIALLY in countries with whom their government has quarrels (I’m thinking particularly of Syria here, but I’m sure American readers can add their own experiences).

Last year we hired a driver to take us from Damascus to Beirut, and this articulate young Syrian shared with us his experiences of meeting people from around the world. When I asked him if he had many American visitors, he replied that they didn’t. “They don’t like Syrians; I don’t know why”. On the other hand I read on countless blogs written by Americans travellers who declare that they would like to go to the Middle East but feel it’s too dangerous, the implication being that they might be kidnapped or killed by terrorists.

Too often we fear that people will hold us, as tourists, responsible for the actions of our government. That we will be made to pay for the wrongs that people feel have been inflicted on their nations. But the reality is thankfully much more pragmatic.

From our experience people are intelligent enough to separate the consequences of a nation’s foreign policy from the welcome they give to an individual traveller from that country. We received nothing but warmth and kindness on our visit to Argentina, which coincided with the 25th anniversary of their conflict with the UK.

I might have some very strong disagreements with the policies of the UK governments, but I still feel priveleged to hold a British passport and would not choose to hide my identity on my travels. In fact, being open with others about our opinions on international politics has led to many memorable conversations along the way.

It might suit the US and UK governments not to have thousands of tourists visiting the countries with which they are in dispute. A open flow of tourism can, after all, lead to a mutual understanding and a certain interdependence over time.

For those visitors who would like to visit a part of the world where they worry about their national standing, I would say look around and find out what those who have actually been there are saying. It’s quite likely that you will be safe to go, you won’t need to adopt an alter ego, and you will be greeted with open arms.

Me and Diego

Almost everyone has a story of an accidental encounter with a famous person at some point in their life. An old school friend provoked great jealousy among our group of friends in declaring that he had spent many an evening at home alone with Kim Wilde, a legendary British pop singer of the early 80s. That he was only 6 at the time and she was his babysitter made little impact on the bragging rights that the story gave him.

Living in New York, everyone seemed to have a story about a celebrity that they chatted with in a line at the sandwich shop, or with whom they shared an apartment building. We also shared a building with a Yankees baseball star, but not knowing anything about the game I never took the time to identify him, much to the disdain of my work colleagues.

Our most notable encounter with the sporting elite occurred back in 1998 on a flight to Sri Lanka. We had opted to pay the extra to Air Lanka to upgrade for the 15 hour flight, and were pleasantly surprised to find the entire business class section empty as the boarding process was coming to an end.

It was at that point that the captain made an announcement. He reminded all the passengers that the previous day the Sri Lankan cricket team had made history by beating England at Lord’s, the home of English cricket, for the first time in their history. With that he invited all the passengers to give the team a warm welcome as they boarded the flight. And there we were, alone among the victorious Sri Lankan team and their partners.

We exchanged numerous conversations with the players in the course of the overnight flight, and in contrast to the likely antics of an England football team, the players were quiet, respectful and polite. As a cricket fan I was excited to see so many of those I’d previously paid to watch, and have remembered some of those little inconsequential exchanges we shared on our way to their homeland.

On arrival in Colombo the airport was thronged with local supporters waiting to greet their heroes, while we were able to slip away quickly and enjoy the start of our holiday.

Which famous people have you met on your travels, and did they live up to their public reputation?

Phnom Penh

We were being dragged around yet another Chinese craft workshop and saw a lady making a beautiful embroidered picture. When we stopped to admire her work the owner quickly switched to salesman mode and told us it could be packaged and sold to us for only $80. We had nowhere to pack this, no inclination to buy it, and more than that no spare $80 in our budget for an unexpected purchase like this. When the news was conveyed to the lady via our interpreter/guide, she looked despondent and said something along the lines of “I’m sorry you don’t like it”.

For many years I didn’t understand the significance of this episode. As two travelling youngsters we had explained to our guide that $80 was a lot of money for us; that we had a tight budget, and that we had scrimped and saved to be able to come all the way to China. When he asked about our earnings and his eyes lit up at our reply we were quick to point out the cost of our mortgage, the price of food, clothing, fuel, taxes etc. “We’re not rich” was our message. We might earn a lot by Chinese standards but the cost of living is so high at home that much of that money goes on basic unavoidable expenses.

In the 15 years since our trip to China I’ve seen many others make the same argument, playing down our wealth when visiting countries where the majority of people live hand to mouth and have no bank account or possibility of saving. It’s done with the best of intentions, usually to try and correct the perception of a local person of their infinite wealth.

But I realise that on the most simple level we did live in a completely different world to that woman in the Chinese workshop. She didn’t need to know anything about our income or living costs to make her mind up that we were incredibly rich. We were there, and that was enough!

On our recent travels in Laos and Cambodia, most of those we spoke to had never left their borders and had only travelled to another city in their country to sort out important administration. A trip overseas was out of the question for two reasons: one is money of course, but the other is the basic concept of leisure time. The idea of having five weeks paid annual leave (or even the American 10 days) is a true luxury and any time off in the week is usually spent on family business. A day out to the nearest river or beach is often a major treat.

So when we arrive, travelling through their country for no reason other than our own desire to be there, it is this freedom to travel that gives away our wealth before any thought of finances. The fact that, in the case of our visit to China, we were young twentysomethings, makes this assumption so much stronger.

So now, when we travel to the poorer parts of Asia or Africa we no longer protest our financial modesty. We accept that assumptions will be made, that our ability to travel around the world because we want to will mark us out as priveleged. Starting off with that mindset might even allow us to interact with people in a more honest and respectful manner as a result.

King's Brithday celebrations in Thailand

I’m watching the news from Bangkok with great sadness. I can’t begin to understand the politics and the troubled history behind the anger on the two sides of the dispute, and am not qualified to offer any opinion other than a wish for the fighting to stop quickly and a peaceful resolution to be found.

Inevitably though, seeing and reading the latest from Thailand takes my mind back only a few months to our visit in SE Asia. Although trouble was brewing already then and people we spoke to feared that something like this would happen, it was a very different Thailand and a very different Bangkok. By contrast we witnessed the happy celebrations of the King’s birthday; such very different scenes to the current chaos and violence.

I go back again to the same thought that keeps recurring on our travels: how can a nation that appears so content and peaceful to us, the visiting tourists, be at each others’ throats just over the horizon? We were in northern Uganda in 1993, when the LRA were just establishing their murderous presence there; in Peru a couple of years later, when there was still widespread fear of the Sendero Luminoso who had only recently lost their grip on much of the country; and again a little while later in Sri Lanka where tourists were kept well away from the bloody civil war that raged in the north. On each occasion we left enchanted by the warm welcomes we received, at the smiles, the laughter and the apparent contentment of the people.

How can we explain this contrast between nations that on one hand extend a warm welcome to visitors and on the other are busy tearing themselves apart? Maybe others have answers they would like to share; for me there are only questions. Are we just seeing a front when we encounter these smiling faces? A Thai person we met was quite amused at the ‘Land of Smiles’ label that is constantly applied to her country. She explained to us that the Asian culture and the spiritual beliefs of the peoples of SE Asia lead people to keep their troubles deeply internalised. There is little tolerance for moaning and griping about everyday ills, and while people may give an outward appearance of happiness, it is much to do with the pressure with the society to keep what is personal, personal.

Is is that as tourists, in a country for a week or a month, we just don’t get beneath the surface of a culture and its people enough to get beyond the superficial? The answer is probably yes, but maybe it’s a convenient deception. After all, given a choice of travelling to a place renowned for its happy smiles and warm welcomes, or one where the local people live in fear and deep suspicion of outsiders and one another, it’s obvious where most will choose to go. Do we just accept that we are only seeing a carefully crafted front when we visit a destination? And should this matter to us, passing through for a few days or weeks?

I hope Bangkok is peaceful again quickly, and the smiles once again replace the tanks and the guns. I’d rather see this great nation market itself again as the Land of Smiles; whatever lies underneath the surface of a welcome, the reality is that for a tourism market to boom, it is that first impression that is so important.