After you’ve been in a foreign country for long enough, hearing English is a bit jarring. Even in large crowds, the English voices seem to stand out, and it’s hard not to overhear. Sometimes, a shared language is a great starting point to make friends with a fellow traveler, and if you overhear them sounding interesting, I would encourage you to do just that. Other times, you hear lame tourist shit like this:

1. “I want to see the REAL America/Thailand/Peru”

First, it’s all real. Second, no, you probably actually don’t, because real life is mundane beyond belief.  You don’t travel in order to experience other people’s menial jobs and hang out at their strip-malls and watch them take their kids to school. You really want a tourist experience, but without all the other tourists, don’t you? Well get in line.

2.  ”People who don’t travel aren’t experiencing life”

This statement is about as obnoxious as people who claim that those who don’t have children aren’t experiencing life, or that those who travel are running away from life. There are many, many life experiences, and you’re not getting all of them. I’ve never herded sheep, taken a prolonged vow of silence, built a boat, or lived in a redwood tree, though I’m sure there are people out there who find these to be life-affirming and essential experiences (and really, save for the vow of silence, they all sound pretty awesome to me). People who don’t travel are still experiencing life – they’re experiencing their own lives, on their own terms. It is not your place to tell them that the path you’ve chosen is more valid than the path they’ve chosen, even if you do feel the need to defend your strange nomadic lifestyle.

3. “Wow, this amazing experience I’m having right now really reminds me of <other country>, except it was ten times better and crazier” or “This amazing experience will make a great blog post/facebook post.”

It is hard to always live in the moment, but being in the moment is the only way to get the most out of travel. We’re guilty of these kind of thoughts, as is every traveler, but they still grate every time we hear them from someone else. Comparing someone else’s biggest tree ever with that time you went to the redwoods is a good way to devalue their experience and take the magic out of their memories. Only a jerk would want to do something like that.

4. [Insert broad, sweeping, usually BS generalization here]

I’ve had actual people tell me that you can find vending machines selling used panties on every street corner in Japan (false), that Italian men are all rapists because their culture doesn’t allow for women to say “no” (false), and that Scandinavians are fleeing their home countries en masse because Sharia Law is taking over in Denmark, Sweden, and Norway (false). To be fair, this is more frequently done by people who have not visited Japan, Italy, or Scandinavia, because anyone who has will immediately see how ludicrous these statements are. But sometimes people want to seem really knowledgeable so they run their mouths off in the hopes of impressing people. Don’t be one of those people!

5. “I like to travel like a local, not a tourist”

Usually uttered by people who who have no idea how to speak the local language and no interest in eating the local specialties. These are probably the loudest, most self-involved people you meet on the road. If they’re American, you’ll probably find them criticizing other Americans vociferously (actually, you’ll probably find them doing that regardless of their nationality).

6. “Ugh, WHY DON’T YOU SPEAK ENGLISH?”

The gross assumptions that come into play when tourists visit a foreign land and expect everyone to speak their language deserve an entire separate blog post, but for now, we’ll just tack it on here. It’s always really embarrassing for me when I meet other travelers complaining about locals who don’t speak English. It is not your place to determine which language they should speak and, as you are on their turf, show them just a little bit of respect. You don’t have to learn their language, but be humble, for goodness’ sake.

I am pretty safe and pretty careful while traveling, but somehow I can’t seem to avoid parasites. I’m a woman traveling alone, so I never walk by myself at night, I avoid creepy strangers, and I never travel without telling someone my whereabouts. Being careful is enough to avoid the big dangers. I just wish I could figure out how to escape the small dangers. (Never walk by myself through sewers, avoid creepy mosquito, never eat raw meat without telling someone my whereabouts?) Maybe it’s all the strange food I eat?

Just a fewhttps://dirtyvagrant.com/strange-foods/ weeks ago I got worms. Yuck, right? But the worms weren’t the worst part. The worst part was how I discovered I had them in the first place (please don’t press me for details – I’m still traumatized). I won’t even get into the time I acquired Hepatitis abroad, except to say that it wasn’t the kind that sticks with you forever (phew!), just the kind you get from unwittingly eating an infected person’s poop. No big deal. And then there was that time I got malaria, despite taking all conceivable (and a bunch of inconceivable) measures to avoid it. Again the malaria wasn’t the worst part, it was the fact that I was stuck living with a man named Bongo who insisted on washing my underwear and thought I should really sleep in his bed, for, ummm, my safety? Perhaps this is why I prefer to travel in the colder parts of the world.

1. Don’t be afraid to insist on seeing a doctor. I have hypochondria, certainly. Everyone knows that, so it is hard to be taken seriously. But when I finally insisted that I get to the doctor, it wasn’t just malaria, it was falciparum, the worse form of malaria. So even though your instincts are probably a little crazy because they are always telling you HOLY CRAP YOU ARE DYING, recognize that they can still be right sometimes. My motto: Just because I’m a hypochondriac doesn’t mean I can’t still get the bubonic plague. It hasn’t failed me yet.

2. Take the usual precautions. I hate wearing DEET, so I got some semi-permanent stuff to spray on my clothes and sleeping net. It didn’t work great, but it worked pretty well. I also used some barbecue-scented Swedish pine tar, which works nearly as well as DEET but makes you smell like a grilled hamburger forever. Of course, you can’t really beat DEET. Anti-malaria pills really do work, even if they have some crazy side effects. (Side effects of long term use: hallucination. On the 6th month, when my friend started hearing his dog talk in Barry White’s voice, that was probably a sign to stop.) Quinine is a natural anti-malarial with an interesting history, but it has just as many side effects, if not more, ranging from erectile dysfunction to temporary deafness (and you’d need a lot more than is in tonic water). See a doctor who specializes in travel medicine before and after your trip. They will be able to give you great advice on the risks specific to your destination.

3. Don’t hug dirty strangers, or wear shoes/clothes that you find on the street without disinfecting thoroughly first. There is a species of lice that only lives on clothing. Also, scabies! And bed bugs! And fungus, oh my!

Once upon a time, I hiked through the rain forest to a beautiful tropical river. As I waded through the rocks and enjoyed the little fish exfoliating my legs, one of my flip-flops broke. I could not hike back through the rain forest in bare feet; soldier ants are vicious creatures. I despaired of ever getting home alive. Then, miraculously, a pair of flip-flops came floating down the river out of nowhere (I guess it wasn’t so unusual, the river wasn’t exactly pure). I thought, ‘these must be clean, they’ve been washed in the river for who knows how long!’ Mistake. Turns out foot fungus is really easy to get and really hard to get rid of in a warm wet tropical country. It took two month and a heavy course of systemic anti-fungal pills before the thing would leave me alone.

4. Speaking of shoes, always wear shoes! For worms, there are many routes of entry into a human, but the most common is through the feet. These worms can crawl anywhere within 6 feet of human feces, and keep in mind hiking trails are low on public toilets. They live in nearly every tropical country. On the other hand, a worm infection suppresses the immune system, which can cure asthma, allergies, diabetes, arthritis, IBD, and MS. You win some, you lose some. (*do not construe this as medical advice! Eeeew!)

5. Water can be a problem in many places. You can splurge for the nice filter – or buy some inexpensive yet foul-tasting chlorine/iodine – but if you will mostly be drinking bottled water, you can get one of these inexpensive Life Straw in case of emergencies. You could drink water from a river, a lake, even a stagnant manure pond and still be fit as a fiddle with one of these.. If the water in your country of choice is OK but not great, go with one of these non-iodized filtering bottles. They are kind of difficult to suck water through, but it is worth the trouble if you don’t want to end up doubled over with stomach cramps.

But many places have an unjustly bad rap for their tap water. Find out if your destination does water testing or water treatment, you’d be surprised how many places have great tap water (often even better than the tap in the USA). Swimming and wading are questionable activities, find out if the body of water has been tested, and if the area is home to leaches (especially the dreaded Asian aquatic leach, who will swim into any orifice it can find). Salt water is usually safest.

6. Eat safe food. If you only eat things that are cooked, washed with purified water, or wrapped in thick skins, you will be fine. I never follow this rule, but I think if the rotten shark has been hanging in the open air for a six months without a single carrion bird touching it, it can’t be a good home for parasites either (or good food for me). Make sure your food is fully cooked, especially your pork. I just don’t eat pork when abroad. There are other meat options (you could even go veggie), and I don’t fancy getting a tapeworm–if its babies swim to your brain, they may cause serious permanent damage up there.

7. Don’t get an STD! Practice safe sex like never before! I don’t care if condoms don’t feel as good! Don’t get gonorrhea!

8. Sometimes, no matter what you do, you still get sick. Before I got malaria, I took my pills religiously, I slathered myself in fowl chemical concoctions, I used a sleeping net, and I even peed in jars to avoid going outside at night. I did things only a crazily paranoid person would do, and I still fell deathly ill. Sometimes you have to make peace with the fact that you will get sick if you travel to a new and more sickly country, and your weak, sheltered body may react far worse than the bodies of locals. Sometimes you find yourself outside at night. Sometimes your flip-flop breaks mid-hike. Sometimes you can’t take malaria pills for the duration of your stay. Since pulling out all the stops in Africa, I’ve been to malarial countries and not taken pills at all with no problems. With parasites, sometimes no matter what you do or don’t do, it is mostly out of your hands, so enjoy your stay while you are there instead of knocking yourself out with worry.

9. If you do get sick…

For diarrhea or vomiting, drink a ton of water. If you can’t keep it down very well, take it in slow sips. Broth is even better, the salts keep your electrolytes balanced. Bonus points if you can find some yogurt, kefir, cultured sour cream, live kombucha, sauerkraut, or other beneficial probiotic product. Also, eat raw garlic and raw onions while traveling as much as you can bear: they have antiseptic properties that kill bad stuff, and prebiotic properties that boost growth of good stuff. If it is serious and you are becoming dizzy from dehydration, don’t be a fool, see a doctor. While we appreciate your readership, don’t take our advice in lieu of advice from an actual doctor.

For skin infections, coolness and dryness help, but nothing beats medicine. For the ladies, if you can’t get medicine for a yeast infection, garlic and yogurt can help (either as a preventative eaten over a long period or time, or for immediate relieve applied topically). The same is true for thrush.

For almost anything else, see a doctor for goodness sake.

Life on the road seems glamorous and romantic because those are the stories that make it back home with us. Sometimes traveling sort of sucks, though, and that’s okay. It’s good to keep a positive attitude and make the best of things, but you’re allowed to sometimes think that the Chinese food in China isn’t as good as the Chinese food you’re used to back home (but keep these thoughts to yourself). We all have a few shameful, not-so-glamorous secrets that come along with being a traveler. Here are a few of mine: 1. I have no idea how to plan for the long-term. None. All I want to spend my money on is travel. I’ve spent so much time on the road that I have absolutely no idea how to function when I don’t have a trip planned and I have no idea what I’ll do when I have to stop traveling. Also, those things that normal people learned how to do, like drive a car without smashing it into a ditch? Yeah I never learned how to do those things because I was traveling. That’s terrible. 2. I have gone many many days without washing my socks. We can all agree that you never need to wash pants. But socks? This is revolting. But that’s just how it goes sometimes. I know every trick in the book for making smelly things not smell so bad, and I don’t know whether to be proud or ashamed. 3. I don’t even want to talk about hygiene. Sometimes you just don’t have deodorant. Sometimes you also don’t have a shower. Sometimes you don’t have access to shower for a week. The worst is when you do have access to a shower but you can’t use it for whatever reason (can’t pack a wet towel, host is touchy about water usage, lack of privacy–the shower is built into the kitchen, or you would be dirtier after being in a shower that filthy). I don’t want to talk about dental hygiene except to say that I brush my teeth consistently–except when I leave my toothbrush behind. Unfortunately my toothbrush is my most frequently forgotten item. 4. Depending on a variety of factors (price, availability, pack weight, my hunger) I have spent long stretches eating only things you shouldn’t eat for long stretches. This includes four days eating only croissants and cookies, only ramen for two weeks, only food from dumpsters and gardens for one week. Our dear friend went almost a week on an all liquid diet while on the road in Denmark: only beer. Yum. 5. If a country doesn’t speak English, I get too embarrassed at my accent and lack of linguistic skills to speak at all. This is most troubling when I try to pass myself off as a native. Obviously nobody is fooled if I open my mouth, so I just do not say anything. I can’t tell you how many embarrassing encounters I’ve had with European cashiers when I think I’ll get by just by nodding and handing them big bills/making a furtive glance at the register to see how much I owe, only to be foiled when they ask if I want a bag or something equally unimportant. NO I NEVER WANT A BAG I JUST WANT TO NOT LOOK LIKE AN IDIOT. Please. For once, give me that small respite. 6. There are some adventures I’m far too chicken for. I like to brag a lot about all the crazy things I’m willing to do, so here’s a list of opportunities I passed on: biking Death Road in Bolivia, eating fugu in Japan, and bungee jumping in New Zealand (or anywhere on the planet). I will never bungee jump. Never. And for all the sexual innuendos I make, I don’t really hook up with strangers. Syphillis isn’t a joke, and neither is my hypochondria. 7. There’s this one dog I love more than anything on the planet.Sometimes this sweet sweet dog makes me never want to travel again. I frequently curse all legal, financial, and practical barriers that prevent me from taking her with me everywhere I go.