Mobile Trophies – My First Steps as a Foreigner & 10 Essentials for Traveling to a New Country

Stepping into the unknown is more than an exercise in novelty. It is to become foreign to those all around you while everything around you becomes foreign to you. It is being the unappointed ambassador to answer 52 questions about your country’s politics, being recorded by locals because of your hair and eye color, or the struggle of realizing you don’t have the quadricep strength to use a squat toilet. Any attempt to articulate just how profound an impact this has without first experiencing it feels futile. But among the travelers, the immigrants, the ivrim, there is an understanding of what it is to not be understood and thus, a culture of their own. This is the story of my induction into that culture, and as others did for me, my sharing of a 10 point checklist for what to know when first traveling to a new country.

A foreign country is not designed to make you comfortable. It is designed to make its own people comfortable.
– Clifton Paul Fadiman

The elevator doors opened to my first foray into hostel living and my first day in a foreign country…ever. After traveling nearly a day and a half from my home town to Auckland, New Zealand, faith met reality. Stepping out, I was welcomed by what felt more like a high school hang out than paid accommodation. A pool table and lounge to my right, funky 60’s furniture to my left, I listened to a variety of accents indicating that my fellow travelers hailed from all over the world – cool!

Despite their obvious differences, the travelers’ clothing carried a common thread: light-weight, well-worn trekking gear with pockets, zippers, and unique trinkets that hung from their clothes like mobile trophies from conquered countries. There was a humility and openness that begged to come talk and share. Fashion was out, practicality in. These seemed like my people. However, lugging three oversized bags didn’t make me feel like I fit the “humility” criteria, and my only “mobile trophies” were well-worn hand-me downs.

Maybe if I kept quiet, no one would notice I had no clue what I was doing. Up an elevator and down winding hallways I found my room – a 6-bunk bedroom. Oh, so this is “communal,” I thought. As an introvert who likes privacy, this was definitely God “shaping my character.” My paranoia kicked in: figure out how to lock up my suitcases without waking anyone. This meant two things a) I was going to have to lug all my stuff back downstairs and b) I was going to have to ask questions.

Back downstairs, I purchased a $5 padlock and decided to eat while waiting for roommates to wake up. Perusing the open breakfast, I spotted a jar of brown stuff I’d never seen – “Marmite.” Curious, I spread it on toast and grabbed some unfamiliar cereal. One bite convinced me the brown paste wasn’t suitable for human consumption. The cereal was impossibly thick, these people must have super jaws. (I’d later learn this cereal, trail mix, mutant of a meal was muesli, not meant to be eaten that way.)

Following my attempt at breakfast, I was stunned back at my room as my now awake roommates nonchalantly described their solo backpacking travels through Southeast Asia. After they left, I prayed a prayer of repentance for my own cowardice in light of my roomies’ travels…and sorted my stuff for the umpteenth time including an hour jamming too much into the tiny under bed locker.

With a 20-pound backpack of “essentials,” I explored Auckland’s streets – built on 70 volcanic cones, New Zealand is home to the world’s steepest streets. Amazing weather and my amazement at skyscrapers against an ocean backdrop distracted from the obvious workout and jet lag.

As evening approached, I made my way to a social gathering hosted by the travel company that oriented me. A trendy blonde greeted me.

“Are you a backpacker?” Having only learned the term hours earlier, it suddenly hit me – I had become one.

“Yes,” I replied. She introduced me to Joe Sweet, a shorter, brown-skinned man with a buzz cut, thick-rimmed glasses, and one of the biggest, most genuine smiles. From Chicago, Joe was an avid traveler and wealth of information, willing to break someone into backpacker life. Realizing I hadn’t moved past jet lag, his unrelenting generosity took over. He gave me the rundown on navigating banks, SIM cards, transportation, and finding adventure.

We were joined by a “gang” of backpackers from Britain, Canada, and Germany – an amazingly welcoming group. We shared nothing in common except being foreigners with different stories, tight budgets, and uncertain futures. But we were all travelers, and that was enough. I silently absorbed everything.

When my body could no longer concede to curiosity, Joe gave me his contact information and an open offer for help. Returning to the hostel, I found an empty room – my roomies gone. My introverted-self rejoiced. Exhausted, I collapsed into sleep.

The next morning, I awoke without an alarm. Sun cracked through thick maroon curtains. I laid there patting the blankets – yes, this was real. Extreme exhilaration and extreme loneliness balanced into nothing at all. When I don’t know what to do with the future, I do things I know to do. Today, I really needed a shower.

This became another reminder I wasn’t in Wisconsin anymore. After a contortionist balancing act keeping my stuff dry on one small hook while not touching the floor for fear of athlete’s foot, my shower abruptly ended after 5 minutes. Not a sick joke – just environmentalist alarmism and hostel owners not wanting to pay the water bill.

Similar events became regular occurrences throughout my first week. God is faithful – I kept that room to myself for days. Joe’s advice proved handy as I set up basics, including spending significant time printing a resume only to discover New Zealand uses different size paper.

The hostel provided a great way to meet fellow travelers. My shy-self struggled, but persistently reached out. I needed to. Traveling is a lifestyle I didn’t realize existed. I had to learn an entire new way to learn, and my only teachers were the same scruffy wanderers that helped add “character” to the hostel furniture. Through them I learned of a day trip to Piha – less than an hour away with a waterfall. I’d barely ever seen a waterfall, so I signed up.

Friday, I found myself on a bus with about 50 backpackers from all over the western world. Our burly guide rattled off instructions through a super thick accent. The curly-haired Israeli guy next to me leaned over

“Could you please tell me what he said? I’m just learning English.”

“Friend,” I responded, “I’ve been speaking English all my life and I still don’t know what he said.” In that moment I realized, I don’t speak English, I speak American.

At the trailhead, I met the most stereotypical Irishman.

“Hi there,” he stated confidently. “I’m Aaron. What’s yer name?”

“Nicole.”

“An American! Did you vote fer Obama?” Politics? A wildly bold conversation starter! “Not many Americans travel, and the only ones who do are liberals. So, you must have voted fer Obama.” I decided to keep my political views to myself.

“How did you know I was American?”

“By yer accent. I lived in Canada fer ab-boat a year. That’s where I got this.” His hand slid to the green shamrock hanging around his neck. Using tremendous restraint, I refrained from laughing at the irony of an Irishman with a shamrock from Canada. Aaron took it upon himself to become my guide.

Our group took off into the New Zealand bush – rainforest much different from tropical ones. The rugged dirt path wound around trees and rocks, joining alongside a babbling creek. Moss-covered trees twisted and knotted with different leaves and ferns carpeting the forest floor. My thoughts were broken by Aaron’s voice escalating.

“Ireland will nev-r be part of the United Kingdom!”

“You’re one to speak. You’ve got two passports,” responded a dark-haired English girl.

“Wait,” I interrupted, “Why do you have two passports?” Little did I realize the mess I’d stepped in. Aaron was livid. “Besides, is there really a difference between England, Britain, and the United Kingdom?” My curiosity was unrelenting. The English girl explained.

“Britain is the island. England, Wales, and Scotland are countries within Britain. Northern Ireland, where Aaron’s from, joins with Britain to form the United Kingdom. Southern Ireland refuses.”

“So, you’re still fighting over potatoes?” I questioned.

“Just potatoes! They starved Ireland out.” I could see that while Aaron discussed Obama freely, potatoes was too touchy.

Our hike took less than an hour before trees opened to where our stream met a beautiful waterfall – roughly 20 feet wide, descending 10-15 stories alongside the mountain. Like a hidden room opening to sun. The Māori believed the water had healing properties – water passing through miles of volcanic rock filled with medicinal minerals.

It was deep, cold, and I can barely swim, but I decided I could make that distance. Aaron and high-energy guys led the pack jumping in. I found the swim easy, taking refuge in a tiny cavern behind the waterfall, giggling as we watched others wuss out from cold. An amazing moment of freedom I’d never had before. Climbing out, my entire body tingled – really from the minerals. Grabbing a towel, I felt my now extremely soft skin.

We continued to Piha. The bus climbed a tight precipice before opening to gorgeous expanse – rolling coastline for miles as mountains descended into ocean, colliding with black sand beaches. Rugged and untouched with little human habitation. Lion’s Rock, Piha’s iconic symbol (literally a large rock looking like a lion), sat center beach. My heart leaped with joy.

We bounded like excited children from the bus, skipping and playing in pounding surf. None swam – Piha was known for dangerous rip tides, final resting place for overconfident surfers. The black volcanic sand had the finest granules I’d ever seen, sparkling like scattered diamonds; coolest part: it’s magnetic.

That evening back at the hostel, I joined new Swedish roommates – all bleach blonde hair, bright blue eyes – for cards. After my Piha trip, I felt braver, more confident. I took the end of my ‘private room’ as a gentle nudge, it was time to leave the hostel.

Before we progress to the next adventure, I wanted to share some hard-found revelations about traveling to new countries. Having entered 30+ countries, I’ve learned traveling isn’t for the faint of heart. Being a foreigner requires knowledge, skill, and…well…work. Here’s a guide of 10 essential things to research when traveling to a new country.

Your adventure may end before it begins if you get stuck at immigration.

• Secure proper visas – most fall into 4 categories: tourist*, temporary work, permanent residency, special status (ambassador, missionary, etc.).
• Be aware, depending on your destination, passport, and purpose, you may need to apply months in advance.
• Question everything – immigration scams are super common. For US citizens, the Department of State can help when information isn’t outdated or incomplete. Yes, I learned both the hard way.

Don’t assume you’ll get quality in-country care. Just because the guy next to you doesn’t need insurance doesn’t mean you don’t.

• Get coverage for your unique situation and travel length.
• Be aware, some activities like rock climbing, scuba diving, mountaineering, and automobile liability often require additional riders.
• Obtain emergency evacuation insurance—it really happens, and most travel policies include it.

Drug trafficking is serious business, don’t get mixed up in it.

• Bring enough of anything you have a unique or sensitive need for such as prescriptions, supplements, hygiene needs, etc. Options are often limited and hard to find.
• Clearly label anything that looks like a drug and have paper copies of supporting documentation such as prescriptions.
• Pack a mini first aid kit — there’s nothing like being sick at 11 PM unable to find ibuprofen.

International travel will make you so much better at economics.

• Tell your bank where you’re going or you will be declined
• Know card foreign transaction fees and if your card will even be accepted.
• Bring at least two money sources – think, theft, loss, tech issues.
• Understand exchange rates and their travel cost impact.
• Keep local currency handy at minimum for emergencies—few places are as plastic-dependent as the US. Besides, it’s fun seeing all the monopoly money.

More than convenience, getting the right information can be a matter of safety. 

• Print everything – The world is still largely unconnected. Whether power outages, service issues, odd night hours travel, practice living without your phone. Learn to talk to strangers, ask the right questions, and leverage navigation signals around you. Print tickets, reservations, passport copies, etc. A single sheet can save hours and anxiety at 2 AM with soldiers at sketchy 3rd world security where you have no internet.
• Phones – The above notwithstanding, research SIM cards, locked vs. unlocked phones, carrier options.
• Internet – Learn proper web security. Don’t skip anti-virus, consider VPNs, understand how IP jumping may trigger email security locks. Nothing like being locked out of your email for 30 days to “protect you.”
• Be prepared to pay for data – sometimes by the Gigabyte. Understand what you need – text, audio, video, etc. – and the connection and data needed to support it.

Foreign countries aren’t subject to your government.

• Secure an international driver’s license before leaving. It won’t teach you to drive on the opposite side or read foreign street signs, but allows you to figure it out.
• Research liability insurance for yourself, collision, and the “other guy.”

Often the riskiest part of your travels.

• Know taxi scam avoidance. Nothing’s more dangerous for solo travelers than getting into an unknown vehicle with a stranger to take you and all your belongings to destination you don’t know. Ridesharing apps, while generally safer, are not always possible. Most governments are aware these dangers have formal policies for protecting tourists.
• Understand how to use and the rules of public transportation should you choose to brave it. You are often fully exposed and easy to recognize as foreigner. Practice situational awareness and ensure you know how to navigate using the signs and maps even if they are in a foreign language.

Nothing like travel dilemmas from time confusion.

• Know all time zones you’ll travel to/through.
• Be aware daylight savings happens globally at different times, with clocks going different directions between hemispheres.
• Research tips for mitigating jet lag.

Because no one travels to get mugged…or worse.

• Respect no-go zones. If they warn tourists, there’s a reason.
• When in doubt ask. The front desk, taxi drivers, seasoned travelers, and locals can provide area insights.
• Don’t do drugs—including pot. Just don’t. Many countries take this seriously. Offers are likely police traps. Same for prostitution and illegal activities
• Know where you’ll be at sunset—curiosity is best entertained in daylight.

You don’t need encyclopedic knowledge, but locals’ perceptions are influenced by history and current events.

• Study high-level country history.
• Know political relations between your homeland and destination, especially recent events.
• Don’t assume locals’ opinions—people aren’t their country

You may have noticed I didn’t list language, customs, or culture shock because learning these takes months…years. It’s more than memorizing “Where’s the bathroom?” While locals appreciate efforts, the toddler pee-pee dance translates universally. The skills above ensure you can care for yourself without burdening locals you hope to connect with. As for culture shock it is inevitable— as it doesn’t teach you about their culture, it teaches you about yours. For that reason, I’m saving that topic for my next post.