Fantastic faux pas
Posted Sunday, February 24, 2008, 2:27 PM by Lonely Planet
Lonely Planet took an early-morning turn on the BBC Breakfast sofa, talking about those unwitting cultural boo-boos we all make during our travels.
This story was in response to an article in the latest edition of Holiday Which? passing on tips about what not to do with chopsticks, how to avoid making rude hand gestures in Brazil and where not to write in red ink. The people of Britain should now know when not to flush the toilet in Italy and how to avoid being the only man in the women-only carriage on a Cairo metro train.
We'd love to hear if your stories of cultural misunderstandings. We find there's nothing like good intentions going astray to make a day memorable.
Tom Hall
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My exhusband and I were on our honeymoon in Italy (obviously he wasn't an exhusband at the time) and we had an arranged to rent a 1,000 year old stone house in the hills of Tuscany, from a California couple. They had sent us some information before we left for Italy and in the envelope was a letter in Italian we were suppose to take to a special restaurant where the owners knew this California couple. The restaurant owner was to treat us like rock stars and give us an "authentic" Italian multi-course meal. We finally found the restaurant (having left the instructions back in the States as well). They spoke no English, we spoke no Italian but decided we must be in the right place. They motioned for us to sit down and started bringing out food. I was a bit confused and started to get frightened that there was no menu for us to pick from. A large platter of raw meat came out, I guess it was Prosciutto (raw ham!). It was still bleeding and I was sure I heard a pig snort! But, we didn't want to offend so we ate what we could, my husband had a way of rearranging the food on the plate to look as if we had eaten more. A plate full of spinach raniolo came out. Did I mention I am the pickiest eater alive? Think 5 year old taste, pb & j, pepperoni pizza. I choked down a few of these and then it came! A large platter with raw chicken and raw steaks. I winced in agony. Were they seriously going to make us eat this raw food? I guess so, since they already watched us gag on Proscuitto. Finally, with a tear in my eye, I pointed to the steak, since all I could think of was .... raw chicken.. salmonella, raw chicken, salmonella. I racked my brain for "ketchup" in Italian thinking this would somehow save the day. But, to my surprise they returned not with bleeding steak but with beautiful, dark brown completely dead STEAK! I didn't have to rearrange this plate of food.
I let out a sigh and grazie before we posed with the owners for a picture for our friends that had arranged this meal.
I now know the word "cuocere" ... to cook in Italian.
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