How to communicate when you don't speak the language

How to Communicate When You Don’t Speak the Language

One of the things that can make international travel intimidating—especially when you’re traveling alone—is the thought of arriving somewhere and realizing you can’t communicate.

What if you get lost? What if you need help? What if you order something and have absolutely no idea what you’re getting? What if someone is trying to tell you something important and you can’t understand a word?

I’ve been there.

I’ve traveled in countries where I didn’t speak the language, and I’ve learned that communication doesn’t always happen the way you expect it to. Sometimes technology saves you. Sometimes a few words and a lot of pointing get the job done. Sometimes patience is more useful than vocabulary.

And sometimes you just need to open your heart and be willing to try.

Poland Taught Me That “No” Doesn’t Mean You’re Stuck

Before I went to Japan, I traveled to Poland, where my nephew was playing soccer. That was one of my first real experiences navigating a place where I couldn’t depend on everyone around me speaking English.

I found that many of the younger Polish people I encountered knew at least some English, while communicating with some older people was more difficult. I also had to learn that the way people interact with strangers can be different from what I was accustomed to at home.

Some of my first interactions felt more reserved and direct than what I was used to in the United States. At first, I wasn’t quite sure how to interpret that. But as I spent more time there, I found Polish people to be incredibly kind.

That taught me an important lesson about international travel: don’t automatically mistake different for unfriendly.

The way people smile, greet strangers, make eye contact, answer questions or offer help may not look exactly like it does at home. We carry our own cultural expectations with us when we travel, whether we realize it or not.

One day in Poland, I was trying to get to my nephew’s practice site and couldn’t figure out how to get there. I approached some people and asked if they spoke English.

The answer was very simple.

“No.”

Well, okay then.

I still had to get to practice.

I had already learned that the rideshare services I was familiar with weren’t necessarily the most effective way to get around there, so I downloaded a local rideshare app. Between that app, my translation app and a healthy dose of patience, I figured it out.

And something happened while I was figuring it out.

I learned more about where I was. I learned more about how people got around. I learned more about the people themselves. And eventually, I got where I needed to go.

That experience stayed with me because it taught me something I would use again and again:

Not speaking the language doesn’t mean you’re helpless. It just means you may have to solve the problem differently than you would at home.

Then I Went to Japan—and Forgot the Japanese I Had Learned

Before traveling to Japan, I tried to prepare.

I started learning Japanese using Paul Noble’s audio lessons, and I was actually doing pretty well. I knew I wasn’t going to become fluent, but I wanted enough Japanese to communicate, be polite and show respect. I didn’t want to arrive in someone else’s country assuming everybody should accommodate me because I spoke English.

Then my health had other plans.

Shortly before the trip, I spent three days in the hospital with congestive heart failure. By the time I recovered enough to travel, much of the Japanese I had worked so hard to learn seemed to have disappeared from my brain.

And that made me nervous.

I was about to travel to a country where I thought almost nobody would speak English, and suddenly I couldn’t depend on the Japanese I’d spent all that time learning.

I went anyway.

And I was wrong about something important.

I encountered more English than I expected, particularly among younger people and in places accustomed to international visitors. Between the English people did speak, the Japanese I could remember, translation technology, gestures and an open mind, I communicated surprisingly well.

Not perfectly.

But well enough.

And that distinction matters.

You don’t need perfect communication to travel. You need enough tools—and enough willingness to keep trying—to figure things out.

If brain fog is one of the things making international travel feel intimidating, read Traveling with Brain Fog: What to Do When Your Brain Stops Cooperating. I’ve learned that having backup systems matters much more than expecting my brain to cooperate every minute of a trip.

How Do Two Naked Strangers Who Don’t Speak the Same Language Have a Conversation?

One of my favorite experiences happened while staying at Senkyoro, a traditional ryokan in Hakone.

A ryokan is a traditional Japanese inn, and staying in one was something I really wanted to experience. Hakone is known for its natural hot springs, and my room even had a stone tub where mineral water could be funneled directly inside.

But I wanted to experience the larger mineral bath.

Japanese bathing culture has traditions and etiquette, and this is one of those situations where researching the culture before you arrive matters. Clothing generally isn’t worn in the bathing area, and there are customs surrounding washing and entering the bath that visitors should understand.

So there I was, completely naked in a Japanese mineral bath.

As one does.

I had been soaking for quite a while and was getting ready to shower and leave when I encountered another woman. She was probably 15 or 20 years older than I was. At one point she showed me which products were shampoo, conditioner and body wash. I had already figured them out, but I bowed and thanked her for helping me.

That could easily have been the end of it.

Instead, we started trying to talk.

She spoke very little English.

I spoke even less Japanese.

And there was something particularly interesting about this conversation: I didn’t have my phone.

There was no translation app to rescue me. There was no phrasebook to consult. I couldn’t pull up a picture or type a sentence into my phone.

I didn’t even have clothes on, much less a pocket containing something that could help me communicate.

It was just the two of us.

Two human beings from different cultures, communicating in our most natural state.

We used the few words we knew. We pointed. We gestured. We watched each other’s faces. We laughed when we didn’t understand one another, and then we tried again.

And somehow, we had a conversation.

I learned that she had two daughters and three granddaughters. She was visiting from outside Tokyo. I managed to tell her that I was from the Seattle area and that I was traveling through Japan. I told her how much I loved Japan and how happy I was to be visiting her country.

By the time we were finished, we were laughing and hugging.

Think about that.

The language barrier was real. Our cultural differences were real. But neither one of us allowed those barriers to stop us from sharing something about ourselves.

I went into that bath without a single communication tool I normally depended on, and I came out having made a friend.

That’s what I remember most about her. Not that we couldn’t speak the same language, but that we wanted to understand each other enough to keep trying.

Sometimes you need technology. Sometimes you need preparation. Sometimes you need gestures, facial expressions and a good sense of humor.

And sometimes you just need to open your heart and be willing to try.

Want More Help Making Travel Fit Your Life?

If health, money, solo travel or just plain uncertainty keeps putting another obstacle between you and the trip you want to take, Join the Tribe.

The Single, Sick & Broke Traveler is about finding ways to travel that work for your body, your budget and your life—not somebody else’s idea of the perfect vacation.

When the Message Really Matters, Use the Tools You Have

During that same stay at the ryokan, I had another experience that taught me the other side of communicating across a language barrier.

A woman there took wonderful care of us. She brought our breakfast and dinner, cleaned and prepared the room and provided the kind of attentive service that made the experience incredibly special.

She had told us she would clean our room at 10:00.

While she was working, my friend went back into the room because she needed to talk to her husband on the phone.

Later, when we returned, the woman who had been taking care of us was in tears.

At first, I couldn’t understand why.

She apparently thought that because my friend had been in the room while she was cleaning, she had somehow failed to provide us with good service.

Nothing could have been further from the truth.

But this wasn’t something I wanted to communicate with a smile, a gesture or the handful of Japanese words I could remember.

This mattered.

I wanted her to understand me.

So I pulled out my translation app.

I explained that I do this kind of work myself. I know what it means to take care of people, and I wanted her to know that the service she had given us was some of the best service I had ever received.

She looked at me.

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Yes!”

Apparently some conversations are universal.

Over the two days we were there, we became friends. I even have a photograph of us together, and when I look at it, I remember much more than the beautiful room or the meals she served us.

I remember her.

That experience also changed the way I think about translation technology.

A translation app doesn’t have to put a screen between you and another person.

Sometimes technology makes the human connection possible.

The Royokan worker and me peace signing

And Sometimes You Just Get the Wrong Food

Of course, not every attempt I made to communicate in Japan turned into a heartwarming international friendship.

Sometimes I just got the wrong lunch.

One day I stopped at a street vendor because I wanted to try katsu, with its delicious crunchy breaded outside and meat inside. I wanted chicken.

I tried to explain what I wanted.

He didn’t understand me.

I tried again.

We went back and forth, and eventually the poor man appeared to lose patience with the whole situation.

As far as he was concerned, negotiations were apparently over.

I was getting another handheld food item.

It was beef.

Not what I ordered.

Not what I thought I was asking for.

But it was different. It was good.

And I ate it.

That’s another lesson I’ve learned about language barriers: sometimes you’re going to get it wrong.

You can research the culture. You can learn useful words. You can download translation apps. You can prepare yourself as much as possible—and you should.

But eventually, you’re probably going to misunderstand somebody.

Somebody is going to misunderstand you.

You may order the wrong food, pronounce something so badly that nobody knows what you’re saying or make a cultural mistake you didn’t realize you were making.

Don’t let the possibility of getting something wrong keep you home.

Be respectful. Apologize when you need to. Laugh at yourself when you can. Learn something and keep traveling.

And if what you accidentally ordered tastes good?

Eat it.

Learn Enough of the Language to Show You’re Trying

I still believe in learning some of the local language before you travel.

You don’t have to become fluent. Start with the words and phrases you’re actually going to use: hello, please, thank you, excuse me, I’m sorry, yes, no, bathroom and help. Learn how to ask whether someone speaks English or another language you understand.

And don’t be afraid to use those words because your pronunciation isn’t perfect.

One thing I’ve experienced again and again while traveling is that people often appreciate the fact that you’re trying to speak their language. You may pronounce something incorrectly. Someone may smile at your attempt. But I’ve often found that instead of making me feel foolish, people have helped me—sometimes correcting the word or helping me figure out what I was trying to say.

That’s very different from arriving in another country and expecting everyone else to speak English for you.

Even learning a few words says, I’m a visitor here, and I’m willing to make an effort.

If you have food allergies or dietary restrictions, learn the phrases you’re most likely to need. If you have a chronic illness, think about the words you might need if you become sick. Your useful vocabulary may look completely different from somebody else’s.

The point isn’t to impress anyone with your pronunciation.

The point is to try.

Prepare Your Translation Tools Before You Need Them

Translation apps can make international travel much easier, but don’t wait until you’re standing on a street corner, exhausted and lost, to learn how yours works.

Set it up before the trip.

If the app you’re using offers offline language downloads, download what you need before leaving home. Internet service can disappear at precisely the moment you need it most.

Save the name and address of your accommodations in the local language. Take a screenshot so you can show it to someone even if you can’t pronounce it. Do the same for important destinations.

If you’re using public transportation or local rideshare services, research them before you arrive. My experience in Poland taught me that the app or service I normally used at home wasn’t necessarily going to be the one that worked best somewhere else.

Your phone is a fantastic tool.

It shouldn’t be your only plan.

That kind of preparation is particularly important when you’re traveling alone. Solo Travel—Safety on the Road has more of the practical backup planning I use to make sure being by myself doesn’t mean being without options.

Give Yourself a Backup for Brain Fog

If you deal with brain fog, you already know the frustration of knowing something but suddenly being unable to retrieve it.

Now imagine that happening when you’re tired, jet-lagged and standing in a train station in another country.

Don’t make your trip depend entirely on your memory.

Keep screenshots. Save addresses. Carry important information in writing. Make sure you can access essential travel information offline.

And if you travel with a chronic illness, have important medical information available in a form you can access even when you’re tired, sick or unable to explain everything clearly.

That’s also why I’m such a believer in planning around the body and brain you actually have rather than the traveler you think you’re supposed to be. How to Plan a Trip When Your Energy Is Unpredictable can help you build those backups into the trip before you ever leave home.

A brain-fog day doesn’t have to become a travel disaster if you’ve already given yourself another way to get the information you need.

Learn the Culture—but Accept That You’ll Still Make Mistakes

Learning a few words is only part of preparing for another country. Understanding the customs you’re walking into matters too.

I talk much more about this in Learn the Culture—and Accept That You’ll Still Make Mistakes, because respecting another culture doesn’t require you to know everything before you arrive. It requires you to pay attention, be willing to learn and own your mistakes when you make them.

What’s considered polite? How do people normally greet one another? What behavior is expected at religious sites? What are the customs surrounding restaurants, tipping, public transportation, clothing, shoes, personal space or bathing?

But remember what Poland taught me.

Different isn’t necessarily unfriendly.

We interpret other people’s behavior through our own cultural expectations. Someone who seems unusually reserved to you may be perfectly warm and polite by the standards of their culture.

And remember what the beef in Japan taught me.

You can do your homework and still get something wrong.

The goal isn’t cultural perfection.

The goal is cultural respect.

Pay attention. Be curious. Don’t assume your way is the normal way simply because it’s what you’re accustomed to. If you make a mistake, apologize when appropriate, learn from it and move forward.

Don’t Be Afraid to Look a Little Silly

This might be one of the most useful pieces of advice I can give anyone worried about a language barrier.

You have to be willing to look a little silly.

You may point. You may play charades with a complete stranger. You may pronounce a word horribly. You may type something into a translation app and get a translation that makes absolutely no sense.

You may both start laughing.

That’s okay.

Being embarrassed for thirty seconds is better than pretending you understand something when you don’t.

And sometimes that awkward attempt at communication becomes one of the experiences you remember most.

Make Yourself a Language-Barrier Backup Plan

Before you leave for an international trip, ask yourself a few questions.

Do I know how I’ll translate something when I don’t understand? Can I use my translation tools without internet access? Do I have my hotel or accommodations written in the local language? Can I access my itinerary offline?

Do I know which transportation and rideshare services actually work where I’m going? Do I have important medical and emergency information available? Do I know a handful of useful and polite words? Have I learned some basic cultural etiquette?

And if I’m traveling alone, does someone at home know where I’m supposed to be?

You don’t need a perfect system.

You need enough backup plans that one forgotten word, dead phone, misunderstanding or brain-fog moment doesn’t leave you without options.

Don’t Let a Language Barrier Become the Reason You Stay Home

Before Japan, I was nervous.

I had spent time learning Japanese, gotten sick and forgotten much of what I had learned. I was heading to a country where I thought almost nobody would speak English.

I could have decided I wasn’t prepared enough.

I went anyway.

And I’m so glad I did.

Poland taught me that “no” didn’t mean I was stuck.

Japan taught me that a translation app could help me tell someone something that mattered deeply.

A street vendor taught me that occasionally you’re just going to get beef when you wanted chicken.

And a woman I met in a mineral bath taught me perhaps the biggest lesson of all.

We had no phones. No translation app. Very few shared words. We came from different countries, different cultures and different lives.

We were simply two human beings, in our most natural state, trying to understand each other.

And we did.

That’s what I hope you remember if fear of a language barrier is keeping you from going somewhere you’ve dreamed about.

Learn what you can.

Prepare for what you can’t.

Use the technology available to you. Respect the culture you’re entering. Accept that you’re going to make mistakes. Laugh when you can. Keep trying when something matters.

And don’t become so afraid of saying the wrong thing that you miss the opportunity to connect with someone at all.

Because somewhere on the other side of that language barrier may be a person you’ll remember for the rest of your life.

Sometimes you just need to open your heart and be willing to try.

Ready to Make Travel Fit Your Life?

You don’t need perfect health, an unlimited budget, a travel companion—or fluency in another language—to start figuring out what travel can look like for you.

Join the Tribe for practical travel help for solo travelers, people with chronic illness, caregivers and anyone trying to see more of the world without pretending real-life limitations don’t exist.

YES! I WANT TO JOIN THE TRIBE

Get there your way.

The Single, Sick & Broke Traveler

Travel stories for the brave and budget-conscious.

Contact Me!

nessa@singlesickbroketraveler.com

© 2025. All rights reserved.