5 phrases in the local language that turn you from tourist to traveler

Three years ago, I stood in a small market in Lisbon, pointing desperately at bread and holding up fingers to indicate quantity. The woman behind the counter smiled politely, but the entire interaction felt like charades. I walked away with what I needed, sure, but also with that familiar tourist frustration of being utterly disconnected from the place I was visiting.

Here's what I've learned since then: you don't need to be fluent. You don't even need to be conversational. But learning just a handful of phrases in the local language can completely transform how you experience a new country.

The difference between fumbling through hand gestures and connecting with someone in their own language, however basic your attempt, is massive. It shifts you from observer to participant. And honestly? It takes less time than you'd think.

1) "Hello" and "thank you"

Start here. Always start here.

These two phrases are the bare minimum of respect you can show when visiting someone else's home, which is essentially what you're doing when you travel. Learning the local language helps you connect with native people and creates opportunities for genuine cultural exchange, and it starts with these fundamental courtesies.

I used to think saying "hello" in English was fine because everyone knows it. But the first time I greeted someone in Thai during a trip to Bangkok, I watched their entire face light up. The interaction went from transactional to warm in an instant.

"Thank you" carries the same weight, maybe more. It's an acknowledgment that someone has helped you, served you, or simply existed in a shared space with you. In every language I've attempted, even badly pronounced thank yous have been met with smiles.

The effort matters more than the execution. People appreciate when you try, even if your pronunciation is terrible. Which mine usually is.

2) "Where is the bathroom?"

Look, this one is pure practicality.

You're going to need a bathroom at some point, probably at the worst possible moment, and pointing at your stomach while looking panicked is nobody's finest travel moment. Trust me on this.

Every country I've visited, this phrase has saved me from awkward miming situations. It's also usually one of the easier phrases to learn because, let's be real, it's universally needed. Most language apps and phrasebooks put it front and center for good reason.

The beauty of learning this phrase is that bathroom locations often lead to other helpful information. Once someone points you in the right direction, you've opened a micro-conversation. Sometimes they'll offer additional directions, sometimes they'll practice their English with you, sometimes you'll end up with a restaurant recommendation.

All because you asked where the bathroom was in their language instead of yours.

3) "How much does this cost?"

Money conversations are where language barriers get expensive.

Without this phrase, you're at the mercy of whatever number appears on a screen or gets shouted at you. With it, you can at least begin a negotiation, understand the pricing structure, or simply confirm you're not being overcharged as an obvious tourist.

I learned this the hard way at a street market in Mexico City. I'd been pointing and nodding, assuming prices were fair because I didn't know how to ask. My partner, who speaks Spanish, later told me I'd been paying roughly double for everything. Not because vendors were malicious, but because I couldn't engage in the basic back-and-forth that happens in markets everywhere.

Knowing basic phrases in the local language enables you to confidently negotiate prices at markets and navigate everyday transactions. It's not just about saving money, though that's nice. It's about participating in the local economy the way locals do.

Plus, the moment you demonstrate you can discuss price in the local language, the entire dynamic shifts. You're no longer just a wallet with legs.

4) "I don't eat meat" or your dietary restriction

As someone who's been vegan for eight years now, I cannot stress this enough.

Every country has different food norms, different ingredients, different assumptions about what constitutes a meal. In some places, "vegetarian" means fish is fine. In others, chicken broth doesn't count as meat. Without the language to clearly state your dietary needs, you're either going hungry or accidentally eating something you'd rather not.

I've mentioned this before but when I first started traveling as a vegan, I relied entirely on English and hand gestures. The result? A lot of confused servers, a lot of plain rice, and one memorable incident involving a "vegetable soup" that definitely had pork in it.

Learning to say "I don't eat meat, fish, eggs, or dairy" in the local language changed everything. Suddenly servers could help me. Chefs could modify dishes. I could actually eat well instead of surviving on bread and fruit.

This applies to all dietary restrictions, not just veganism. Allergies, religious requirements, health conditions. Whatever your needs, learn how to express them clearly. Your stomach will thank you.

And here's the bonus: food conversations often lead to the most genuine cultural exchanges. Once someone understands what you're looking for, they often become invested in helping you find it. I've discovered some of my favorite meals this way.

5) "Can you help me?" or "I don't understand"

This phrase is your safety net.

No matter how well you prepare, you're going to hit moments where you're lost, confused, or completely out of your depth. Being able to signal that you need help, in the local language, makes people far more likely to actually help you.

There's something about hearing someone ask for assistance in your own language that triggers a different response. It shows vulnerability, yes, but also effort and respect. Speaking a foreign language brings you closer to locals and helps build trust, making people more open to helping you.

I remember getting completely turned around in the Barcelona metro system. I could have stood there looking at my phone like every other confused tourist. Instead, I approached someone and said, in very broken Spanish, that I didn't understand and needed help. They not only gave me directions but walked me to the right platform.

This phrase also takes the pressure off you to be perfect. You're essentially saying, "I'm trying, but I'm struggling, and I could use some support." Most people respond to that with kindness.

It's also just honest. You don't understand. You do need help. Saying so in the local language makes the interaction feel collaborative instead of demanding.

Why these five phrases matter more than you think

Here's what I've realized after years of travel and enough linguistic fumbles to fill a book: language learning isn't really about the language.

It's about signaling that you see the people around you as human beings deserving of effort, not just background characters in your travel story. It's about acknowledging that you're a guest, and guests should try to speak their hosts' language, even imperfectly.

Learning the native language provides a richer, more personal experience with local cultures in ways that no amount of research or documentaries can replicate. Those five phrases open doors that staying in English keeps firmly closed.

I'm not suggesting you need to become fluent before every trip. I certainly haven't. My Portuguese is embarrassing, my Japanese is limited to about twelve words, and don't even get me started on my attempts at tonal languages. But those basic phrases? They've consistently made the difference between feeling like an outsider and feeling like a welcomed visitor.

The actual mechanics of learning these phrases takes minimal time. Maybe an hour total if you include pronunciation practice. You can do it on the plane. You can do it the week before your trip. There are apps, YouTube videos, podcast episodes, all designed exactly for this purpose.

What takes longer is shifting your mindset from "everyone should speak English" to "I should make an effort to speak their language." Once you make that shift, the phrases themselves are easy.

And yes, you'll mess up. You'll use the wrong tone. You'll accidentally say something that makes no sense or, worse, something mildly offensive. Everyone does. The people I've met while traveling have been remarkably patient with linguistic disasters, probably because they appreciate the attempt.

Next time you book a trip, spend an hour learning these phrases. Write them down. Practice them until they feel somewhat natural. Then use them, confidently and often, even when it feels uncomfortable.

Because the discomfort of trying is nothing compared to the isolation of not trying at all.