6 Cringe-Worthy Mistakes I Made Abroad That Still Haunt Me!

What No One Tells You About Humiliating Yourself Abroad… Until It’s Too Late

From Grandma Insults to Police Run-Ins! Here’s what every traveler needs to know before humiliating themselves overseas

I once told my girlfriend’s grandmother I was “sexually finished.” I basically forgot to say the prefix before the word, “finished”, which means something totally awkward in Russian. 

At dinner. 

After a second helping of stuffed cabbage. 

The silence that followed could have frozen the Dnipro.

She didn’t say a word, just gave me that look Ukrainian grandmothers have perfected over centuries, the one that makes you instantly regret every decision that brought you to this moment.

Nobody warns you about this stuff.

When you pack up your life and move to another country, whether it’s Ukraine, Georgia, or Albania, you imagine cultural enlightenment, spontaneous friendships, and maybe a rustic wine-fueled weekend in the countryside.

You don’t picture miming “explosive diarrhea” at a pharmacy in Tbilisi, or handing your date’s mom a funeral bouquet because you didn’t know even numbers are for the dead.

And those glossy Instagram reels?

They never show you getting shaken down by a cop in Kyiv for not registering your visa on time.

In 1999, my first year abroad, I made every embarrassing mistake you can imagine, and a few you probably can’t. 

Some were linguistic landmines.

Others were cultural tripwires.

All of them were mortifying.

But each one taught me something.

About the world.

About humility.

And mostly, about how not to make a total ass of yourself on foreign soil.

So, in the spirit of full-frontal humiliation, and hopefully sparing you from repeating any of these disasters, here are 6 of my most painfully awkward expat screw-ups and what they taught me.

1. The Language Fail That Still Keeps Me Up at Night

It was a cozy dinner in Ukraine, and I was doing my best to impress my girlfriend’s family with my newly acquired Russian vocabulary.

I had just polished off a mountain of vareniki when her grandmother asked if I wanted more.

With a confident smile, I said, “я кончил.” “Ya Konchal”

Everyone at the table froze.

The only sound was the slow drip of sour cream off my fork.

What I meant to say was “I’m full.”

But the closest phrase I knew was “I’m finished.”

What I actually said was something closer to “I’m sexually satisfied.”

At the dinner table.

To a Soviet-era babushka.

The worst part? I didn’t realize my mistake until later that night, when my girlfriend broke it down with that uniquely Slavic blend of “are you actually this stupid?” layered under a giggle that slowly morphed into a sigh of pity… for herself, not me.

How Not to Be That Foreigner: Don’t just learn vocabulary, learn context.

“Konchal” might technically mean “finished,” but when you leave out the prefix “Za” along with a very animated “patting of your belly”, you might end up sounding like a pervert at a potluck.

Always sanity-check your new phrases with a native speaker before using them in polite company.

2. The Gesture That Got Me the Death Stare

Greece. Igoumenitsa. Small family restaurant. I’d just devoured a plate of souvlaki that nearly made me weep with satisfaction.

The cold white wine on that hot summer’s day also helped lubricate my enthusiasm of finishing such a great meal.

Feeling chummy, I looked at the owner (an older gentleman) and gave him an enthusiastic thumbs-up.

His smile disappeared like someone had hit a switch. He narrowed his eyes, nodded stiffly, and walked away without another word.

Confused, I watched him retreat, and that’s when someone from the next table leaned over and whispered in English, “Yeah… in Greece, that means something a little closer to ‘up yours.’ Especially to older generations..”.

Nice.

How Not to Be That Foreigner: Hand gestures don’t travel well.

The peace sign? Not so peaceful in the UK if your palm’s facing the wrong way.

Thumbs up? A different kind of “salute” in some countries.

Before you go all gestural IRL, do a quick Google search on what your hands are actually saying.

3. The Dress Code Disaster at a Serious Event

Beaujolais Nouveau night in rural France. I was invited by some new acquaintances for a “tasting”, and was told it would be a casual evening celebrating the new wine release.

So I showed up “casual”, jeans, sneakers, and my best hoodie (really, my only hoodie).

Big mistake.

Turns out, in France, “casual” doesn’t mean “just rolled out of a hostel bunk bed.”

It means you don’t wear a tux, but you do wear something ironed.

I was the only one who looked like I’d wandered in off a late-night pizza run.

How Not to Be That Foreigner: When attending anything that ends in “night,” “ceremony,” or “tasting” in France, assume a blazer won’t hurt.

Worst case, you’re overdressed.

Best case, you don’t look like someone’s American cousin who got lost on the way to the laundromat.

4. The Bureaucratic Blunder That Nearly Got Me Deported

My first year in Kyiv 1999, I treated my visa like a novelty sticker and my registration paperwork like optional reading.

Big mistake.

One winter evening, while going out with my girlfriend to pick up a few beers and snacks for a “get-together”, a pair of police officers overheard us speaking English and stopped us on the street.

Routine check. They asked for documents.

She was fine.

I had nothing but a Metro chip and a pack of chewing gum.

Cue the questions. Cue the suspicion.

Cue the “come with us” moment.

Luckily, my girlfriend handled it in Ukrainian while looking-annoyed-but-polite.

I got away with a warning, but I was two steps from learning what a post-Soviet holding cell looked like.

How Not to Be That Foreigner: Visas, registrations, and official stamps matter, a lot. This isn’t TSA PreCheck. It’s “prove you belong here or enjoy our concrete hospitality suite.” Make copies.

Keep your passport handy.

Know the rules, even if no one told you them.

5. The “Innocent” Comment That Was Actually Offensive

At a birthday party in Kyiv, surrounded by friendly strangers and too many shots of vodka, I leaned in to chat with a guy next to me and asked, “So, what do you do?”

He stared at me like I’d asked for his ATM PIN.

“Business,” he replied flatly.

“Oh, cool! What kind?”

He leaned closer. “None of your business.”

Lesson learned.

In post-Soviet cultures (at least in 1999), asking someone what they “do” can come off as nosy at best, or suspicious at worst.

You’re not networking at a LinkedIn mixer. You’re poking into private territory.

How Not to Be That Foreigner: Swap the career question for something safer.

• Ask what they enjoy doing on weekends.
• Ask about travel.

Just don’t treat the conversation like a job interview in a place where privacy is armor.

6. The Time I Refused Help… and Got Completely Lost

North Macedonia. The hills outside Ohrid. I’d rented a bike to explore some monastery ruins and promptly got myself thoroughly lost.

But I was determined. Independent. A rugged expat with a Google Map that hadn’t loaded since I lost my mobile network signal at breakfast.

After nearly an hour of circling the same flock of goats, a 10-year-old boy approached on foot, pointed at my bike, and then at a dirt path.

I nodded politely, thanked him, and biked in the opposite direction, because clearly I knew better.

Twenty minutes later, I found myself back in front of the same goats, who looked increasingly judgmental.

Eventually, I gave in, followed the boy’s original path, and “surprise” it led me straight to my village destination.

How Not to Be That Foreigner: Ask for help. Then take it.

The expat ego is strong, but humility will save you time, embarrassment, and potentially a night sleeping next to livestock.

Cringe Now, Laugh Later… Or At Least Learn From Me

If you’re not cringing at your past self, are you really growing?

In the moment, each one felt like the world was ending. The kind of cringe that clings to your soul and replays on a loop every time you’re alone in the shower.

But now?

They’re the stories I tell first at parties, and the ones that taught me more than any Rick Steves guidebook ever could.

So go ahead. Mangle the grammar. Misread the menu.

Get lost in the North Macedonian countryside and hang out with some goats.

Just promise me you’ll learn something… and that you’ll laugh about it later.

Now it’s your turn 

What’s the most embarrassing thing you’ve done abroad?