8 American Questions That Can Get You In Big Trouble Abroad

One Question, One Dirty Look, One Awkward Exit

What Sounds Friendly in the U.S. Might Be Fighting Words Overseas

“Is it safe here?” I asked half jokingly, perhaps just to see what kind of reaction I would get.

But that was the question that nearly got me tossed out of a café in Tirana.

The waitress, who had just served me the best byrek I’ve ever tasted, froze mid-step.

She looked at me like I’d accused her grandmother of stealing my wallet. “Safe?” she repeated (in perfect English), eyebrows doing acrobatics. “You’re literally eating. In peace. With free Wi-Fi.”

I smiled awkwardly, sipped my espresso, and mentally kicked myself.

Again.

See, growing up in America, asking questions is second nature.

It’s how we break the ice, fill awkward silences, and prove we’re “just curious.”

But after living in and traveling to places like Ukraine, Georgia, France, Albania and a string of other locales that don’t end their sentences with “Have a great day,” I’ve learned something most Americans haven’t:

Some questions come with baggage. 

And not the kind with wheels.

The truth is, what sounds like harmless small talk in, say, Ohio, can land like a punch to the throat in Skopje or Tbilisi.

That happy go lucky, “So, what do you do?” you blurt out at a communal dinner table on the Camino De Santiago in Spain? 

It might get you a cold stare and a quick subject change.

Or worse, a long answer you weren’t emotionally prepared for.

And it’s not just the obvious ones like politics or religion.

Sometimes it’s the subtle stuff.

A badly phrased question.

A curious tone.

Or the assumption that English should be spoken by default, like it’s some kind of global setting everyone forgot to enable.

In this article, I’m laying out 8 questions Americans love to ask that can go spectacularly wrong abroad.

I’ve learned some of these the hard way.

Others came from stories shared by fellow teachers and travelers I met in expat dive bars and late-night train stations from Germany to Greece.

You’ll laugh.

You’ll cringe.

You might even rewrite your mental checklist of “safe” conversation starters.

And if you’re heading abroad anytime soon, this list might just save your next conversation from ending in silence, side-eyes, or an unexpected sprint to the exit to avoid getting punched in the mouth.

And if you’re planning to travel or live abroad, trust me, this list might just save your next taxi ride from turning into a hostage negotiation.

1. “Do You Miss the Old Regime?”

I once asked this to a shopkeeper in Tbilisi. He looked at me like I’d just praised Gorbachev for banning wine and letting the KGB bug his living room.

In my American brain, I thought it was a curious little history question.

To him, it was a flashback to shortages, blackouts, and a government that made people disappear.

In places like Georgia or Ukraine, Soviet nostalgia isn’t small talk. It’s loaded.

You’re not just chatting, you’re poking at scars.

Better approach: If you’re genuinely curious, try, “What’s one thing people say has changed the most since the Soviet days?”

That way, you’re opening a door instead of sticking your foot in your mouth.

2. “Why Is It So Poor Here?”

I once heard an American blurt this out on a train from Sofia to Vidin, like he was complaining about bad service at Applebee’s.

Yikes! I cringed for him.

But, the Bulgarian guy across from him looked ready to shove his Lonely Planet down his throat.

Here’s the thing, poverty isn’t just a number.

It’s history, war, corruption, and the luck of being born in the wrong zip code of the world.

Say this out loud and you’re not making an observation.

You’re insulting every person hustling to build something from scraps.

Some smarter asks:

• “What kinds of things are improving?”
• “What people are hopeful about?”
• “What’s changed in the last decade?”

These open the doors to stories, not stares.

3. “Why Don’t People Smile More?”

Ah, the classic American smile crisis. I remember walking through Kyiv in the winter, face half-frozen, when a fellow traveler from California whispered, “Why does everyone look so angry?”

I wanted to explain that it’s January, it’s Ukraine, and nobody smiles at strangers because they’re not insane.

In many parts of the world, smiling for no reason is weird. 

Smiling too much? Suspicious.

In some cultures, people reserve smiles for genuine moments, not as a default setting.

That doesn’t mean they’re unfriendly. It means they have resting real face.

Here’s the fix: Don’t ask. Just smile if you want.

If they smile back, great. If they don’t, you’ve still got your teeth.

4. “How Do You Feel About [Insert Neighboring Country]?”

In Skopje, I once asked a guy at a bar what Macedonians thought of their Greek neighbors to the south.

Specifically, the Greeks whose province named, “Macedonia”, forced his country to tack on “North.”

He took a long sip of beer and and launched into a 20-minute historical monologue about language, identity, and why certain statues were built facing certain directions.

It ended with, “But I don’t like to talk about politics.”

Yeah. Okay.

In the Balkans, and in parts of Eastern Europe where history still breathes down people’s necks, this question is a landmine.

You might be hoping for a quick opinion.

You’ll get a doctoral thesis.

Try this instead: “Are there cultural similarities between countries around here?”

It shows respect, invites comparison, and won’t turn your dinner into a TED Talk on ethnic tensions.

5. “Is It Safe Here?”

I asked this exact question to a woman in a hotel in Albania. She raised an eyebrow, leaned in, and said, “You’re from the U.S.. You want to talk about safe?”

Touché.

Asking about safety can easily sound like you’ve been watching too much cable news.

Most people take pride in their homes and their country.

Nobody wants to hear that you think their city is a scene from a Liam Neeson movie.

What works better: “Are there any local customs or areas I should be aware of as a visitor?”

That’s practical, respectful, and less likely to trigger an eye-roll.

6. “Why Don’t You Just Leave?”

I’ve heard this question in cafés from wide-eyed nomads in Romania and Georgia.

They can’t fathom why anyone stays somewhere with low wages or political chaos.

Here’s the thing.

People don’t just “leave.” They have families. They have roots.

They have rent that’s not $2,500 a month.

And sometimes, believe it or not, they actually love where they live.

What to ask instead: “What do people value most about life here?”

It opens up a completely different conversation, one about pride, identity, and resilience.

7. “Is That Like a Real Job?”

This one makes me really cringe. A tourist in a tapas bar in Spain once laughed and asked the bartender if mixing drinks all day was “just a temporary thing.”

The look on her face said everything. 

It wasn’t temporary. It was her profession, her craft and her pride.

Just because something doesn’t come with a 401(k) and a nametag doesn’t mean it isn’t real.

From musicians in Albania to language tutors in Ukraine to street artists in Tbilisi, work looks different around the world.

And that’s the point.

Ask this instead: “What’s your day-to-day like doing this kind of work?”

You might learn something. 

You might even respect it.

8. “Why Doesn’t Anyone Speak English?”

Said every American ever in a rural pharmacy, probably holding hemorrhoid cream and hoping it’s toothpaste.

Guess what? It’s not their job to speak your language. You’re in *their* country.

You don’t walk into a tapas bar in Spain or a boulangerie in France expecting subtitles.

In Obolon, during my Kyiv first year, I got by on bad Russian, miming, and facial expressions that deserved their own Academy Award.

It was humbling.

Former Language Teacher Tip: Learn a few phrases, In fact, go ahead and mangle a few local phrases.

People will forgive your grammar. 

They won’t forgive your entitlement.

The Line Between Curiosity and Conflict Is Thinner Than You Think

The problem isn’t curiosity. It’s assumption.

Americans are taught to speak quickly, fill silence, and show interest by asking questions.

But abroad, silence is sometimes the respectful choice.

Observation is a better first step than interrogation.

A question can open a door.

It can also slam it shut.

Have you ever asked something abroad that triggered a reaction you didn’t expect? 

Or heard a question that made you cringe inside your bones?