Bar Tab Etiquette Across the Globe

The first time receiving a hair cut in China, I pulled out an extra five kuai, ready to tip, when my friend leaned over and told me to leave it—no tip necessary. The same thing happened at the restaurant we ate lunch at. Tipping simply is not an obligation in China as it is here in the States.

To help you escape scowling waiters and awkward moments of looking at the tip line of your bill, let’s look at the different styles of tipping in countries.

For our many students going to Europe, if you are going to Western or Eastern Europe, do not worry about tipping—staff are generally paid full wages and do not depend on customer tips. In countries such as Italy or France, a service charge is automatically added. Anywhere, adding a 10% tip is considered generous. If you are ever unsure of how much to tip, round to the higher euro and you will be fine. In bars, you are not expected to tip, but some local will spare change when the drink is especially good.

 

When in New Zealand or the South Pacific, tip 5-10% if you are impressed with the service. You are not obliged to pay anything on top of the bill. Most restaurants in the French Polynesia will include a 10% service fee charge on the tab. At the bar, all you pay for is drinks. If you must tip, 10% is extremely generous.

In Central and South America, a 10-15% tip is appreciated if there is no service charge included in your bill. If a service charge is already included, you can leave a few coins to thank the restaurant’s excellent service. (Brazil, Peru, and Costa Rica are known for their excellent restaurant service.) If visiting Uruguay, Peru, Chile or Argentina, bring extra cash as the prices will be higher than standard. Best part: if you are just ordering drinks, you’re not required to tip at all.

Tipping in Asia depends on the country. China, Thailand, and Singapore do not require tips. In Hong Kong, a 5% tip is customary except at casual eating places such as noodle shops and dim sum parlors. India bills include a service charge—no tip necessary. Japan does not require a tip. Waiters may even chase you down to return a tip. In bars, 10% is more than enough, except in China and Japan, where tipping the bartender is unheard of.

In Africa and the Middle East, tipping is simple. Tip 10% of your bill and you’re fine. Leave 2-5 rand after a meal and waiters will be thankful for your patronage.

When visiting Mexico or the Caribbean, the tipping norm is 15% of the total tap (unless a service charge is included!). The tipping norms for bars are pretty similar to the U.S., where you should tip your waiter 10-15% if you ordered food. Standards for drinks are $1 for every bottle or mug of beer, and $2 tip for every cocktail.

Keep in mind that these tips are general and may vary from place-to-place during your travels. If in doubt, consult the locals or read up before you go.

 

Michelle Yeager, OIE Student Worker

Sweet potato foam? I don’t think so.

Before I went abroad, I had never spent a holiday away from home. Whether it was something as simple as Labor Day, or as important as Christmas, I had always been in the United States and with family and friends. It never occurred to me how much being around people I loved mattered until I went to Switzerland for a year. Halloween was pretty much the same, and my flat mates and I dressed up as typical 20-year-olds in the States would. It wasn’t until Thanksgiving that it hit me.

I had never really stopped to think about the fact that the rest of the world has no idea what Thanksgiving is. Looking back on it, it’s painfully obvious: the Pilgrims landed on Plymouth Rock in North America…nowhere else. It just wasn’t something that I had ever had to contemplate. And even when I did realize it, I wasn’t all that concerned. My program was paying for the group to go to a 5-star hotel on Lake Geneva that was serving a Thanksgiving dinner for all the American ex-pats. My friends and I got dressed up and prepared for a great evening.

I don’t know about the rest of you…but food is kind of important to me. When I remember awesome times in my life, there is generally food associated with it. Whether it was the wild boar paté in France, or the lobster paella in Barcelona, I tend to eat my way through whatever country I’m in. This doesn’t change when I’m at home, and typically my Thanksgiving dinners are legendary. My father cooks an enormous turkey, three kinds of stuffing, piles of various potatoes, green beans, peas, cranberry orange relish, rolls, and at least four different kinds of pies. It is a veritable smorgasbord. This had been my Thanksgiving since I could remember, and I assumed the dinner at the Hotel Kempinski would be something similar.

Wrong.

The bread basket wasn’t all that different. The wine was undoubtedly better. I was a little weirded out by the paté and cornichons appetizer, but prepared to accept it. However, when they brought me my plate of dinner, I almost came unglued. Where my pile of turkey should have been, there was one slice of turkey breast. Where my stuffing should’ve been, there were four roasted chestnuts. There was no gravy. There was no cranberry sauce. I had a perfectly formed pile of haricots verts, maybe fifteen in total. This was alarming, but I could work with it. It wasn’t until I realized what the last thing on my plate was that I lost it. Instead of potatoes, they had put a shot glass full of sweet potato foam on my plate. Clearly the chefs at Hotel Kempinski had been fairly liberal in their interpretation of Thanksgiving, and I was suffering the consequences. I went home that night, skyped with my dad, and cried myself to sleep.

In retrospect, I should’ve been prepared for it. I should’ve realized that even though the menu said ‘Thanksgiving Dinner’, odds were good that it would be drastically different. So I’m hoping that in reading this blog, you future travelers will prepare yourselves for this kind of situation and appreciate it for what it is. I could’ve taken it as a wonderful new experience, instead of letting it ruin one of my favorite holidays. Before you go abroad, think about what American holidays you’ll be missing, and how you can try to approach it while overseas, and make the best of a less-than-ideal situation.

Unless they give you sweet potato foam. There’s no way around that one.

 

Kat Cosgrove, OIE Graduate Peer Advisor