Polaroid pictures become a gift for children in Papua New Guinea.

Scene: Two hefty Americans touring a Balinese temple -- one man in shorts and a muscle shirt, the other guy in an ankle-length flowered wrap skirt and matching cap.

Which one stands out as a foreigner? Both of them.

Which one stands out as a jerk?

No, not the dude in the skirt (my husband, actually). In a country such as Bali, where modest dress -- especially the covering of one's legs and shoulders -- is a cultural norm for both sexes, Mr. Skirt is merely trying to show his respect for his host country. Mr. Muscle Shirt is defiling a holy place.

Local folks appreciate the difference.

Fitting in with the people of a destination is one of the great joys of travelling abroad -- and hard to accomplish when you are separated not only by language barriers but also by customary dress and mannerisms. But there are ways to soften -- if not erase -- the differences, and to increase the comfort level for both travellers and residents. The more the line is blurred, the more the tourist and the local evolve into visitor and host.

Why not give it a try? You have nothing to lose but isolation.

Dress as they dress.. or at least in harmony with local mores.

In Bali, my husband perhaps went a bit overboard with the skirt and skull cap. Balinese men and women strolling by us in their own wrap skirts and caps giggled as they beheld the striped golf shirt, high-top sneakers and clunky camera gear that made up the rest of his attire. But our guide told us the people were grateful for David's well-intentioned gesture -- even though long pants and a collared shirt would have been sufficient.

The main point was to honour the do's and taboos of the culture, eschewing clothes that offend, such as shorts, halter tops or other flesh-baring attire.

In some ultra-conservative cultures -- particularly in the Middle East -- dressing like a local can mean the difference between an easygoing exploration of a place and outright hostility from the residents, especially toward women.

Walking around the crowded streets of downtown Amman, Jordan, my bare head attracted uncomfortable attention -- and some glares. When I went undercover in an inexpensive scarf purchased from a street vendor, the staring stopped and I could stroll in peace.

In Mea Shearim, the Orthodox heart of Jerusalem, my long black skirt, long-sleeve shirt and somber babushka had a double advantage. I was able to pass inconspicuously among similarly attired women, and on occasion I could discretely snap a few pictures of the scene -- men in long black coats bustling about, groups of young boys in long curly side-locks chattering happily on their way to religious studies.

TRAVEL, EAT, SHOP AS THEY DO

It should be obvious that you will encounter more residents and blend in with them better if you travel the way they do and dine and shop at the kinds of establishments they tend to frequent.

Skip the hotel dining room and head out to the street cafes and small restaurants where the food is local and the ambiance relaxed.

Pay a visit to the nearest open market. In some towns markets are held daily, but in most places they blossom only on specific days of the week, taking up many blocks with stalls selling fruits and vegetables, fish, and house wares.

Eschew taxis whenever feasible and take a bus, a train, a ferry or a ciclo (a pedal-powered rickshaw common in much of Malaysia and the Far East).

In Australia, I vetoed the plane ride from Brisbane to Sydney, opting instead for an overnight train, where I met loads of Sydney-siders in the bar car and dined overlooking kangaroos hopping amid the cows in the vast countryside.

PLAY WHERE THEY PLAY

Sure, you want to see the major tourist sights, but you can be more than the sum of your Baedekers.

Where do the locals go for entertainment? You'll fit in more with the members of a community if you understand what amuses them.

Do a little research and you can savour experiences rich in local flavour even in tacky tourist traps.

On a Sunday in Tijuana, Mexico, a border town south of San Diego brimming with T-shirt shops, cheap crafts joints and con men pushing everything from miracle potions to fake designer wear, a 10-minute taxi ride placed us among hundreds of pleasant Mexicans, no tourists and no one trying to hustle us. Where? The local bullfight -- a major spectator sport throughout the Spanish-speaking world.

My husband and I experienced the same sense of inclusion at a popular bar/restaurant in Capetown, South Africa, where we fell into easy conversation with men and women sitting at stools and tables around us.

How did we find the action? By asking our hotel desk clerk for recommendations off the tourist track, perusing local newspapers (getting translation help, if necessary) and checking ahead with the tourist board, emphasizing our desire to experience local life.

CELEBRATE WHEN THEY DO

There's no time a country's residents are more welcoming than when they are in the midst of celebration. I have often timed my visits to national or regional festivals when everyone is out and about.

I have joined crowds cheering the costumed dancers during the annual Tet lunar New York parade in Vietnam (we handed out balloons to children along the parade route, who instantly became enthusiastic guides).

In Spain's Rioja region, I guzzled the first pressings of the annual wine-grape harvest, toasting saludos to vineyard workers dancing in the village square and applauding ebony-haired senoritas competing to be Miss Vino or something.

Something as simple as participating in a worship service (either of your own faith or the area's dominant tradition) can strengthen your ties to the host community. I have attended Yom Kippur services in Rome, a Calypso Gospel prayer meeting -- with trumpets, drums and tambourines -- in Anguilla, a Methodist Sunday service in Fiji (conducted in Fijian) and a Greek Orthodox Mass inside Jerusalem's old city walls. While exploring northwest Venezuela's desert outposts, I accepted an invitation to a week-long Guajiro Indian funeral -- and received a live goat as a welcome gift.

One caveat: Be careful to scrupulously observe local customs when attending community celebrations. At the sacred Corn Dance festivals in pueblos around New Mexico, for example, visitors often are forbidden to bring in cameras or any other media that might capture an image -- bad for the spirits.

SHARE A PHOTO FINISH

Why should you have all the memories? When you take photos of local folks (after asking their permission, of course), get their address and follow through with copies of your shots. Having pictures of themselves and their families, perhaps standing with you or your family, may create lasting ties across many miles -- or at least ease the way for the next batch of outsiders.