This is going to seem minor, but it was a shock to me.

I grew up in Texas. I lived in very metropolitan places – near downtown Dallas, and near the Houston medical center. So I never thought that I was culturally isolated or anything.

When I finally left the state for a job, I went to Los Angeles, circa 2007. In my first week there, a lady pulled up next to me on the street and asked me where the courthouse was. I had a vague idea, but explained that I was new to the area so my advice should be taken with a grain of salt. People familiar with the LAX area will know that the nearby courthouse is a tall building with something resembling a crown or halo, I pointed her toward that.

It wasn’t until a couple of minutes later I realized what seemed strange about the encounter. The lady was of African-American descent.

I thought back on 3 decades of living in Texas, and I cannot once remember being approached by a black stranger and asked a question. Not one single time. Houston has a large homeless population, I had many encounters with panhandlers. I couldn’t remember one single black person.

In fact, as I thought about it, a HUGE difference between Texas and California was that black folks on the street behaved very differently. In California, they looked you in the eye, they said “hello”, etc. In Texas – at least, up until I left in 2007 – black folks were strictly “heads down, eyes on your own business”. Even thinking back on some black friends and co-workers, I realized that they behaved very differently in public than my white friends did.

The whole thing made me sad for my black friends back in Texas. And now that we know how police treat black folks, I guess I can see why they behaved the way they did.

Going to sound weird but going to one of my childhood friend’s house

He had a loving family where everyone was happy and helped each other. They communicated with each other happily about things that interested them. They were unafraid to share what was on their minds and what they were passionate about. They asked each other to do things without threatening or screaming. When they did have disagreements they talked them out. They’d say, “I love you,” without a hint of pain or irony.

It was jarring. It threw me off. I went over to his place a lot (like literally almost every day for the time were friends) and it wasn’t until I had been going to his place for a few weeks did it dawn on me that I had never seen his parents argue.

And honestly one of the most eye opening experiences from when I was young about how a family is supposed to function.

I guess you could say it was culture shock because my relatives operated on a culture of fear, hatred, and a lack of love. The phrase, “You have to love me, I’m family,” was uttered entirely too many times. Violence and the threat of violence was the only motivator my relatives used.

I was friends with that guy for 3 years. I’ll never forget his parents telling me that they saw me as family. I’d say those years did more good for shaping who I am today than all the years I spent with my relatives. I look back fondly on the time I spent with them. I wish it didn’t end the way it did though.

I hope they’re all doing well.

Believe it or not it was a trip to Memphis for training from Canada. I am not well travelled by any means. I made it into Memphis and after a short ride, arrived at my hotel. The people who worked there were some of the most lovely people I have ever met. Southern hospitality was in their soul. I even got to sit down one afternoon with some other guests and hotel staff to discuss differences in politics, healthcare and so on. It blew my mind when people were telling me the expense of just having a baby delivered at their local hospital. I could not wrap my mind around not wanting socialized healthcare. It was the first evening in the hotel, I decided to turn on the local news for Memphis. This was the first real culture shock. The violence. Shootings, stabbings, robberies. I honestly went from feeling like this place is amazing, to this place scares the sh!t out of me. I could not understand why in a place where I had met such beautiful and lovely individuals had to live in a place that was so violent. So after my training week had finished up I decided to head to Beal street and walk around the downtown core a bit. Beal was very much what I had imagined. Kind of felt like a tourist trap. Anyhow I ventured off the beaten path and headed into the town to do some shopping around. I had left a local record shop and heard the ranting of some biker coming out of a building. He was yelling the most racist things if I have ever heard. I was floored. Most of the racists I have encountered where I live are old asshats who keep it secret. But this man out in the street let his hatred fly.

Memphis was this weird crossover world where I was treated like gold and at the same time had to feel afraid for my safety. It still blows my mind the racism and bigotry people still face. It has stuck with me for years.

I must admit that I eventually got used to it and even started enjoying this attitude, which I also took part in, but I was quite amazed by the Finns.

For work reasons, I had to spend three months in Espoo and the interaction with my colleagues was strangely cold in social interactions. Examples:

• In the office canteen, they would sit next to you and start eating without even greeting or making conversation. I wondered why they had chosen to sit next to me.
• When they finished eating, they would get up from the table and not say goodbye.
• The scrupulous respect for personal space: in queues, crowds, etc.
• Small talk was generally non-existent. People often preferred to stay quiet rather than chat about the weather or other common topics. Even in an elevator, silence was the norm, not the exception.
• During meetings, the Finns would often speak only when they had something substantial to contribute. The silence in between wasn’t considered awkward, but a moment of thoughtfulness and respect for others’ ideas.

I ended up enjoying this way of social interaction. It seems to me that one uses less energy in social situations. There’s less stress about having to make conversation or engage in small talks.

Love you Finland.

When my Muslim coworker told me that they didn’t use toilet paper and found it disgusting.

I later got a bidet and have never looked back.

I went to India (New Delhi, Goa, Chennai, Jaipur) as a middle class Canadian.

People hanging off the side of busses, monkeys running around everywhere, open sewage, cows eating garbage on the side of the road, literally everyone staring at me, tons of people following me trying to give me directions to tourist sites, different views on personal space.

Shit was wild.

I graduated from high school in 1995. The community I grew up in was incredibly diverse. It was a decent sized city (100k+) and we had about 3,000 students the year I graduated.

That summer, we went to rural Idaho for a family reunion. It was probably the first time in my life that I visited a place that was exclusively white. I’m a white dude myself, but like I said, grew up in a diverse community.

The lack of diversity was a giant culture shock to me. I was in a small community with a population that was about half the size of the school I had just graduated from.

Went to Ireland for a couple weeks. I was expecting a bunch of rowdy angry drunks, and instead was met with warmth and hospitality at every turn, and constant singing/music everywhere.

Truly mind blowing

I grew up in Liberia in the 80s and had to leave due to the civil war. (Remember General Butt-Naked? Yeah, that war in that country) It was a crazy time, not one big shock but a string of many smaller things. For example, I would look out the school window and see a horde of students wielding machetes overrunning the school grounds - I can’t remember what they were protesting.

But coming back to Europe the biggest culture shocks were functioning waste disposal and utilities, and how clean everything was. Also it was hard for me to relate to people’s problems, because they seemed so trivial. Took me a while to adjust.

Not me, but the first time my boyfriend traveled with my family somewhere, he could not believe that sitting quietly in a living room reading was a thing. My family didn’t feel the need to fill our day to the brim with tours or shopping or other activities. And that was shocking to him.

Some cultures eat with their mouths open and it is considered as a kind of a compliment to the cook, like “hey it’s so good, it makes me do this loud noise while I eat it”. Quite unpleasant.

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I spent a few years in the US, coming from Scandinavia. It took several months before I was able to navigate the whole “strike up a conversation with anyone”-thing. The issue wasn’t so much being “forced” into conversations (which I got used to fairly quickly) as it was knowing when these interactions were considered over by the other party. I’d often, unintentionally, overstay my welcome. The general vibe and attitude were also quite different.

The biggest shock was however moving back home. I’m originally from one of the larger cities in my home country, but ended up in a tiny village through a series of coincidences. Going from a multi-million US city to a tiny Scandinavian mountain village was rough. Went from a place filled with outgoing people to a place where the cashier in the local store still took me for a tourist after having lived there for a year. An almost impenetrable society. I’ve been here for a decade now, and have long since realized that I will always be “that guy from XYZ”. On the plus side, it’s nice not having to deal with people beyond my own family an coworkers. On the negative side I have almost no sense of belonging here outside of my wife’s family who are all local.

They only use darn cash in Germany. Feels like going back to ancient times.

German living in Canada since 2018. Couple of things:

• There’s no bread culture. It’s all toast, with the exception of French breads. But I saw brown colored toast sold as pumpernickel. A travesty.
• The love for bland food. I know, there was a demonization campaign against salt in the 80s or something. But you gotta get over it. Feels like you’re saving salt from the cooking to put it on the road in the winter.
• The healthcare system is a joke. “bUt It’S bEtTeR tHaN iN tHe Us.” As if that’s difficult. Only difference is your dumpster isn’t on fire, yet.
• THE ABSOLUTE TRASH THAT’S SOLD AS TOILET PAPER! Honestly my biggest pet peeve. TP here is flimsy and overpriced. >1$ for a roll of 2-ply or >2$ per roll of 3-ply, but both tear if you so much as look at them the wrong way.