The Real Culture Shock Was Hearing What They Thought About Us Overseas
Forget the news! The rawest truths about the U.S.A. come from conversations in cafes, classrooms, and awkward moments abroad…
“Is it true that every American owns a gun?” the French woman asked me, eyes wide, genuinely curious, not afraid, just… curious.
And that’s when it hit me: I wasn’t just traveling…
I was a walking, baseball hat and cargo shorts wearing, full-blown cultural stereotype.
And I didn’t sign up for this, by the way.
I moved abroad thinking, “I’d be the observer.”
You know, taste the local food, complain about the lack of high speed internet, maybe teach a few English classes in Ukraine and call it a cultural exchange.
But somewhere between being asked:
- If I actually knew how to cook (France).
- If I ever didn’t smile (Ukraine).
- And if Americans really do get only two weeks of vacation a year (Romania, where that got a solid, sympathetic gasp).
I realized something uncomfortable.
Living abroad “doesn’t just teach you about them”.
It teaches “what they see in you”.
And let me tell you, some of it stings a little.
I’ve had years of this now. Awkward questions in Romania. Odd compliments in Poland. Sideways glances in Georgia.
I’ve had long, hilarious, and sometimes painfully honest conversations in Ukraine, France, and Spain where people asked me things about my country that I hadn’t even asked myself.
And whether I agreed with their take or not, their questions always made me pause.
So no, this isn’t another piece about how foreigners “don’t get us.”
This is about the moments they did. Maybe better than we do.
What you’re about to read isn’t secondhand analysis from a podcast or a headline.
It’s the raw, unscripted feedback you get from a stranger at a bar in Spain or a fellow teacher over beers in Ukraine.
These aren’t critiques. They’re reflections.
And if you’re American, brace yourself.
You might see yourself a little more clearly through their eyes.
1. Why Are You So Confident
In France, a Brit once told me Americans walk around like they just closed a million-dollar deal and got laid on the way over.
In Poland, it was more subtle, a raised eyebrow when I casually answered a question with “Of course.”
Apparently, that kind of confidence reads as either refreshing or slightly delusional, depending on the weather and your accent.
It wasn’t arrogance, exactly. It was just… American.
The belief that things will “work out,” even if you have no plan whatsoever.
I saw it in myself after years abroad, still strutting into visa offices like I had diplomatic immunity, despite not even knowing what paperwork I needed.
What I Took From It: Confidence is great, until it crosses into clueless optimism.
Sometimes, the most respectful thing you can do in another country is to lead with questions instead of answers.
2. You Work So Hard What’s the Point
While traveling across Romania by train, I mentioned the general two-week U.S. vacation allowance, and the Romanian family I was sitting with, all looked at me like I’d just confessed to a crime.
“Only two weeks?” their daughter said in flawless English (before translating it to her parents), pausing mid-bite during her travel snack out of disbelief.
“Is that even legal?” Spain was no better. I made the mistake of checking work emails during tapas hour in Logroño.
The bartender gently slid my phone out of my hand and said, “No.”
Old habits die hard, even along the Camino De Santiago.
Americans treat work like it’s a competitive sport.
In most of Europe, working through lunch or skipping vacation doesn’t make you a hero, it makes you someone who needs therapy.
What I Took From It: Hustle culture doesn’t travel well. Rest isn’t a reward, it’s a right.
If the whole world is telling you to slow down, maybe it’s not them… it’s us.
3. Does Everyone Really Own a Car
In Ukraine, my ex-girlfriend’s Uncle once asked me if it was true that in America even teenagers have their own cars.
I told him yes, and he blinked like I’d said we all had pet unicorns.
In North Macedonia, my Airbnb host flat-out asked if cars are just handed out at graduation.
We grew up believing a car equals freedom. But abroad, it looked more like dependence.
In countries with decent public transit, people seemed genuinely confused why anyone would want to deal with parking.
What I Took From It: Mobility in America is a necessity more than a luxury. But in the rest of the world it’s the exact opposite.
It’s a reminder that freedom doesn’t have to come with four wheels and a monthly insurance bill.
4. You’re Friendly But Is It Real
In Tbilisi, a woman asked me why Americans say “How are you?” but don’t wait for the answer. Fair point.
In Ukraine, a friend once joked, “Americans smile like they’re being graded on it.” And I couldn’t argue.
I’d definitely turned friendliness into muscle memory after years of sales and service jobs as well as suburban American life.
Our “have a nice day!” culture is charming to some, confusing to others. Especially when it doesn’t come with follow-through.
What I Took From It: Authenticity isn’t in the smile, it’s in the follow-up.
If you’re going to ask someone how they are, maybe hang around long enough to hear the answer.
5. How Can You Be So Divided and Still Function
Over lunch in Georgia, a local asked, “How do you still have a country when half of you hate the other half?”
Fair enough, but this is in a country with 2 breakaway Republics… just sayin’.
Greece wasn’t much gentler. A man there told me American politics looked like a reality show with guns.
Then I remembered the Greek Financial Debt Crisis with their Anti-austerity movement protests, and, well… you get the picture.
Other people from these very same countries sometimes need to take a hard look in the mirror themselves…
But what shocked them most wasn’t even the divisions.
No.
It was that life still went on.
- Flights still took off.
- The lights were still on.
- The Supermarkets stayed stocked.
- The ATMs were still filled with cash.
- And no one stormed the capital… well, I guess we can’t say that anymore after January 6th, 2020.
What I Took From It: America’s chaos is confusing, but strangely resilient.
Maybe because, despite the noise, most people just want to get through the day.
But that’s what possibly keeps the place running, that, or maybe it’s duct tape and denial.
Still unclear.
6. Do You Still Believe in the “American Dream”
In Donetsk, Ukraine, an English student asked me, genuinely, if I still believed in the American Dream. “Does it still exist?” she said.
I paused. Not because I didn’t know the answer, but because I wasn’t sure which version of the dream she meant.
In Ireland, it came up again over a pint. “You guys always believe things will get better,” the bartender said. “That’s not how we think.”
He didn’t say it with envy. More like wonder.
What I Took From It: The American Dream still lives, but it’s got a bit of a limp. Abroad, people see our belief in reinvention as almost mythical.
And maybe, in a world full of realism, myths matter more than we think.
7. I Wish We Had Your Optimism
This was the quiet one. Said to me in a corner of Albania, whispered in a classroom in Ukraine, even once in a taxi ride in Romania. “You Americans… you believe anything is possible.”
They weren’t mocking me.
They were marveling.
Because in countries with deep histories and long shadows, that kind of wide-eyed optimism doesn’t come easy.
What I Took From It: Believing things can improve isn’t naïve, it’s powerful.
And if we’ve still got that spark, maybe it’s our job to use it wisely, not waste it on motivational mugs and LinkedIn quotes.
What They Saw That I Didn’t
The most revealing truths about America didn’t come wrapped in a flag or piped in through a headline.
They came in subtle side comments, in unfiltered curiosity and in one-line observations from people who had no agenda, just honest questions.
Living abroad turned the mirror around.
Sometimes I liked what I saw.
Sometimes I flinched.
But every time, I learned.
Now it’s your turn.
What’s something someone abroad said about your country that made you stop and think?
David Peluchette is a Premium Ghostwriter/Travel and Tech Enthusiast. When David isn’t writing he enjoys traveling, learning new languages, fitness, hiking and going on long walks (did the 550 mile Camino de Santiago, not once but twice!), cooking, eating, reading and building niche websites with WordPress.