8 American “Norms” That Make Absolutely No Sense Outside The U.S.!

What I Didn’t Realize About Life in the U.S… That is Until I Moved Abroad and Got a Reality Check!

I used to think everyone iced their drinks. Like, religiously. I mean, what kind of monster drinks a lukewarm Coke? 

Then I moved to Ukraine in 1999 and ordered a soda at a café in Kyiv.

The waitress blinked at me like I’d just asked for plutonium. “With ice, please,” I added, confident and clueless.

She returned five minutes later, triumphant, holding a single melting cube in a shot glass.

The table next to me actually laughed. 

That was the moment I realized something horrifying:

I was the weird one.

Not just weird, I was the baseball hat and cargo shorts wearing, walking and talking embodiment of American assumptions.

Iced drinks, big dryers, prescription drug ads during dinner, and the sacred art of free refills… it all seemed so normal to me.

Until it wasn’t. 

Until I found myself standing in a French laundromat staring at a single, sad drying rack like it had personally insulted my mother.

Or sitting in a café in Brescia, Italy, stunned that my cappuccino didn’t come with a mountain of flavored syrup and three shots of whipped cream.

Living abroad doesn’t just challenge your worldview, it smacks it upside the head with a cold fish, usually served in gelatin, “Holodets” (I’m looking at you, post-Soviet Ukraine).

And that’s when the fun begins.

So if you’ve ever thought your way of doing things was just “how it’s done,” buckle up.

Here are 8 seemingly universal truths I believed… until the rest of the world set me straight.

1. Free Refills Aren’t a Global Right

I learned the hard way that refills are not a God-given human right.

In fact, they’re basically an American unicorn.

The first time I asked for a second Coke in a small café in France, the server looked at me like I’d just asked him to babysit my pet python.

“You want…another?” he asked, with a tone that suggested I’d already exceeded some secret soda quota.

When I clarified, “Yes, a refill,” he paused, smiled tightly, and said, “Of course… but you will pay again.”

In Ukraine, it was even more awkward. I once asked for a refill and got an entirely new glass of juice… and a second bill.

No top-offs, no courtesy.

Just capitalism with a side of citrus.

Ironically, with the current trends of shrinkflation in the U.S., free refills are slowly going the way of the Dodo bird…

This American’s Takeaway: If you’re abroad and thirsty, pace yourself.

That second Coke will cost you… again.

2. Where Are All the Big Dryers?

Back in the U.S., the sound of a dryer rumbling in the background is just… life.

But when I moved to Europe, suddenly my socks were hanging out the window like flags of surrender.

In Poland, I asked a friend where the dryer was.

He blinked, then motioned toward the balcony.

“You mean that?” he said, pointing to a clothesline that looked like it hadn’t been used since Communism.

And don’t get me started on crunchy towels. I’ve stayed in guest apartments in Bulgaria where I swear the towel could exfoliate a tree.

This American’s Takeaway: Abroad, your clothes dry naturally.. and develop the texture of a tortilla chip.

Welcome to the greener side of laundry.

3. Portion Sizes That Could Feed a Village

The first time I ordered a meal in Spain, I thought they’d forgotten half of it.

Where was the overflowing mountain of fries? 

The bottomless soup bowl? 

The side of “just in case” pancakes?

In America, we measure love with serving sizes.

But overseas, especially in France, Italy, Spain or anywhere that hasn’t experienced the Cheesecake Factory… less is more.

I once ate an entire meal in Switzerland that fit on a plate smaller than my face.

And yet… I didn’t need to be rolled out of the restaurant afterward. 

Go figure.

This American’s Takeaway: Portion control isn’t punishment, it’s just how the rest of the world avoids heartburn.

4. Tipping Isn’t Just Confusing… It’s American

I once tried tipping in a café in Germany and the cashier actually handed it back.

“No,” she said, “you are already paid.”

She looked mildly offended, as if I had assumed she needed charity.

Meanwhile, back in the U.S., you’d be crucified for leaving less than 20%.

In Spain, I left a few coins on the table after a coffee and the waiter practically chased me down the street to return them.

I thought I was being polite.

He thought I was an idiot flashing my money around and showing off.

This American’s Takeaway: Tipping isn’t universal, it’s cultural.

When in doubt, observe locals. Or risk offending someone by being “too nice.”

5. Why So Many Pillows?

Americans love their pillows. Big ones, small ones, decorative ones you’re not even allowed to touch.

My bed back home looked like it was hosting a pillow summit.

Then I moved abroad and checked into a modest apartment in Greece.

One pillow.

Just one. Flat, firm, and vaguely shaped like a small doormat. I thought it was a mistake.

I checked the closet.

Nothing.

In France, I once asked for an extra pillow and was offered a rolled-up towel.

This American’s Takeaway: In much of the world, comfort is practical, not plush.

If you need five pillows to sleep, maybe pack your own.

6. Prescription Drug Ads… Wait, You Advertise Those?

Only in America do we cut to commercial during a murder scene so a soft voice can tell us, “Ask your doctor about Zofinax.”

It starts off soothing, like a lullaby for your stressed induced ulcer.

Then comes the list. Side effects may include dry mouth, night sweats, cardiac arrest, existential dread, speaking in tongues, and yes, death.

Somehow, we still watch it with popcorn and a 7-Eleven Big Gulp Slurpee in hand like, “Yeah. Sounds legit. Maybe I should ask my doctor.”

Try explaining this to someone in France or Ukraine.

They’ll just stare at you like you’ve started reciting conspiracy theories.

Then ask, “Wait… your TV tells you what drugs to take?” Eyes wide, brows raised.

“Isn’t that… dangerous?” Another will chime in…

And my reply simply, “Yes… Yes, it is.”

But it’s our version of freedom.

This American’s Takeaway: The U.S. and New Zealand are the only countries that allow direct-to-consumer drug ads.

Everyone else thinks we’ve lost our minds, and they might be right.

7. AC Everywhere, All the Time

If you grew up in the U.S., walking into a room that isn’t 68 degrees feels like a personal attack.

In France during a summer heatwave, I asked my Airbnb host where the AC was.

She just laughed and handed me a fan from 1993.

My first summer at my girlfriend’s family’s dacha in Ukraine, I lived through sweltering July nights with nothing but a cracked window and dreams of refrigerated air.

Italy was no different. Or at least not for my sister.

When I asked her about her once-in-a-lifetime trip, she didn’t gush about the Colosseum or the pasta.

She just shook her head and said, “They got no AC!”

That was it.

Everything else was a sweaty blur.

This American’s Takeaway: Air conditioning is a luxury, not a birthright.

Abroad, you sweat, and adapt.

8. You Can’t Drink Yet? But You Can Go to War?

When I first started traveling, I was baffled to learn that 18 year olds, could legally drink in Spain, Ireland, and Greece… while back home I had my first fake ID made at 16!

This is despite the fact that the U.S. proudly allows you to enlist, deploy, and potentially die for your country at 18… but not legally sip a beer at your own send-off party.

I met a group of college kids in Italy who were floored when I explained the American drinking age. “So, you can drive a tank,” one of them asked, “but not order wine with dinner?”

Exactly.

This American’s Takeaway: American drinking laws baffle the world.

Abroad, drinking is cultural.

In the U.S., it’s conditional.

“Normal” Is Just Where You Grew Up

Living abroad does more than challenge your habits… it holds up a mirror and asks, “Why do you do it that way?”

And sometimes, you don’t have an answer. You just do.

Because that’s what “normal” always meant to you.

But what I’ve learned, on hot nights at country dachas in Ukraine, at cafes in Spain, and over wine in a tiny village in France, is that normal is relative.

What’s standard in one place is alien in another.

And that’s the beauty of stepping outside your own cultural bubble.

So, what’s something you thought was totally normal, until you left your country?