8 Strange Cultural Habits That Totally Blindsided Me Abroad…As An American!

Thought I Was Worldly… Until Culture Hit Back!

From Funeral Feasts to Silent Pay-Per-Ride Elevators! The Everyday Culture Shocks No One Warns You About…

It was my 3rd year in Ukraine. 

By now I knew how to survive the bizarre, the marshrutka… and that asking a guy what he does for a living gets you a glare like you just slapped his babushka.

So when Vika, my then-girlfriend, invited me to a family gathering, I figured I could handle it.

But, what she failed to mention until the very last minute, was that it wasn’t just a “family gathering.”

It was a funeral.

So naturally, I walked in expecting somber faces and whispered condolences.

What I got was a feast, complete with pickled everything, flowing vodka, and people making toasts between bites of vareniki and shots of horilka.

There was continuous cooking.

There was continuous toasting.

There was laughter.

There were stories.

There was a man at the end of the table singing what sounded like a folk song about goats.

I leaned over and whispered, “Are we in the wrong place?”

Vika smiled and raised her glass. “Nope. Just a funeral.”

Ever been so confused by a “normal” moment in a foreign country that you just smiled and hoped for the best?

Because that was the moment I realized the world plays by a very different set of rules, and I had no clue what game I was in.

After more than two decades of living and traveling through places like Ukraine, Georgia, France, Poland, Albania, Spain, and the Balkans, and enough awkward cultural blunders to fill a book, I’ve gathered a list.

A very personal, occasionally humiliating, and hopefully useful list of 8 cultural habits that completely blindsided me as an American. 

These 8 taught me about how different, and surprisingly beautiful the world can be when you finally learn to get out of your own way.

1. The Pay-Per-Ride Elevator of Silence (Georgia)

My first elevator ride in Tbilisi? I smiled, said “hello,” and got met with the kind of silence you’d expect before a rocket launch.

No one blinked.

No one spoke.

Just… stare and ascend.

Apparently, elevator small talk in Georgia is as welcome as a fire drill during a nap.

Oh, and get this: many elevators aren’t free.

Yep, there’s often a coin box inside.

No coin? No ride. Newer ones might let you swipe, but the message is clear… pay up or take the stairs.

Lesson Learned: Silence is golden… and so is your pocket change.

2. Funeral Feasts Are a Thing (Ukraine)

Let’s rewind to that first funeral I mentioned.

Imagine walking into a somber Soviet-era apartment building and head into what you assume is a wake…

But instead of tissues and whispers, there’s a full-on buffet, pickled mushrooms, potatoes, black bread, smoked fish, and enough vodka to stun a small bear.

People were making toasts, laughing, even clinking glasses like it was a birthday.

I sat there frozen, fork in mid-air, thinking, Did we show up to the wrong apartment?

Nope. Just Ukraine. Where grief doesn’t always wear black, and honoring someone’s life often looks like celebrating it… loudly.

Lesson Learned: Not all cultures grieve quietly.

And sometimes, the best way to say goodbye is with food, stories, and a little too much horilka.

3. Greeting Roulette (France)

Ah yes, the kiss-kiss ritual, le bisou. So effortlessly chic and trés cool… when you know what you’re doing.

I didn’t.

It was 1993, my first time in France, in a large town in Alsace.

No smartphone, no Google, just me, my French/English dictionary that looked like a small bible, and a wildly misplaced sense of confidence.

I leaned in for one cheek.

She went for the other.

Boom forehead collision.

The kind that makes you see stars and question all your life choices.

We both laughed, but I spent the next few days asking every local, bartender and shopkeeper how many kisses were “normal.”

Turns out? It depends. Some regions do one, others two.

A few go full throttle with four.

There are other factors as well.

So, you’d better know which cheek to start with or risk turning a simple greeting into a slapstick sketch.

Lesson Learned: When in France, don’t wing the bisou.

Ask, observe, or brace for impact.

4. The Shoe Rule (Ukraine, North Macedonia, Albania)

One of the fastest ways to trigger a minor domestic incident abroad? Walk into someone’s home with your shoes on. I made this mistake once in Ukraine.

Once.

I had barely taken two steps onto the carpet when an older woman, who I later learned was the grandmother, gave me a look that could strip paint off a wall.

My shoes were off before I even knew what was happening.

Slippers are practically sacred in many households.

Some families even have a basket of guest slippers waiting at the door, like it’s a spa.

But this ain’t for comfort, it’s about respect.

Lesson Learned: When entering a home abroad, assume you’re walking onto sacred ground.

Shoes off. No debate.

5. Trash Can Toilet Paper (Georgia, Albania)

You haven’t truly lived abroad until you’ve clogged a toilet in an Albania Airbnb and had to do the walk of shame to tell the host.

In many places, Georgia, Albania, parts of Spain even, the plumbing just isn’t built for American-style enthusiasm.

Flushing toilet paper is a quick way to cause a backup of biblical proportions.

Instead, there’s a little trash can beside the toilet, and that’s where it goes.

It feels weird at first.

Then it becomes habit.

Then one day, you’re back in the States and staring at the trash can thinking, “Wait… do I?”

Lesson Learned: The bathroom is where cultures really show their quirks.

Always check the setup before you flush.

6. The Doggie Bag Dilemma (France)

The first time I asked for a to-go box in a French restaurant, my waiter blinked like I’d just requested a foot massage with my crème brûlée.

“Un doggy bag s’il vous plaît ?” I asked.

“Un… doggie bag?” he repeated, as if the phrase itself were offensive.

To be fair, in France, meals are a slow, sacred ritual, not something you parcel up like leftovers from Applebee’s.

Still, leaving half my duck confit behind felt like a crime.

But asking to take it home? Apparently that was the actual crime.

Let’s just say I got the “to-go bag” (le petit sac pour emporter)… but also a look of pure culinary betrayal.

Lesson Learned: In France, food is meant to be savored… not saved. Especially in fine restaurants.

So either clean your plate or prepare for some serious side-eye.

7. The Never-Ending Plate… and Shot Glass (Ukraine)

Ukrainians are hospitable to a level that should be classified as a competitive sport.

The first time I had dinner at my ex-girlfriend’s family’s dacha, I made the rookie mistake of cleaning my plate.

Seconds appeared. I cleared those too. Then came thirds.

I was full by course three and borderline comatose by dessert.

Turns out, in Ukraine (and several neighboring cultures), clearing your plate is basically asking for more. It’s like sending a coded message that says, “Please feed me until I explode.”

Lesson Learned: If you don’t want to roll home like a stuffed cabbage, leave a little something on the plate.

8. Playing Frogger (Greece vs. Ukraine vs. Albania)

In the U.S., you see a crosswalk, you walk. Drivers stop. That’s the rule.

In Greece, they might stop if you make eye contact and walk with confidence.

In Albania, you better pray.

And in Ukraine? Well, let’s just say I’ve seen grandmothers with canes bolt across traffic like they’re dodging sniper fire (pre-Russian invasion).

And one that didn’t make it…

One friend of mine from France described crossing streets in Tirana as “a game of controlled gambling.” He’s not wrong.

Lesson Learned: Don’t trust the painted lines. Trust your instincts… and the locals.

If they’re waiting, you wait too.

From Confused to Curious

Back at that funeral in Ukraine, I remember sitting there and listening to someone’s uncle make a wildly inappropriate joke between shots of vodka and thinking, “I don’t know what’s going on, but I kind of love it!”

That moment, awkward, confusing, and entirely out of my cultural depth, was the beginning of something.

It was the start of learning that my way of seeing the world wasn’t the only way.

Not even close.

What began as discomfort became one of the most eye-opening parts of my life abroad.

These weren’t just cultural quirks, they were full-blown lessons in humility, curiosity, and what it means to be a guest in someone else’s world.

So here’s my challenge to you:

What’s the weirdest culture shock you’ve ever experienced abroad?