My mom and I recently had lunch at an Asian restaurant on the Upper East Side of Manhattan.  When I say Asian, I mean they have Chinese, Japanese, and Thai food!  (It’s delicious, too.)  The staff seemed all Asian to me, but the diners were a blend of probably many different nationalities.

After we paid our bill, we put on our winter coats.  Our table was not cleared off yet, and I was still using my chair as I slowly dressed for the cold weather.  To exit, I had to turn away from our table, walk down an aisle and then over to the doorway.  However, when I turned from my table (which still had remnants of our meal),  I found myself standing face-to-face with an elderly Chinese woman.  She wanetd my seat, and made some hand gesture AT me, which I inferred meant I was a horrible human being for not immediately getting out of her way.  The woman behind her, whom I presume was her daughter, told her mother something, and her mother then pushed by me to get to the table behind me.

The experience made me wonder about expectations we all might or should have when crossing cultures.  Here I was, eating in an Asian restaurant, in the Upper East Side of New York, in America.  I am not an expert on Chinese culture, but I do believe hierarchy is much more prominent as is the concept of respect and obedience for your elders.  I imagine, were I to dine in China, I might be expected to show honor and respect for elders in a restaurant in some specific fashion.  But, here in New York, should the same be expected of me?  Am I rude for not getting out of the way?  Does she have the right to expect me to honor her cultural values outside her country?  Now, I would say, had I been in Chinatown, which is very much like a mini China where you can easily not see a word of English for blocks on end, I might not have been so surprised.  But, on the Upper East Side?  Or, is New York such a mix of diverse cultures that we are all entitled to our expectations to the point that we will no doubt encounter cultural clashes every day?

I don’t know that there is a right or a wrong answer, but I found the concept very intriguing.  What are your thoughts?

I recently read the book “The Pilgrimage” by Paulo Coelho. It’s a story of a spiritual journey one man undergoes, seemingly for his sword, and everything he learns about himself along the journey.

One paragraph in particular stood out to me with regard to the process of transitioning cultures:

“When you travel, you experience, in a very practical way, the act of rebirth.  You confront completely new situations, the day passes more slowly, and on most journeys you don’t even understand the language people speak.  So, you are like a child just out of the womb.  You begin to attach much more importance to the things around you because your survival depends upon them.  You begin to be more accessible to others because they may be able to help you in difficult situations.  And you accept any small favor from the gods with great delight, as if it were an episode you would remember for the rest of your life.”

I liked how this touched upon many of the feelings an expat may have crossing cultures.  Feeling like a child just born one can simultaneously experience great joy at discovering a new culture, and great frustration trying to learn a new language and fit in and find something familiar.  You actually notice your environment because it’s unfamiliar and you’re getting to know what parts you like and dislike, and you pay attention to how people behave, and you wonder who can help you, and even someone who just helps you with directions when you’re having a meltdown because your city map doesn’t have the tiny street you’re trying to find, and you have no idea what to do and you’re running late is like a major hero!

What are some of your memories of your early days as an expat?  Looking for an Expat Coach?  Check out The Expat Coach Directory!

While I’m on my series of “trivial” things that can cause culture shock, I realized on my recent trip to Florida that animals are yet another thing you don’t always think about as causing this common feeling.

One of the things I like best about visiting my mom in Florida is seeing all the lizards everywhere.  I try to slowly approach them and photograph them before they leap (yes, they really leap!) or run off.  Lizards, you see, are not something common to Manhattan, except, perhaps, in my local pet store.  Even then, they do not have all the varieties that exist in Florida, nor the enjoyment of open space within which to reign.

In Australia, I absolutely loved the kangaroos and went to many zoos and refuges to feed them.  Australians I met, however, considered them rats or roadkill!  But, if you are Australian and accustomed to kangaroos and koalas, and you move away from home, you will no longer find these animals anyplace but, perhaps, the zoo.

Seeing animals you have never seen around you in the wild, or the absence of such animals, can easily cause you to miss home.  This can also make you realize how different your current surroundings are from the place you’ve moved.  You might miss them, you might look forward to discovering them, but either way, this is yet another “small” example of the things you might overlook when relocating.

I recently spent some time in Florida and had to laugh at how New York has set my expectations of a manicure/pedicure experience.

In Manhattan, you can find a nail salon almost more easily than a Starbucks. Almost any place you choose is fairly decent and it’s rare to find a salon nowadays without a staff that’s also trained in massage and waxing. One of the most enjoyable parts of the experience is the hand and foot massage complete with lotion and a hot towel to seal in the moisture and wipe off excess lotion.

So, it came as a bit of a surprise in Florida that nail salons are harder to find, and they are not as meticulous. Most shocking to me is that after massaging lotion into my hands and arms I am asked to get up, walk over to the sink, and wash the lotion off! And this is despite the fact that they use a warm towel to wipe off your legs after a pedicure.

Though I realize these examples are a bit trite, those of you relocating for the first time need to be aware of how the tiniest and silliest of differences can often cause the greatest culture shock.

One of the most bizarre things about France (and wait, I LOVE France, so don’t take this the wrong way!) are the bath towels.  On my recent trip, I was both bemused and bewildered after every shower at how small the towels are – a bit larger than an American hand towel, and substantially smaller than the American bath towel.  The core difference – the French bath towel does not wrap all around your body (unless, perhaps, you are 6 years old), and generally speaking, they don’t seem to absorb a lot of water.

The only other place I encounter these towels is at my New York gym, where I end up taking 2 so I can at least feel somewhat covered on the way to and from the showers.

In either case, as I try to dry off, I always wonder why it is that there are not larger towels around, and how they continue to be used, or to exist when I just don’t understand, apart from taking up less space in a shelf, what purpose they have for the bath!

Were I in France, however, I can surmise that after a long day at work, running home and realizing I need groceries, and the only thing open is my local 24-hour market where prices are twice as much as the supermarket, and I look forward to a long, hot bath….and then step out and find myself shivering because my bath towel just about makes it over my shoulders, well, I might become a frustrated, homesick expat in that very moment with the water dripping on to my other bath towel which I am using as my bath mat….

You see, it is these very small peculiarities that can lead to the biggest bouts of culture shock and frustration.  If it happens to you, know that it is completely normal!  And, if you want to have a little less culture shock, you could always bring over your own bath towel…

What other tiny differences have caused you the most culture shock?

I was reminded of a huge cultural difference between American and French culture on my recent vacation in France.  (I told you, I’d be writing a bunch of posts about this, so bear with me!)  Here it is – Anger Management.

In the US, when you have a problem, and you go to customer service for help – be it for a dispute with a phone bill, a return, unfair treatment, or anything inbetween – there is a pattern and escalation process we all learn.  First, you state the problem.  If the representative helping you doesn’t immediately help you, or remedy your situation, you raise your voice.  If that doesn’t work, you request a supervisor – or, should I say, DEMAND, a supervisor.  You re-state the issue, and start screaming.  The louder you yell, and the higher you escalate, the more likely it is that you will get what you want.  As if you are an angry child they will do anything to placate.

In France, however, if you have a problem, and if you start yelling, the effect is completely the opposite.  You are ignored, treated like a 2-year old having a tantrum, and told “No, I can’t help you.”  I had to remember this when I had an issue with my flight on the return home.  When I phoned Air France in the evening, I got someone who, after a short conversation, told me she couldn’t help, right away.  She didn’t offer me any solutions, no other numbers, nothing.  I got upset, and she just repeated, “I can’t help you.” until I hung up.  The following day, at the airport, I remembered the culture, took a deep breath, and smiled my way through one hour of discussions with an Air France representative, a check-in agent, and her supervisor.  I remained calm, smiled, continuously thanked them for how helpful they were being, and they did what they could for me.  But, that was a hell of a challenge!  It’s pretty tough to tuck away years of cultural habits, even if you have to in order to get what you want.

For more help adjusting to new cultures, click here!

On my recent vacation in France, I took note of a few things that really stood out to me as culturally different. One of them was healthcare, and I realized, it’s not just how different the systems are, it’s how differently we behave in reaction to them.

In a recent post, I mentioned that I cut my finger open several weeks ago (sheer stupidity – literally, I was using sheers…) and had to go to the Emergency Room to get stitches. I was relaying this story to my host family in Normandie, and we were discussing how, if they have something wrong, or need a doctor, they just go, and it’s taken care of, that’s that. I recollected my experience, and couldn’t believe how ridiculous it was in comparison.

My finger was bleeding, it wouldn’t stop. I wrapped several layers of paper towel around it after it became apparent that ice wasn’t working. I prepared myself for the fact that I had to go to the ER. However, what did I do first? I got frantic over WHETHER OR NOT THE STITCHES WOULD BE COVERED BY MY INSURANCE! Yes, I was literally bleeding and shaking a bit at the fact that it wasn’t stopping, and my first reaction was to find my insurance card, call the number on the back of it, wait on hold, and ask not only if the procedure was covered, but whether I would be able to go to the hospital nearest my home, or someplace else! (Mind you, being able to use only one hand to do all this was somewhat of a challenge as well.)

My host family and I agreed that this was absolutely ridiculous, as they would have just gone and had it treated. They have no concept of in and out-of-network coverage, and the plausibility of paying thousands of dollars out of pocket if you fail to check in advance whether you’re covered.

Ironically, when I went to get my stitches out, I learned that I was NOT covered for this procedure by my insurance, unless I went to my doctor. So, I called my main doctor, and he informed me he does not remove stitches, and referred me to a surgeon. The surgeon was out on vacation, so I called the ER to find out if they would even charge me, and was told they would not. So, I went to the ER, waited 2 hours and the doctor felt my stitches were too trivial for his attention, and sent me a medical student who, yes, cut my finger with the scissors! So, I told her if she would show me what to do, I would do it myself, and I did.

The other interesting thing is that, in France, the people behind the counter at a pharmacy are all highly trained in medecine – the result, I have always felt very comfortable allowing them to diagnose my symptoms and take the medecine they advise, and it has always worked. In the US, however, those same people, in my esteem, are not as well studied or knowledgeable, and I would only allow my primary care physician to diagnose me.

What kinds of experiences have YOU had with healthcare in different countries?

One of the things that has bothered me since my time in France during the Gulf War is how much impact the media has on our perceptions – often helping us create detrimental perceptions based on partial truths.

I remember being in Paris during the Gulf War and my friends and family were all desperate for me to return home as quickly as possible because the news was showing how dangerous things were in Paris.  For me, all I noticed was that when I entered places like a bank, an official military guard was placed there and asked me to open my bag and display its contents.  So, though my day-to-day life went almost unchanged, my American friends and family was under the impression I was in grave danger.

I was in France again earlier this month, and my family again suggested I re-consider my trip since the news was indicating strikes in France, coupled with terrorist threats against France, would make my journey dangerous.  I noticed that if I tried to read a paper in France, there would always be something about the terrorist threat, and I felt a bit on guard.  But, in putting the paper down, I was able to live by my instincts instead.  In fact, I find that the media often interferes with our innate instincts, replacing them with fear, eradicating trust in ourselves when it comes to certain things like safety.  It is, of course, good to be aware, but my own experiences make me cautious to fully believe everything I read. Yes, there really were train strikes.  Yes, there were demonstrations.  Yes, I was vigilant and aware of my surroundings.  But no, I did not see the need to cancel my trip.

Years ago, I stayed alone in Marseille.  After dinner, as the sky darkened, and I walked along the city streets, I quickly surmised I was the only woman outside, or at least, the only one alone.  I ran back to my hotel, where I really was safe.  In our world today, where dangers exist every day, crossing cultures can bring with it a shift in how you experience your world around you depending on location, rules, etc.  However, you should always trust your instincts.

I have a habit of crossing during red lights which a friend recently pointed out to me.  She said it’s dangerous to cross at a red light.  That got me thinking.  The truth is, it’s dangerous to cross the street when cars are approaching you!  I explained to my friend that although I wasn’t right to cross at the red, I surmised that her feeling safe to cross at a green light meant she didn’t bother looking left or right when she crossed – something she would do at a red light.  She agreed, and was soon crossing whenever I did, even at red lights!

This whole experience got me thinking about rules and safety, especially while abroad.  I spent some time in Paris earlier this month and realized this is where I got my street-crossing habits.  Several times, though I had the right of way AND a pedestrian traffic light indicating I could cross, a car sped through nonetheless – thereby undermining my trust in the green light alone.  I’ve also been to Rome where one literally crosses the street at your own risk as cars do not seem to have any intention of slowing for anything but a turn, or their intended destination!

I think America is such a litigious society that our actions are made in the hopes of avoiding a lawsuit, whereas in Europe, it’s more “every man for himself”, so behaviors are different. 

So, I’m not advocating that you endanger yourself by crossing streets whenever you please, rather, think about the fact that safety goes beyond seeing a green light.

From talking to friends new and old, it seems that I may have a “boldness factor” to me, that not everyone does. When it comes to meeting people and making new friends, I am often unphazed by simply walking up to random people and starting a conversation. So, I share this story with you in the hopes that you can be inspired to say, “If Heather can do THAT, I can have the courage to meet one new person myself!”

A few weeks ago, I was in California.  I happen to have a friend who works for Apple.   He was kind enough to give me a tour of their campus.  So, we get me a name badge, then walk into the main lobby.  There’s this huge TV screen with apps all over it, and I am mesmerized.  My friend grabs  my arm, and pulls me towards it.  In a low tone, he says, “Don’t look, but that’s Steve over there.”  [Yes, Steve Jobs!]  My friend knows how I can be, so of course, I turn around and look.  There, on a couch, by himself, is Steve Jobs, working on his iPhone.  No one else in the lobby is talking to him, so I ask my friend why. 

He replies, “They’re too intimidated.”

So I ask, “Can I go talk to him?” [My logic here is that I doubt I will be in the same room as Steve Jobs too many times in my life.  And, to be in a room with Steve, where he is not in the midst of talking to someone else, is even less likely, so seize the moment!]

He answers, “Sure, just let me walk away from you so I can pretend not to know you.”

So, I walk over to Steve, I say, “Excuse me for interrupting you, but I think you make great products, and I thank you for your innovation.”

He looks up at me, smiles, says “Thanks!” and then returns to his iPhone.  Though we didn’t converse any further, I felt elated for having spoken to him.  AND, the next day, their stock went up 12 points!

So, the next time you feel a little shy about walking up to a stranger at a networking or social event, may you say, “I know someone who saw Steve Jobs as a stranger in a room and walked up to him.  So, I can certainly walk up to that person over there!”

For more ideas on how to meet new people, click here!