Cultural Shock at Home

Hello from Marseille,

I’m French — born and raised. But here’s the twist: I left in my early twenties and spent two decades abroad, first a decade in Mexico City, then another in New York. I became an adult elsewhere, built my career, had my children, and lived daily life in cultures that weren’t originally mine.

And then, at 45, I came back to France. You’d think “coming home” would feel natural. Instead, I had to learn how to be French all over again.

Don’t get me wrong, I love it here! For the first time in my life, I can make jokes in my own language and people actually get them without me explaining. But at the same time, I’m definitely not 100% French anymore. I carry pieces of Mexico and New York inside me, and that sometimes makes me feel like a foreigner in my own country.

Here are the cultural shocks I’ve run into over the past two years — some frustrating, some hilarious, and all of them reminders of how complex “home” really is.

The art of complaining

In NYC, people are direct but upbeat. In Mexico, warmth is the default. In France? Complaining is a national sport. From the weather to politics to the price of bread — even about their friends — and you’re expected to join in. If you’re too cheerful, you sound suspicious.

The weirdest part? Shop owners sometimes complain about their own products. More than once, I’ve had someone sell me something while saying, “Oh, it’s a bit too expensive…”

At a party, I expect to eat cheese before dinner

In France, meals follow invisible but strict rules. And cheese is never served before dinner. It comes after the main dish, often with lettuce, and before dessert.

So when I show up hungry at a party and eye the cheese platter at 7pm… well, I’m in for a long wait.

Personal space vs. Proximity

In Mexico, strangers hug you (el abrazo). In NYC, personal space is sacred. France? It’s somewhere in between. People do the bises (kisses), but then keep a polite distance.

Except when it comes to kids. In Marseille, where we live now, people are much more Latin and warm. Our local fruit-and-vegetable guy always runs toward our children, scoops them up, kisses them, tickles their bellies — and then leans in, insisting they plant a kiss on his big bearded face in return. I know it is pure good intention, but I don’t like it. (American readers: I can already hear you gasping.)

The rules of politeness

In New York, “Hi, how are you?” is just polite small talk. In France, though, “Bonjour” is the magic password. Without it, you’re invisible. But be careful: add too much, like “Bonjour, comment allez-vous?” to a stranger, and suddenly you look suspicious.

And small talk? Forget it. In New York, I used to get annoyed when strangers on the street would stop me with random comments like: “OMG, I love your shoes!” But now? Arrgh, I actually miss it. Nobody would EVER say that in France. You’ll catch me showing off my shoes in plain sight, fishing for a compliment — but nothing.

Business meetings

In Mexico, you never start a meeting without asking about family — how’s your grandma, how are the kids doing in school? That warm, personal touch is the base of any business relationship.

In New York, it’s the opposite: meetings are lightning fast. Time is money. You have an idea, I like it, let’s execute, and if we fail, we’ll fix it later. Boom.

And then there’s France. Mon dieu ! You have a meeting… then another meeting… to confirm the first meeting… then maybe a follow-up meeting to confirm the confirmation. It drives me crazy. I’m not patient, I like when things move forward. Here, it often feels like ideas take forever to become reality.

In truth, it’s not that one style is better than the other — they’re just different. In France, decisions are rarely made in the first meeting; discussions are more about debate and gathering inpu. It’s a slower, more deliberate process, in contrast to the rapid, execution-oriented style of New York.

Healthcare culture shock (in a good way)

After U.S. healthcare costs, going to the doctor in France feels like stepping into a parallel universe. A consultation costs less than a New York latte.

I still get the urge to leave a tip (nobody does, obviously).

The pace of life

New York is rush-rush-rush. Mexico City is chaotic but somehow flowing. France? Shops close at lunch, everything shuts on Sundays, and right now, in August the entire neighborhood disappears on vacation. (Paris is the exception.)

My first year in Marseille, I was outraged. Coming from New York, where you can buy literally anything 24/7, this felt medieval. Two years in, though… I get it. It’s frustrating, but it’s also kind of luxurious.

School vacations

This one almost broke us. French kids go to school for six weeks, then have two weeks off. Which means every two months, parents suddenly have their kids at home for half a month.

Our children are still young, so we basically couldn’t work properly. Even if you don’t travel, you have to find camps, activities, babysitters… It’s a logistical nightmare. Every project gets interrupted halfway through.

Coffee size shock

After years of giant New York cups, I came back to France where coffee is a tiny thimble-sized espresso. Even the “allongé” feels like half a cup.

I usually need three just to feel human.

Talking about success

“Success” means something different depending on where you live. And I don’t mean money — I mean finding your purpose, reaching goals, building the life you want.

In New York, ambition is celebrated. People set high goals, talk openly about achievements, and if you succeed, everyone says: Good for you! Same in Mexico, people tend to admire when you’ve reached something you worked for.

In France, though, it’s different. Talking about achievements often comes across as bragging. There’s almost a sense of shame around success. When we moved to Marseille, I’d mention that I had lived ten years in Mexico and another ten in New York, and the reaction was usually: “Aha, you’re very lucky!” But no — it wasn’t luck. I made it happen. I left my safe place at 20 to explore the world.

I know some French readers might take this the wrong way, but this is an honest feeling: here, success is often downplayed, while in other places it’s seen as motivating and inspiring. For me, that contrast was a real cultural shock.

Positive education (not quite there yet)

This is a harder one. Coming from Mexico and New York — and even comparing to Australia, where my husband is from — France still feels behind when it comes to positive education.

I’m often shocked by how harshly some parents talk to their kids in public. Don’t get me wrong, it’s much better than it used to be, and things are evolving. But compared to other countries, France is still catching up.

Voilà…that’s my list

If you ever plan to travel to France — or even live here — these are good things to keep in mind. They don’t make France better or worse, just different. And cultural shocks are healthy: they force us to rethink our habits, our ethics, and the little rituals we take for granted.

For me, living through these shocks has been a reminder that identity isn’t fixed. I’ll never be 100% French again — but that’s a good thing. I hope I can mix the best of what I’ve learned from Mexico, New York, Australia (through my husband), and France itself. It’s a patchwork, and it’s richer because of it.

Thank you for reading :)

—Maud

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