Unexpected Discoveries I Made After Moving to France

Let me take you on a trip down the lane of culture shocks I experienced in France. 

To many from Western or European countries, this might sound strange. However, where I come from, mailboxes are only found at the main post office. It’s a communal setup, no one has a personal mailbox.

I grew up seeing mailboxes and post offices as outdated. In Kenya, we have physical addresses, but they’re usually for businesses, not specific homes or apartments.

If you need an important document, you don’t wait for the mail, it won’t come. You either go to the office or find it online. Couriers deliver to a business address, or customers arrange pick-ups via mobile phone.

So when I opened my first envelope in France, delivered to my personal mailbox with my name on it, I felt a strange mix of emotions. It seemed simple, yet oddly foreign, almost like stepping back in time.

To be honest, I sometimes feel the state could have easily sent much of the information by email. But another culture shock? The French love for paperwork.

When I tried to buy a French SIM card, I was genuinely shocked.

Back home, it’s simple, you walk into a shop with your ID and money, and just like that, you have your line. But in France? It was an entirely different story.

I had to provide proof of my home address, a bank account number, a work contract, and my identity card, all just to get a SIM card. At one shop, the customer care agent told me I need to have my own home address, not a rented apartment, just to get a phone number.

And it doesn’t stop there. To open a bank account, you need a physical address. To rent an apartment, you need a bank account. So how the heck is someone supposed to settle?!

When my colleague picked me up upon my arrival in France, I almost got into the driver’s seat, thinking it was the passenger’s.

She burst out laughing as I walked toward the car, and the moment I spotted the steering wheel, I understood why.

Here, the driver’s seat is on the left, and people drive on the right. Back in Kenya, it’s the opposite, the driver sits on the right and driving is on the left.

To date, I still find myself peeping inside the car first, just to make sure I’m getting in on the right side.

In France, you can’t just walk in and see a doctor anytime. You have to book an appointment through a mobile app.

Sometimes, you’ll have to wait a week, two weeks, or even months to see a specific doctor. And if you’re a foreigner, it’s even harder. Many doctors already have a full roster of regular patients, so they don’t take new ones.

That leaves you with two options: either exaggerate your symptoms or wait until things get worse and go to the hospital as an emergency. Only then can you easily get seen. It’s pretty crazy.

Back home, you can book an appointment for the next day over the phone, or just walk into a hospital and see a doctor right away. If I’m sick, I don’t have time to log into an app and wait days to find a doctor who’s available.

So, my trick? I head to a pharmacy, explain my symptoms, and hope the pharmacist’s recommendation works. Luckily, it usually does.

When I watched Emily in Paris, I never understood why Sylvie Grateau, Emily’s French boss, always took a smoking break. I kept wondering, what’s the point, and why smoking?

Oh, la la! As the French say. It all became perfectly clear when I arrived in France. Everywhere I walked, every street, every corner, I was greeted with a puff of smoke.  

Whether early morning or late at night, young adults or the elderly, male or female, there are no barriers whatsoever.

What also surprised me is that, unlike in my country, where people often give smokers judgmental looks for lighting up in public, the French are unbothered.

It feels like a smoker’s community, where regular smoke breaks at work are routine and unquestioned.

These days, I’m more surprised to meet a French person who doesn’t smoke.

Just when I thought I had seen it all, I encountered la bise culture. Greetings here come in the form of a kiss on the cheek.  

It was funny and strange to me because even when meeting someone for the first time, we would start and end with la bise. 

You go to a party or a dinner invitation, and you have to give la bise to everyone, even if you don’t know them.  

Even more interesting is that some regions in France do three kisses on alternating cheeks, while others do two.  

So, when I meet people, I never know if we’re doing two, three, a handshake or just a hi.