Weird Things that Happen to Foreigners (that Shouldn’t)

Image credit: Olya Kobruseva

I’ve lived outside my country of origin more than once in my life, and now plan to live in a foreign country for the long term.

In the process, I’ve discovered that when you live as a foreigner or immigrant, certain things happen regularly that you’d wish would happen differently—for several reasons.

And as I saw these things happen to my French husband in the United States of America, where we met, these aren’t just the experiences of a U.S. American living in Europe. (Moi.)

Here’s the list I’ve created of weird, sad, frustrating, or embarrassing things that happen to me as a foreigner—along with the reasons why I find them problematic and what I wish people would do differently.

That is, of course, if people care to do things differently. (I hope they do.)

Asking “Where are You From?” as the First Question

Upon hearing my accent, most people immediately ask about my origins. (I’ve even had this in the United States—and I’m a born and raised United States American—because, they explain after displaying their surprise, that I look or sound different… or something.)

If you have this same habit, I can assure you that the people you’ve asked this question have answered it several times that day—and every day, unless they only have conversations with people they know. (These people already know the answer, because they also asked it upon first meeting.)

What’s wrong with this, you wonder?

Asking about a person’s origins the moment you meet them makes them feel like an oddball, as though they stick out like a sore thumb. When I get this question, I immediately wonder if my accent comes across even worse than I’d realized or if I somehow look like a fish out of water. Suddenly, when I might have felt completely normal seconds before, I feel awkward.

Second, a person’s origins—especially given that the person has likely had the same conversation multiple times that day or week—will not generate an interesting exchange. (This assumes, of course, you want a conversation with the person and aren’t just being nosy.) As foreigners have had to answer this question endless times and as it often makes people feel awkward, they’ll give you a very flat, very basic answer.

In my case, I respond, “I’m from the United States.” After which I try to change the subject.

Hey, I love when people have genuine interest and curiosity in other people. And I recognize that when someone looks different or has an accent, this question comes to mind.

However, reconsider asking it—at least in the moment after you meet someone. Establish some rapport first. Ask about other aspects of their lives. Often, in telling you a story about their past or their family, they’ll voluntarily share with you their place of origin.

If you do feel a pressing need to ask, I still recommend that you chat a bit and then reference something specific (and not offensive, note) that clues you into the fact that they grew up somewhere else. If they say something like “where I grew up” or “for holidays, we often ate [insert culturally specific food here],” you have a prompt for your query.

And if you still don’t know where to begin when it comes to initiating exchanges, I’ve written this refresher article on starting conversations.

Going Full Stereotype

Either shortly after learning a person’s country of origin or at some point early in the relationship (though I’ve found this can continue longer than I’d imagined), people tend to lean far too hard into stereotypes of the person’s place of origin for questions, personality or preference assumptions, or jokes.

A contact from Vermont who lives in Switzerland shared that he regularly gets asked about Ben & Jerry’s Ice Cream—and even has had people ask whether he knows Bernie Sanders (the senator from Vermont). Also, as someone from the United States, he regularly gets asked about school shootings and training for school shootings.

It turns out he met Bernie Sanders once and yes, schools in the United States have active-shooter drills. However, the latter doesn’t make for a very fun topic to discuss with a stranger and the former seems like a bit of a dead end. (No, someone from the United States doesn’t know everyone else from the United States—or even the same state in the United States.)

An English person told me that he’s regularly asked about what the royal family is like (he has no idea), whether he drinks tea (yes—and?), and if it’s true that English police officers don’t carry guns (it is—and?).

Another English friend living in France said she gets questioned about the royal family all the time. She doesn’t follow royal-family news at all and, genuinely, doesn’t care about any of it.

Someone of Indian origin in France said that people feel compelled to point out to her products or things from India, along the lines of fascinating conversation starters like, “This rice is from India!” and “I love yoga!”

From French people in the United States, I heard that they get regular requests for wine recommendations and have to endure and pretend to find amusing the same tired jokes that the teller thinks they haven’t heard umpteen times, including “oh, you French love to quit, don’t you?” and “you’d speak German if we hadn’t saved your asses.” (Both these lovely “jokes” reference, obviously, the two world wars.)

As for people from Germany, you can imagine the things they’ve told me they hear about both world wars, concentration camps, Nazis, and people spontaneously shouting the German words and phrases they’ve heard from Nazi characters in films.

I can’t tell you what to do differently when it comes to this problem—because you simply need to realize that stereotypes can offend people and that even the most anodyne stereotypes don’t describe any one person fully.

The best advice I can give you to avoid falling into the stereotyping trap is to think a moment before you ask or say something. Does it come from an informed position or does it rely on stereotypes to force conversation? (I know you can find something more interesting or more kind to say.)

Maintaining that You Know More about Their Culture than They Do

People who lean heavily into stereotypes—especially the ones not fully cognizant that they are leaning heavily into stereotypes—often want to tell foreigners about their countries and cultures as though they know more than the native person does.

Perhaps some people do—I have no doubt there are people outside the United States who know far more than I do about many aspects of it—yet rarely do the people who take this stance have credentials to support their purported expertise, based on my experiences.

Regularly, I encounter people who want to tell me about the United States—in “let me give you a lesson, missy” tones—or about how “Americans” are—as though we don’t take multiple forms.

Not long ago, at a dinner party, two men wanted to argue with me about U.S. history and culture when I had verifiable facts to refute their arguments. One refused to listen when I cited examples and counterexamples and another told me it might “appear that way” to me, but I just didn’t “actually know.” And no, neither of them had concrete evidence to prove me wrong.

Years ago, I had someone shout me down about how often people in the United States have cookouts. (Of all things, I know.) He told me that people in the United States have cookouts at least once per week, and typically twice a week or more. I countered that while some people certainly might, I didn’t know many people who did cookouts weekly. He got rather worked up and indignant and told me—catch a theme here?—that I “just didn’t know.”

Okay, but… I was born and raised there and have even lived most of my adult life there. And in several different parts of the country, too.

But yes, certainly, clearly, they were the experts. (Need I say that none of these experts I’ve encountered have spent much time in the United States?)

For all these reasons, I do everything I can to avoid telling people I grew up in Texas, because when I do people pretend to shoot pistols at me and ask about horses, indigenous people, western movies, and all the rest. And they want to argue with me about my responses.

Where can I even begin with this?

Look, if you want to talk to someone about their culture, that’s awesome. Just ask questions—especially questions informed beyond the stereotype—keep an open mind about what you hear, listen to the responses, and assume the other person knows more than you do.

Need an example of an informed question? As an avid reader, I often try to ask something related to something I’ve read in a book.

One possible example: “I read XYZ’s book set in Jamaica and it gave me an entirely new perspective on ABC event. I’d love to hear your perspective.”

And if you don’t know enough to craft an informed question, consider it an opportunity! Ask something showing your interest in learning more: “I’d love to know more about XYZ; I know very little about it. What’s something you find really interesting or surprising about your home country that I should know?”

Caveat, though: Don’t then argue with them about what you hear, even if it goes counter to what you’d assumed you knew.

Foisting Them off onto Other People from the Same Country or Culture

Since when is someone from your same country—even the same part of your country as you—exactly like you?

Heck, how about even people from the same school? Did all your schoolmates get along swimmingly? (I can’t say I did with mine, to be honest.)

Yet, unfailingly, people will say they need to introduce me to other people from the United States when they learn I’m from the United States.

Typically, the topic comes up shortly after we’ve had an initial conversation—one in which they’ve asked where I’m from, of course. After perhaps a bit more chit-chat, they then say something like, “Hey, I’ve met someone else from the United States! I’ll get their info so I can introduce you.”

Recently, this subject came up days later, after I texted someone I’d met at an event with whom I thought I’d had a good conversation. She responded to my invitation for a walk by saying that she wanted to introduce me to someone from Canada and someone else from the United States that she had just met.

I felt a little ostracized. This person’s response to my suggestion that we get together was, effectively, that I get together with other people that I assume she figured were “more like me.”

Foreigners know a lot of people from their home country. Guess what? I grew up in the United States, went to school there, worked there, and my entire family lives there. I know a lot of people from the good ol’ U.S. of A.

Further, foreigners have no problems meeting other people from their own culture no matter where they live—sometimes because of local networks of people from the same culture and sometimes because foreigners constantly want to foist them off on other people they consider “like them.”

Maybe you don’t want to get to know this person or befriend them—and that’s okay. But do as you do with other people you don’t want to get to know, and politely take your distance. Don’t try to awkwardly hot potato them to someone else.

Not Including them in Anything

I can raise my hand on this one. Shortly after I moved to Houston as an adult, I met a Japanese couple who had just arrived for a two-year stint for the husband’s company. He spoke decent English, but the wife only had a few words—though she had hired a private teacher to learn as quickly as possible.

We had a few dinners together, and I really enjoyed them. However, when it came to including the couple in events with other people I knew, I decided more than once not to invite them because I didn’t want them to feel embarrassed by the language barrier or lost when it came to conversation.

Wrong move, Leslie.

Clearly, this couple wanted to practice their English and meet people—including local people. They’d made this clear through reaching out to me regularly, inviting me to dinner, and so forth. They didn’t want to hang out only with other Japanese people and wanted to spend more time immersed in English-language environments—as well as learning more about culture and customs in that part of the United States, I’m sure.

And, albeit with the best intentions, I excluded them.

People consciously or unconsciously put together groups of people for activities and never consider the foreigners. Or, if they consider the foreigners (as I did), they actively decide not to invite them to spare them feeling awkward or out of concern they won’t like or won’t fully follow the conversation, the overall social dynamic, or the activity involved.

Trust me, it feels a lot more awkward for someone not to include you in activities.

Foreigners—most of us, anyway—would love to meet more people, including people from the local area and other cultures. If someone has moved all the way to a different country, you can bet they don’t fear the new and the different. If they chose to move, they likely love new experiences. If they didn’t choose to move, they’ve experienced enough new stuff by the point they meet you that they’ve grown fully accustomed to it.

Including people from elsewhere in activities only broadens your horizons—and theirs. More connections, especially across cultures, makes this world a better place. Who doesn’t want to participate in that?

Oh, and if a foreigner invites you to something, join them if you can—even if you don’t know their culture or language or friends. You won’t feel as uncomfortable as you think, and you’ll likely have a lot of fun.

(Side note: People connect easily at game nights, though people from other cultures won’t have a level playing field with the group if you don’t choose your games wisely. Consider mixing in some of the options I’ve outlined in my list of games to try for multicultural groups.)

Criticizing their Language Capacity or Level of Assimilation

Language learning and overall cultural assimilation take time. Any foreigner you meet likely is working on both, albeit with varying levels of intensity in any given moment.

However, if you don’t include foreigners in anything, decline their invitations, and push them off on other people from their culture or who speak their language, how do you expect them to progress with their language ability or their cultural assimilation? (For an examination into why many foreigners don’t learn the language to fluency level, read an article based on a bit of research into the language-learning question.)

Maybe you don’t criticize immigrants’ language learning and cultural understanding to their faces, but trust me: We hear it and see it in the media—traditional and social—overhear it on the streets and in the stores, and catch the universally critical local zeitgeist on the subject.

Look, no one uproots their entire life, moves to another part of the world, and then wants to live there for years on end feeling like an unwanted outsider. Most foreigners you meet really do try. (And if you don’t want to believe that, think on it a minute. Why don’t you want to believe it? What direct proof do you have of the contrary?)

And as a corollary to the overall social criticism about foreigners not learning the language or culture, comes its weird flip side.

Because while foreigners get criticized for not assimilating, they also get criticized for assimilating.

Foreigners regularly encounter people shocked that they can speak the local language—and even get asked in an “aren’t you silly” tone why they’d bothered to learn it. I’ve had more people than I could have ever imagined ask me why I went to all the effort to learn French.

It feels like you just can’t win.

If you lean toward these sorts of criticisms, you need to meet more foreigners. Consider inviting one to coffee. (I promise you have foreigners somewhere in your life. You won’t have to look hard to find someone to invite.)

You need more exposure to people who are struggling to master a language to fluency level and get up to speed and situated in a new culture. Unless you’ve tried to do either, you don’t realize how difficult it is.

And when the foreigner accepts your offer to share a moment together, reflect: Clearly, this person wants to practice the language and meet and connect with more people in the area.

Not signs of someone who doesn’t want to learn the language or connect with the culture, right?

Treating Foreigners Like Idiots

It happens constantly, especially when someone speaks with an accent or doesn’t speak with 100 percent fluidity: Locals will talk to them like children (and not in “inside voices”), like idiots, or like Martians.

Either they use broken speech to imitate baby talk—in other words, slowly, with bad grammar, and loudly—or they feel a need to explain simple things that occur in situations not linked to something culturally specific or even unusual. I’ve overheard people describing how store credit card machines work and that you need to buy children school supplies before classes begin, for two examples. I’ve experienced someone explain in toddler language to a grown adult that they need to buy a stamp to mail something. (None of these people seemed to need help in the moment.)

Do not assume someone is simple, clueless, or uneducated because the person has immigrated from somewhere else, even if they haven’t yet mastered the local language or have a strong accent.

Talk to foreigners as you’d talk to anyone else.

If someone doesn’t understand something about the world around them, they’ll likely ask someone they trust to give them a response that doesn’t make them feel stupid.

However, if you think someone may have misunderstood something linguistic or cultural and doesn’t have someone nearby to help them navigate a situation that needs navigating in that moment, you can ask them in clear, simple, slang-free language—but not by shouting baby talk—whether they understand or need help. If you seem sincere enough and treat them like an equal, they may trust you enough to tell you the truth and accept your help.

Assuming they Can’t Understand You

The things people say around foreigners, thinking they don’t understand the local language, would shock you.

Perhaps they assume someone’s foreign because they speak to someone else in another language, have a different skin color, or dress differently. For whatever reason, when someone thinks a person is foreign, they then de facto believe this person cannot understand them when they comment in the local language on the person’s hair, body, clothing, or what they have in their shopping baskets.

And even if you have made it evident that you speak the local language—especially with a strong accent, broken grammar, or missing vocabulary—don’t assume this will spare you the brutal commentary.

Instead, people will assume that your low level of language skills (in their estimation) prevents you from understanding what they say. I’ve had people working in stores say awful things about me or even to me—and that’s after I addressed the person in French.

Let me assure you: Conversational ability and accent softening comes long after the ability to understand what someone says. I could understand French long before I could respond effectively.

Further, when my French improved enough that I could communicate reasonably well and could understand nearly perfectly, I often still spoke with friends and my husband in English when out and about. Even if you hear someone speaking a language different than the local language, you should assume the person has at least some functionality in the local language, too. Hearing someone use another language does not mean that person cannot speak more than one—including yours.

Just assume that everyone around you always can understand you, even if they have a different look or speak differently.

And really, even if something nasty crosses your mind, why do you need to verbalize it in any language? Kindness is a good practice in general.

Changing Perceptions

All these issues happen to me weekly, at least. Sad to say, but true.

I’ll probably have more to add to this list, the longer I live as a foreigner.

Do I think this post will miraculously change things? Absolutely not. But if it makes one person think or behave a little differently, that counts.

I’d love to hear from other immigrants, too. If you live in a country different from your country of origin, what things happen to you all the time that you wish happened differently (or not at all)?