3 Tiny Cultural Quakes That Redefined My Normal (Part 1)

Moving countries isn’t just about changing your address. It’s about rewiring your senses and expectations. When I traded the chaos and colour of India for the order and charm of Germany, I thought I was merely moving continents. It turns out that I was also moving the goalposts on what “normal” means. Here are three stories- each a little tremor that shook up my world, made me laugh at myself and helped me find a bit more home in the contrasts.

Spicy Curries → Kartoffelsalat

Back home, the kitchen was my comfort zone-armed with cumin, coriander, and a dash of flavourful chaos. My first grocery run in Germany was a treasure hunt for those holy trinity spices. Lidl and Aldi had cumin, but it tasted like cumin’s distant cousin who’d never left Europe. After a heroic attempt at curry (complete with a frantic call to my mom for the “real” recipe), I ended up with something that tasted like a plot twist. That was my last attempt at curry for a while. Now, my “curry” is oven-roasted veggies: olive oil, salt, pepper, and a guilt-relieving layer of mozzarella. The best part? The result is always predictable. I may have lost the drama of Indian curries, but I’ve gained the comfort of a baked salad that never lets me down.

Takeaway:

Sometimes, fusion isn’t about perfection. It’s about laughing at your Franken food and finding a home in the mess.

Monsoon Chaos → Snowfall Serenity

If Bangalore’s monsoon was a wild party, Germany’s snow is a silent retreat. In India, rain meant chai, street floods, and a secret thrill in the chaos. I’d brave the puddles for a hot cup at the nearest stall, sharing laughs with fellow rain warriors. In Germany, snow hushes the world. The city slows, the noise drops, and suddenly, there’s a kind of peace I’d never known. I swap chai for coffee, watch the flakes fall, and when the sun peaks, I’m outside with my son-sledding, snowball fighting, and soaking up the stillness. The best part? The sun on fresh snow is pure magic, like nature’s own Instagram filter.

Takeaway:

I learned to dance in the rain and find peace in the snow. Adaptation isn’t choosing sides but expanding your toolkit.

Auto-Rickshaws → Fahrradwege

If you’ve survived Bangalore traffic, you can survive anything except, maybe, your first German bike lane. Back home, honking was a language, and carpooling was a way to make friends (or frenemies). The chaos was exhausting, but it had its own camaraderie. In Germany, I rediscovered the joy of getting around on two wheels. My son and I now cruise the Berlin bike lanes: he on his tiny cycle, me on mine, both of us learning the art of silent, rule-bound commuting. At first, the orderliness was unnerving. Now, I find freedom in the predictability. Traffic rules are my new religion, and I’m proud to say I’m a pro at navigating the labyrinth of Fahrradwege.

Takeaway:

I miss the camaraderie of chaos, but I’ve learned to love the freedom of predictability.

Leaving you with this…

Cultural whiplash isn’t a bug-it’s the feature. Each small shock, whether in the kitchen, on the street, or under the weather, reshapes not just habits but perspectives. The beauty of blending cultures is in finding comfort in the contrasts and realizing that “home” is something you build, one tiny quake at a time.

If you’re on your own journey between worlds, embrace the surprises. You never know which culture quake will lead you to your next favourite ritual or your next favourite version of yourself.

This was first instalment of my “3 Tiny Cultural Quakes That Redefined My Normal” stories. Stay tuned- more tales of adaptation, confusion, and discovery are coming your way in the weeks ahead!