Between Two Worlds: Finding Your Place Abroad

Many expats arrive with the intention of “living like a local”, often inspired by holiday experiences, romantic images, or assumptions about the place they’ve chosen.

It sounds logical. You move abroad, and naturally you want to become part of a different way of life, something that feels richer or more aligned with what you’re looking for.

There is also a genuine intention behind it: respect for the people, the culture, and the place you are entering.

At the same time, this idea is often reinforced by blogs and social media, where moving abroad is presented as a smooth transition into a new lifestyle.

But the real question is:

How realistic is that expectation in daily life?

You don’t start from zero

What becomes clear quite quickly is that you don’t arrive in Puglia as a blank page.

You bring your own background with you, your habits, expectations, and way of organising life. And those don’t simply disappear because you’ve changed countries.

I noticed it in small, everyday things: how I relate to time, how I expect things to be organised, or how I interpret communication. Things that felt completely normal before suddenly stand out in a different context.

For example, something as simple as dinner can feel completely different. Even in winter, evenings often start much later than I was used to, and plans tend to unfold more spontaneously. Being “on time” is more flexible, and even sitting outside in the cold can feel like the most natural thing here.

Over time, I’ve come to see that integration is not a reset.

It’s an adjustment.

Of course, not everyone comes to Puglia for the same reason.

Some are here to build a new life and are naturally more open to the local environment. Others focus more on a project or investment, or divide their time between different places. And there are also those who arrive with more practical or personal reasons for leaving their home country.

All of these are valid in their own way.

But they often lead to very different ways of relating to the place you live in.

The approach I describe here will resonate more with those who are looking to build a life here in Puglia, not just to stay.

Only then can you decide how to relate to the cultural differences.

Not by judging it immediately, but by choosing consciously: to adapt, to follow, or sometimes not.

Awareness before adaptation

What has become more important to me over time is not so much the idea of “living like a local”, but something more practical:

Being aware.

Aware of the cultural differences you encounter in daily life.

And that awareness doesn’t come automatically. It starts with observing, using your senses, noticing what people do, how they behave, what they find normal. It also means asking questions, being curious about the meaning behind certain habits, and sometimes simply taking the time to understand where things come from.

Only then can you decide how to relate to the cultural differences.

Not by judging it immediately, but by choosing consciously: to adapt, to follow, or sometimes not.

In daily life, it’s often in the small things

I’ve noticed this in many everyday situations.

Something simple like food and habits around it. In Italy, beer is often the natural choice with pizza, not wine. I still enjoy a glass of wine with it, but I’m aware of the difference, and sometimes make a small joke about it. It becomes a way of connecting, not distancing.

Or how people dress. Italians tend to be more attentive to how they present themselves in public. Going out in shorts and flip-flops is far less common than many expats might expect. Once you see it, you realise that even small adjustments can change how you feel and how you are perceived.

Even seasonal habits, like the ´cambio armadio´, reflect a shared rhythm you only start to notice after some time.

And then there is time itself. Evenings often start later, dinners even later. We found our own way: eating earlier at home, and then joining friends without needing a full meal. It works, and nobody questions it.

Understanding instead of reacting

Sometimes the differences are less visible, but more confronting.

I remember receiving a fine, only three years after an apparent offense, and with an incomplete explanation. My first reaction, very Dutch, was frustration not only about the unnecessarily high amount but even more at the unclear handling of the matter. It simply didn’t make sense.

But instead of trying to solve it alone, we spoke with local friends.

And that changed a lot.

You realise that Italians themselves deal with these situations, often feel the same frustration, and know how to navigate them. What initially feels like a problem becomes at least a way to understand how things actually work here.

In that sense, even a fine can become a kind of lesson. Though not the preferred one…..