These 7 countries do things so differently, it’ll change how you see the world

I’ve been fortunate to travel a lot over the past decade—sometimes for work, sometimes for curiosity, sometimes just to feel disoriented in the best possible way.

I’ve eaten fermented soybeans in Tokyo convenience stores, biked across Dutch cities without a helmet (and lived to tell), and once sat for three hours over coffee in Porto because the café owner insisted “there’s no rush.”

And along the way, one thing became clear: most of what I thought was “normal” wasn’t universal—it was just familiar.

Every country carries its own definition of how time moves, how people connect, and what’s worth valuing. These seven places each do something so delightfully different that it stopped me in my tracks—and shifted how I think about everything from work to wellness to how we treat each other.

1. Japan – Respect woven into every interaction

The first time I arrived in Japan, jet-lagged and fumbling with train tickets, a stranger gently bowed and offered help without me even asking.

I was overwhelmed, embarrassed, and deeply grateful. That quiet, attentive gesture stuck with me—not because it was flashy, but because it was intentional.

I’d only been in the country an hour, and already I could feel the rhythm of respect woven into daily life.

In Japan, social grace isn’t a bonus—it’s foundational.

Whether it’s bowing, silent commutes, or the absence of public trash bins (people carry their garbage home), the culture of omotenashi—selfless hospitality—runs deep. Even convenience store clerks greet you like you’ve just stepped into a boutique.

This isn’t about rules—it’s about relationships. It’s a culture that sees the dignity in small moments and honors the group experience over individual expression.

Takeaway: Respect doesn’t have to be loud to be powerful. In Japan, it’s built into the quiet moments.

2. Sweden – Fika over hustle

In Sweden, there’s a ritual so sacred it has a name: fika.

It’s a daily pause—sometimes several—where people slow down for coffee, pastries, and actual conversation. No multitasking. No emails. Just warm mugs and warm presence.

Even high-performing offices honor it. The idea is simple: stepping away recharges your brain and your relationships. It’s not just coffee—it’s cultural permission to take a breath.

Pair that with Sweden’s emphasis on flat hierarchies, work-life balance, and generous family leave, and you start to see a different equation: productivity plus humanity, not one at the expense of the other.

Takeaway: Pausing isn’t lazy—it’s intentional. And it can make you better at what you do.

3. Bhutan – Happiness is a national metric

Bhutan is one of the only countries that measures success not by GDP, but by Gross National Happiness.

It sounds idealistic—but it’s very real, as you'll see when you get there.

Bhutan has implemented environmental protections, limits on mass tourism, and educational programs focused on mindfulness and cultural preservation.

The country is carbon-negative. Spiritual practice is encouraged. And decisions—economic or political—are filtered through the lens of well-being, not just wealth.

You feel it when you’re there. People speak slower. The air is cleaner. There’s a sense that life isn’t about optimizing—it’s about living.

Takeaway: Success doesn’t have to be measured in dollars. It can be measured in contentment.

4. Portugal – A slower life, by design

I once spent a quiet winter month in Porto, working remotely and renting a tiny studio above a bakery.

Every afternoon around three, the owner would knock and offer espresso and pastéis de nata. We’d sit in silence on the stoop or talk about nothing in particular.

He told me the secret to baking: “You can’t rush softness.”

That phrase stuck with me. Because Portugal, as a culture, doesn’t rush anything it doesn’t have to.

There’s a tempo here—devagar—that favors fullness over speed. Cafés are for lingering. Meals stretch out. Even professional meetings often begin with personal check-ins.

Takeaway: Slowness can be healing. In Portugal, it’s not inefficient—it’s human.

5. Netherlands – Bikes over cars, no big deal

The first time I biked through Amsterdam, I made the classic tourist mistake: I stepped into a bike lane without looking.

I didn’t get hit, but I did get a firm ding of the bell and a sharp look from the commuter whizzing by in heels and a suit.

Lesson learned: this city runs on bikes.

In the Netherlands, bicycles aren’t just for recreation—they’re how people get to school, work, dinner, and everywhere in between.

Bike lanes are wide, protected, and respected. Kids ride on the front of cargo bikes. Elderly people ride with baskets full of groceries.

And no one is huffing and puffing—they’re just living.

The infrastructure supports it so fully that it’s safer and faster to bike than drive in most cities. And without trying, the Dutch have created one of the cleanest, healthiest, and most community-oriented transit cultures in the world.

Takeaway: If you build the system right, sustainable choices become the path of least resistance.

6. South Korea – Beauty, tech, and collectivism

South Korea is a fascinating blend of ancient values and hyper-modern systems.

It’s not uncommon to see temples next to K-beauty shops, or elders bowing respectfully to cashiers while tapping NFC cards for lightning-fast payments.

Everything is designed for efficiency: food delivery is seamless, public restrooms are spotless, and digital integration is everywhere—from subway kiosks to medical check-ins.

But the real cultural shift is in mindset. South Korea prizes appearance, not out of vanity, but as a way to show respect for others. There’s a collective sense of duty to look your best, behave graciously, and uphold shared standards.

It can be intense—but it also creates a sense of shared rhythm and accountability that’s rare in more individualistic cultures.

Takeaway: Modern life can be fast-paced and collective—not just individual and chaotic.

7. Ethiopia – Time and calendars, reimagined

In Ethiopia, the clocks and calendars tell a different story.

The country follows the Ethiopian calendar, which is roughly seven years behind the Gregorian. And their clock starts at 6 a.m.—sunrise—as hour zero. So when it’s 7 a.m. by our standards, it’s 1 o’clock there.

Once, while traveling through Addis Ababa, I asked a local what time dinner was. “At 2,” he said. I showed up at what I thought was 2 p.m.—but I was five hours late.

We laughed, and he explained the system over flatbread and lentils.

It was one of the most generous meals I’ve had—and a reminder that time isn’t fixed. It’s social. Flexible. Negotiable.

Takeaway: Normal is flexible. Even time itself is open to interpretation.

Final thoughts

Travel doesn’t just show you new landscapes—it challenges the assumptions you didn’t know you had.

Every country on this list taught me something I didn’t expect: that respect can be silent, that slowness can be productive, that systems shape our habits more than willpower ever could.

So the next time you find yourself labeling something as weird, backward, or inefficient—pause. Consider that you might just be seeing a different version of wisdom.

The world is wide. Let it reshape you.