Woman Who Moved From A Small Norwegian Town To LA Lists 16 American Things She Finds Weird

I grew up in a small Norwegian town where the biggest daily drama is whether it’s going to drizzle or… drizzle with attitude. Then I moved to Los Angeles, where the weather is perfect, the palm trees are confident, and the freeway has the emotional stability of a toddler. I expected the obvious culture shock (hello, sunshine). What I didn’t expect were the tiny everyday “Wait, what?” momentsthings Americans do so naturally that nobody even thinks to explain them, like they’re born knowing the sacred rules of drive-thru etiquette.

This isn’t a dunk-on-America list. LA has been generous, hilarious, chaotic, and weirdly inspiring. But when you go from a place where you can leave your house without making a five-year plan, to a city where people casually schedule “traffic windows,” you start noticing things. Here are 16 American things I found weird after moving from Norway to Los Angelesplus what I learned once the initial culture shock wore off.

16 American Things I Find Weird (In a Mostly-Lovable Way)

1) Tipping feels like a pop quiz you didn’t study for

In Norway, you can eat dinner without doing mental math worthy of a NASA launch. In the U.S., the check arrives and suddenly you’re calculating percentages like your rent depends on it. In LA, tipping shows up everywhererestaurants, haircuts, deliveries, rideshares, even the little swivel tablet that asks you to choose between “18%, 20%, or donate your firstborn.” I learned quickly: tipping isn’t just a “nice extra,” it’s baked into how many service workers get paid. Once I understood that, it felt less like a personality test and more like a social contract.

2) The price on the tag is… not the price

The first time I bought something for $9.99 and paid more than $9.99, I thought I’d been scammed in the friendliest way possible. In most of Europe, taxes are included in the listed price, so your brain can relax. In the U.S., sales tax is added at the register, and it varies by state and sometimes city. LA is not the place to be surprised by math while you’re already carrying three bags and a coffee the size of a flower vase.

3) Portion sizes could feed a hiking group

Americans don’t “order lunch.” They order lunch and its sequel. The plates in many casual spots are enormousespecially compared to the more modest portions I grew up with. To be fair, leftovers are part of the plan here. People take food home without embarrassment, like it’s a normal extension of the meal (because it is). My rookie mistake was trying to finish everything, which is how I learned that “I can do it” is not a nutrition strategy.

4) Free refills are treated like a human right

“Bottomless” drinks are one of the most American concepts I’ve ever met, right up there with saying “How are you?” as a greeting instead of an actual question. In Norway, you buy a drink and that’s the drink. In LA, your iced tea is refilled before you’re emotionally ready to commit to more iced tea. It’s generous, it’s confusing, and it makes you wonder what the real business model is (spoiler: it’s usually the food, and fountain drinks are cheap).

5) Ice is everywheresometimes more ice than drink

Americans love cold beverages like the sun personally offended them. In LA, it’s almost a ritual: cup, ice, drink, more ice, existential reflection, more ice. In Norway, we’ll happily drink tap water without turning it into an arctic expedition. Here, a glass without ice can look suspicious, like you asked for your burger “in grayscale.”

6) Driving isn’t just transportationit’s a lifestyle (and a personality)

LA taught me that distance is measured in minutes, not miles. “It’s only 20 minutes away” can mean 3 miles or 13 miles, depending on whether the freeway gods are angry. In a small Norwegian town, you walk, bike, bus, or driveand none of those options require a daily negotiation with traffic. In LA, driving is the default, and planning your day around congestion is normal. I used to think a 10-minute walk was… a 10-minute walk. Now I catch myself thinking, “But where would I park?”

7) Right turn on red still feels like legal chaos

The first time I saw someone turn right at a red light, I assumed LA was doing a very casual interpretation of “rules.” Then I learned it’s allowed in many places (unless posted otherwise), and now I live with the constant feeling that every intersection is part driving, part reading comprehension. It’s efficient, sure, but it also feels like the road is asking, “Do you trust yourself today?”

8) Eggs in the fridge, always

This one is a classic Norway-to-America shock. In many European countries, eggs are often sold unrefrigerated. In the U.S., eggs are typically washed and then refrigerated through the supply chain, so they stay refrigerated at home too. The first time I saw an entire grocery store wall of chilled eggs, I felt like I’d entered the dairy section’s extended universe.

9) Bathroom stall gaps: why are we doing this?

I was not prepared for the American public restroom stall situation: the gaps, the doors that feel like suggestions, the odd sense that privacy is more of a vibe than a guarantee. Americans will casually continue life as if the stall isn’t basically a social experiment in vulnerability. Over time, I learned that there are practical reasons people mentionvisibility in emergencies, easier cleaning, cost, standardized partitionsbut my Norwegian soul still wants a sturdier door and a therapist.

10) Prescription drug commercials on TV are wild

In Norway, seeing medication advertised like a snack food would feel surreal. In the U.S., you can be watching a cooking show and suddenly a commercial tells you to “ask your doctor” about a medication you didn’t know existedwhile a cheerful couple slow-dances in a field. Then comes the rapid-fire list of side effects delivered like an auction. It’s equal parts fascinating and alarming, and it took me a while to accept that this is normal American TV.

11) Small talk is everywhere (and it moves fast)

Norwegians can be friendly, but we’re also masters of calm silence. Americansespecially in customer serviceare impressively chatty. In LA, strangers will comment on your shoes, your coffee order, your dog’s vibe, or the fact that your groceries look “healthy.” At first, I thought I was accidentally famous. Now I understand it’s a social lubricant: a quick, warm way to make interactions feel human.

12) “How are you?” is not a real question (most of the time)

This one took practice. In Norway, if someone asks how you are, they might actually want to know. In the U.S., “How are you?” often means “Hello, we are now interacting.” The correct response is usually something upbeat and short“Good, you?”even if your day is a full dumpster fire. It’s not fake; it’s more like conversational choreography.

13) The flag energy is strong

Americans display the flag in a way that would be unusual back home. In LA, you’ll see flags on houses, clothing, car decals, and at big events where everyone stands and the moment gets emotional fast. In Norway, we absolutely love our national day and our flags, but daily flag presence at this scale feels uniquely Americanlike patriotism is both a value and a decorating style.

14) The credit score system feels like an invisible report card

I came from a place where your ability to rent an apartment doesn’t hinge on a three-digit number that follows you around like a shadow. In the U.S., credit scores can affect loans, interest rates, and even rental applications. It’s a whole parallel universe of financial reputation. Once I learned the basicspay on time, keep balances low, don’t open a dozen accounts because you got a free tote bagit started to make sense. But the first time someone casually asked about my credit score, I almost responded, “My what now?”

15) Vacation time is not guaranteed (and that still shocks me)

In Norway, paid vacation is a normal part of working life. In the U.S., vacation is often employer-dependent, and many people start with limited days. Americans will say things like “I can’t take time off right now” with the same tone you’d use to say “I can’t stop gravity.” In LA, the hustle culture can make rest feel optionaleven though everyone’s clearly tired. Learning to protect downtime here is an actual skill.

16) Health insurance language sounds like a secret code

“Deductible.” “Copay.” “Coinsurance.” “In-network.” “Out-of-pocket max.” I felt like I needed a translator and a legal team just to understand a routine doctor visit. In Norway, healthcare doesn’t require this level of administrative decoding for most people. In the U.S., coverage is often tied to your job, and the paperwork can be intense. The biggest surprise wasn’t that healthcare costs moneyit was how complicated the payment pathway can be, with bills arriving at different times from different places like a subscription box you did not subscribe to.

What I’ve Learned: The “Weird” Stuff Usually Has a Backstory

The longer I’ve lived in LA, the more I realize most of these quirks exist for a reasonhistory, economics, geography, policy, or just habit. Americans aren’t doing these things to confuse Scandinavians on purpose (though sometimes it feels personal). Once you understand the “why,” the weirdness becomes less annoying and more… anthropologically interesting.

Quick coping tips for new arrivals (especially if you’re Nordic)

• Assume you’ll tip and build it into your budget, so it stops feeling like surprise math.
• Expect the final price to be higher than the sticker because of sales tax.
• Split meals or plan for leftoversit’s normal, and your fridge will thank you.
• Don’t fight LA traffic with hope alone. Check the map before you leave.
• Learn the basics of credit and insurance early. Future-you will be smugly grateful.

Extra: of LA Culture-Shock Experiences (From Fjords to Freeways)

My first month in Los Angeles felt like living inside a movie that kept changing genres. One minute it was a dreamy postcardpink sunsets, citrus trees, and people casually wearing sunglasses in December. The next minute it was an action film where I was the confused extra merging onto the 405 at rush hour, whispering, “I don’t belong here,” while a Prius and a luxury SUV performed a silent dance of passive-aggressive acceleration.

The earliest “American weirdness” moment wasn’t even big. It was the first time someone at a coffee shop asked, “How’s your day going?” with genuine warmth, and I froze because my Norwegian instincts said, Do they want the truth? Are we friends now? I gave a polite, slightly panicked summarysomething like, “It’s good, thank you, I am adjusting to… everything.” The barista nodded like I’d said something perfectly normal, then offered me a pastry recommendation and called me “hon.” That’s when I realized friendliness here is often a default setting, not a deep commitment.

Then there was the grocery store. I walked in planning to buy “a few things” and walked out wondering why one household would need a jar of peanut butter large enough to qualify as furniture. In Norway, bulk buying exists, but in the U.S.especially around LAthere’s a whole culture of “stocking up,” like everyone is preparing for an unexpected week-long snowstorm that will absolutely never happen. I learned to shop with a list and to stop making eye contact with the aisle that sells 48-packs of sparkling water, because it whispers, “You could be the kind of person who has it all together.”

My relationship with driving evolved too. At first I tried to keep my Norwegian habits: walking when something was close, taking public transit when it seemed possible. But LA has a way of turning “close” into “logistically complicated.” Sidewalks appear and disappear like a magic trick. A destination that looks walkable on a map may include an intersection that feels like a boss level. Eventually, I became the person who drives five minutes to pick up something, and I hate how convenient it is.

Still, the weirdness has become part of the charm. I’ve learned to love the big, open enthusiasm. I’ve learned that leftovers are a gift. I’ve learned that LA is a city of reinventionpeople move here to start over, start big, start weird, and somehow that makes my own culture shock feel less lonely. And honestly? Once you accept that your iced drink will always contain enough ice to preserve a small mammal, life gets easier.

Conclusion

Moving from a small Norwegian town to Los Angeles didn’t just change my addressit rewired my expectations of daily life. The U.S. can feel loud, fast, and full of unwritten rules, but it’s also welcoming, creative, and oddly endearing in its contradictions. If you’re an expat (or just a curious reader), I hope this list makes you laugh and maybe feel a little less alone the next time the checkout total doesn’t match the price tag. America is weird. So is Norway. The fun part is learning how both can be trueand still lovable.