When I arrived in the south of France, I expected my first impressions to be about the beautiful Mediterranean Sea, beachside cafes as well as glamorous cities. I did not expect my first culture shock to happen during the drive. Driving here is unlike anything I have experienced before and adjusting to it has taught me many things about myself, my home culture and the culture here, in the south of France.

Back home in Germany, or even in Liechtenstein and Switzerland, driving is very orderly. Traffic rules are followed by most drivers, cars are kept well, the streets are orderly, and traffic etiquette is treated quite seriously. You do not expect cars to be full of scratches and dents. In the south of France, though, the driving culture tells a very different story from what I am used to. From my very first days on, I noticed cars with many dents and scratches were no exceptions but the norm. Parking happens anywhere your car can be squeezed into, often in ways where back home you will get a ticket immediately. And then one morning on my way to the university, there was a moment which truly shocked me: during the morning rush hour, a scooter crashed into the car in front of me, both drivers exchanged no words and simply carried on their way as if nothing had happened.

At first, I was shocked. How could both drivers stay so calm and be so casual about something as serious as a small crash? I found myself checking the mirrors even more to avoid such a situation myself. Over time, though, with my daily commute to the university, I encountered more situations like that, and my perspective began to change. What seemed like recklessness started to look more like a cultural approach to driving that reflects different values, values that contrast strongly with the ones I grew up with. And generally, it reflects a calmer approach to these stressful situations. Reflecting on this whole situation, a small dent or scratch in my car will not make any difference in my day-to-day life, so I can see where the approach comes from.

In the south of France, driving feels less about strict adherence to every single traffic rule and more about keeping the flow of traffic, some improvisation, making do with small streets and tight spaces and, strangely enough, trust. There is an assumption that everyone will just ‘make it work’, even if it looks messy from the outside. A dented car is not a mark of shame but a normal sign of daily usage. The relaxed attitude to small accidents or unconventional parking comes from a different relationship to order and perfection, one that accepts imperfections as part of everyday life.

This has made me think about my own cultural background in a new way. I realized how deeply I had internalized the value of precision, safety and perfection when it comes to driving. In German-speaking countries, orderliness is not just a preference, it is part of how we define responsibility, respect, and even self-image. A scratch on a car is often not treated like a minor inconvenience but rather a problem which needs to be fixed quickly. Cars at home are often also seen as a status symbol. Seeing how people here in the south of France shrug these things off has made me reflect on how much pressure we place on ourselves to maintain standards of control, perfection and the general image throughout something, which should be just a utility object.

There is something liberating in not treating every mistake as a catastrophe. In some ways, the leisurely approach to driving mirrors a broader cultural difference I have started noticing life here is less about rigid control and more about flexibility, improvisation, and being present in the moment.

Adapting to this has not been easy for me and I am still careful where to park my car or how to maneuver through tight passages. But I am starting to appreciate the lesson hidden in the chaos: that sometimes, perfection is less important than participation, and that it is possible to keep moving even when things do not go smoothly. Driving in the south of France has become more than just a daily commute to university, it has become a cultural lesson. The calmer approach of treating my car as a utility object, rather than something more, is something I will take home with me for sure.

In the end, what is most striking to me is how something as ordinary as driving can reveal deep cultural differences. It reminds me that intercultural learning does not always happen where we expect it to, but rather in everyday life events, like the morning commute to the university.