I Moved to Ireland from the U.S.—7 Shocking Culture Shifts You Need to Know

From surprising pub etiquette to unexpected daily routines—discover the real Ireland through an American’s eyes.

Culture Shocks of Moving from New York to Ireland: A Personal Journey

By Hannah Rud Savita

Hello and welcome to my little corner of the internet, where we crochet, talk history, and embrace all things Irish! My name is Hannah Rud Savita, aka The Woman in Wool, and today I’m sharing a light-hearted reflection on the culture shocks I experienced when I moved from the suburbs of New York City to Dublin, Ireland, in 2016. This is my love letter to this incredible country, so let’s dive into the quirks and surprises I encountered along the way. Spoiler: No, my desk is still a mess, and yes, it’s freezing here!

A Bit of Background

Seven years ago, I packed my bags and left Westchester, New York, for Dublin. This wasn’t just a move across the Atlantic—it was a leap into a new way of life. My experience is unique, shaped by my suburban American roots and the specific slice of Dublin I landed in. It’s not a universal tale of every American moving to Ireland, but I hope some of these moments resonate with you. If they do, drop a comment—I love hearing your stories!

Moving to Ireland wasn’t a jarring, world-shattering experience, thanks to the warmth of Irish people and the fact that English is the primary language (don’t worry, we’ll talk about the Irish language another time). I came with an open mind, ready to embrace the Irish way of life while staying true to myself. Still, there were plenty of “huh?” moments that made me pause. Here are the top culture shocks I faced, in no particular order.

1. The Great Outlet Switch Debacle

Let’s start with the most unexpectedly frustrating thing: outlets. In the US, you plug something in, and it works. Done. In Ireland? Not so fast. Every outlet has a little switch you need to flip on, and I cannot tell you how many times I plugged in my phone at night only to wake up to a dead battery. For months, I was fuming over this extra step. It turned a mindless task into a mental hurdle. And don’t get me started on the lack of bathroom outlets—apparently, it’s a safety thing here, unlike the US where we plug in razors and hairdryers without a second thought. The different voltage and plug shapes didn’t help either. Let’s just say I learned the hard way to double-check those switches.

2. Cars and the Stick Shift Struggle

In the US, automatic cars are the norm. We call manual cars “stick shifts,” and I don’t know anyone my age who drives one. In Ireland, manual cars dominate. I don’t drive here (my US license expired, and I haven’t bothered with the Irish test), but if I did, I’d need to find an instructor with an automatic car—no easy feat. The idea of learning to drive a manual? Hard pass. I drive to get from point A to point B, not for the thrill, so automatic is my vibe. No shade to manual drivers—y’all do you!

Also, adjusting to driving on the left side of the road (or rather, being a passenger on the left) wasn’t too bad since I wasn’t behind the wheel. But every time I visit the US, I have to mentally recalibrate to avoid getting into the wrong side of the car. It’s like my brain needs a software update.

3. Words, Idioms, and a Whole New Language

Irish English is not American English, and the phrases here threw me for a loop. “Ah, sure look,” “you know yourself,” “what’s the story?”—these meant nothing to me at first. The phrase “come here to me” once had me physically walking over to someone, only to realize it just means “listen up.” And don’t get me started on “your man” or “your one.” In the US, “your man” means your boyfriend, so when someone said, “Your man at the post office,” I was like, “I’m not dating anyone at the post office!” Turns out, it just means “that guy.”

Then there’s the vocabulary: “toilet” instead of “bathroom,” “bin” instead of “trash can,” “footpath” instead of “sidewalk.” I switched to Irish terms to avoid the inevitable teasing (“Oh, trash can?”). Now, when I visit the US, I have to switch back, or my brother roasts me for saying “bin.” Oh, and greetings like “Are you all right?” confused me at first—in the US, that question implies something’s wrong, but here it’s just a casual “hi.”

One memorable moment? Three weeks into my move, I met a man hiking who looked like a caricature of an Irish person—tweed coat, flat cap, pipe, sheepdog and all. His accent was so thick I was convinced he was speaking another language. Spoiler: It was English, but I was not ready for that level of Irishness.

4. I’m No Longer “Italian”

In the US, diaspora culture means we casually say, “I’m Italian” or “I’m Irish” to describe our heritage. It’s understood that we’re American, just with Italian or Irish ancestry. My “I’m Italian” meant I ate lasagna at Easter and my DNA test says Italy. In Ireland, saying “I’m Italian” could imply I’m fresh off a plane from Rome. With actual Italians just a short flight away, I quickly learned to clarify: I’m Italian-American. It’s a different vibe—more Jersey Shore than Amalfi Coast. Adjusting my language around identity was a small but significant shift.

5. Slagging: The Irish Art of Roasting

Irish humor is brutal, and “slagging” (playful teasing) is a national sport. In the US, I thought I could handle banter, but Irish slagging is next-level. They’ll poke fun at anything—your accent, your jawline, your American-ness. At first, I took it personally, thinking people didn’t like me. Turns out, slagging means they do like you. It’s a sign of affection and respect if you can dish it back. I’ve been called “Yank” and fired back with “Paddy.” It’s all in good fun, but as a sensitive kid, I would not have survived an Irish high school. The zero-tolerance bullying policies in American schools didn’t prepare me for this!

6. School Systems: Uniforms and Segregation

In Ireland, most schools have uniforms and are single-sex, with Catholic elements like mass or religion classes. In the US, public schools are typically mixed-gender, no uniforms, and secular. Catholic or private schools in the US might have uniforms or be single-sex, but it’s less common. The Irish system felt like stepping into a different world. I’ve noticed some Irish men and women struggle to befriend the opposite gender, possibly due to this separation in school. It’s not universal, but it’s a contrast to the US, where mixed-gender schools are the norm.

7. Food: From Crisp Sandwiches to Tiny Portions

Food was a big adjustment. First, let’s talk about the crisp sandwich—a sandwich filled with potato chips (or “crisps”). I was horrified at first, but now I’m a convert. Chip sandwiches? Chef’s kiss. But portion sizes? A shock. In the US, portions are massive, and taking leftovers home is standard. In Ireland, restaurant portions felt tiny at first, though they were plenty. Fast food and movie theater snacks were another surprise. My beloved large Diet Coke from McDonald’s in the US was a bucket; in Ireland, it’s the size of an American small. Movie theater popcorn here is smaller, too, and lacks the buttery goodness I grew up with. No melted butter concoction—just salted or sweet popcorn (sweet popcorn is more like kettle corn, which isn’t a movie thing in the US).

European food laws also threw me. Red 40, a common dye in the US, is banned here. Even Subway’s bread was deemed too sugary to be called bread in Ireland—it’s legally a cake! As a 25-year-old used to ramen and cake in college, the lower sugar, salt, and fat content in Irish food was tough at first. But I’m healthier now, so thanks, EU!

8. Travel: Europe’s Game-Changer

Traveling from Ireland is a dream compared to the US. A flight from New York to Paris costs around $700, plus hotels, food, and time off work, easily totaling $1,500 for a week. In Ireland, I went to Paris for a long weekend in 2019 for €200, including flights, hostels, and public transport. No time off work needed. Even as an island, Ireland makes weekend trips to Europe accessible. In the US, travel is a privilege—expensive and time-consuming. I hate hearing Americans judged as “uncultured” for not traveling more. It’s not ignorance; it’s logistics. Europe’s proximity and affordability spoiled me.

9. The Weight of Irish History

The biggest culture shock was Ireland’s history. In the US, I knew American history and some world history, but Ireland’s story was new to me. From ancient Celtic heritage to Viking influences, I was vaguely aware of the “fairy tale” past. But the modern history—especially the last 100 years—hit me hard. I arrived in 2016, the centennial of the 1916 Easter Rising, and was thrust into learning about Ireland’s War of Independence, Civil War, and the Troubles. These events are recent. People my age have grandparents who lived through the fight for independence. The Troubles, ending in the ‘90s, still shape Ireland’s identity and generational trauma.

This was a wake-up call. In the US, 1776 feels distant; I don’t know my ancestors from that era. In Ireland, history is raw and close. Understanding this context helped me connect with Irish people and their experiences. It’s why this channel exists—to explore Ireland’s rich, complex past.

Bonus: The Trump Questions

I moved to Ireland the year Donald Trump was elected. Every taxi driver asked, “Did you vote for Trump? What’s that about?” Explaining the Electoral College at 2 a.m. to a tipsy driver who visited New York in 1986 was… challenging. Many assumed Americans were “stupid” for the outcome, ignoring that Hillary Clinton won the popular vote. It was exhausting, but thankfully, political questions have tapered off since.

Bonus: Public Transport Freedom

Public transport in Ireland was a revelation. In the US, outside of New York City, cars are king. I drove everywhere in the suburbs and even in Miami, where public transport is nonexistent. In Ireland, trams, buses, and trains opened up the country. I could live in the suburbs, work in Dublin, and take weekend trips to Cork or Belfast without a car. It was freeing and made me feel independent in a way I never did in the US.

Final Thoughts

Moving to Ireland wasn’t without its challenges, but the culture shocks were more amusing than overwhelming. From outlet switches to crisp sandwiches, I’ve grown to love the quirks that make Ireland unique. This country’s history, humor, and heart have shaped me, and I’m grateful for it.

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