Global Skills and Cultural Connections: What I Learn Between Snow and Sun

On some mornings, the world already feels “global” before I even start work.

In Southern Germany, where I live, I wake up to zero degrees and a thin layer of snow. My English teacher, sitting in South Africa, tells me it is summer there, but raining. I scrape ice from my car. She drives through thunderstorms. We are both looking at different skies, but speaking in the same language.

From this simple small talk about weather, we move into something bigger:
skills across cultures — how people live, work, and connect in different countries, and what we can learn from each other.

When I think about German culture, one of the first “skills” that comes to my mind is following rules.

In Germany, we like things to be clear and structured. At work, people come on time. Processes are important. We like to do things “the right way” and not “a little left or right.” For a regional salesperson like me, this can be helpful: customers trust that I am reliable, that I keep my promises, that I will be there when I say I will.

But there is another side.

When I travelled to England for a project, I saw a different skill: open communication. The English colleagues and even the taxi drivers talked easily. There was always conversation – about work, about football, about the city. In Germany, in a taxi, people are often quiet. You go from A to B and that’s it.

In England I learned something important:
Following rules is good, but connection often starts with a simple, human conversation.

Now, when I visit customers, I try to remember this. Many German customers answer only with “yes,” “no,” or “I don’t know.” It’s hard to build a relationship. So I try small talk first — the weather, their weekend, their family. Sometimes it works. Sometimes not. But I see that trust grows faster when the conversation is more than just business.

My work takes me through Southern Germany and Austria. The differences are small on the map, but big in the meeting room.

  • Germans: often quiet, careful, polite, but sometimes indirect. If there is a problem, they don’t always say it clearly.
  • Austrians: more direct. At my first meeting with a big Austrian customer, the purchasing manager began with, “Are you stupid?”
    It was a shock. But after this hard start, we could talk honestly about the real problems.
  • English people (from my experience): very talkative, friendly, and open to small talk; they ask questions and share stories.

And then there is South Africa, through my teacher’s eyes. People there are also mixed: some are strict about time, some are relaxed, and many live with big challenges like heavy traffic and unsafe trains. Their communication style changes with the situation and the community.

What I learn from this:

There is no “perfect” culture. Each one has a different communication skill:
Germany gives me reliability, Austria gives me honesty, England teaches me friendliness, and South Africa shows me flexibility.

In my job and my family, I try to combine these: be reliable, honest, friendly, and flexible at the same time. It is not always easy, but it is a good direction.

Punctuality is like a religion in German business life. Meetings start on time. Being late is uncomfortable, almost disrespectful.

But then there is our train company.

Our railway system has old tracks and many delays. Trains stop for work on the line, or just because something is wrong. You cannot trust them if you have an important meeting. So, I drive by car instead. Two hours to Munich? I leave at seven for a ten o’clock appointment, just to be safe.

In South Africa, my teacher tells me, it is similar but for different reasons:

  • A high-speed train exists, but only on a short route.
  • Many other trains are unsafe — people get robbed or attacked.
  • So, almost everyone drives.
    But the traffic is terrible, and a 1 hour 40 minute trip can easily become three hours.

Here is the interesting part:
Both countries value punctuality at work, but the reality of transport makes it hard.

This teaches me a quiet lesson:

  • We often judge people for being late.
  • But sometimes, it’s not laziness. It’s the system they live in.
  • A global skill, then, is not just being on time, but also being patient and understanding when others cannot be.

As a salesperson, this helps me when a customer is late for a meeting. Instead of getting angry, I try to think: maybe the traffic was bad, maybe their train failed, maybe their child was sick. Life happens everywhere.

When I was a student, we learned with green boards and old projectors. The teacher wrote with chalk; we copied into our notebooks. No internet at home. If I did not understand my maths homework, I asked my mother — but she had studied economics, not maths. Sometimes she simply could not help.

Today, my son’s generation is different:

  • In South Africa, my teacher’s son’s school sends homework via WhatsApp groups.
  • Parents can message the teacher: “I don’t understand this homework. Can you explain it?”
  • There are groups for the class, for the school, even for the tuck shop where you can order lunch.
  • For projects, children don’t go to the library first. They go to Google — or even ask ChatGPT.

This is both exciting and a little scary.

For me, one global skill here is learning how to learn:

  • Not just copying answers from the internet.
  • But learning to ask better questions.
  • Checking if information makes sense in real life.
  • Using technology as a tool, not as a replacement for thinking.

As a father, I want my child to be comfortable with technology, but also to keep some “old skills”: curiosity, patience, and the ability to struggle a little with a problem before asking for help. That struggle often creates the strongest learning.

Another big topic that came up in our conversation was immigration.

In Germany, we have many people from Syria, Ukraine, Iran, Turkey, and other countries where there is war or economic difficulty. Some are well integrated — like many Turkish families and my Portuguese friend who speaks German, English, and Portuguese and works hard to build his life here.

But there are also tensions:

  • Some people, both locals and immigrants, do not respect the police.
  • Some do not respect public spaces or other people.
  • This lack of respect creates anger on all sides.

In South Africa, it is similar in a different way:

  • There are immigrants from Pakistan, India, other African countries.
  • Some are legal, some are illegal.
  • They often take low-paid jobs, which creates frustration among locals.
  • Crime and unemployment make everything more sensitive.

It would be easy to say, “The problem is immigration.”
But in our discussion, we came to a different conclusion:

The real missing global skill is respect.

Respect is not about always agreeing.
It is about:

  • Treating police, neighbours, shop owners, and strangers like human beings.
  • Caring for the places where we live.
  • Understanding that people come from different backgrounds and stories.

Without respect, skills like communication, teamwork, or problem-solving cannot work across cultures. Respect is the foundation.

At the end of our session, my teacher asked a playful question:

“If cultures were colors, what color would kindness be?”

My answer was: a rainbow.

Why?

Because every culture has its own color — its own history, habits, and style. Germany is not like Austria. Austria is not like England. South Africa is not like Portugal. But kindness is not owned by one culture. It lives in all of them.

Some people prefer blue, others yellow, others green. It doesn’t matter. The rainbow is beautiful because the colors are different, not because they are the same.

For me, this is the heart of “global skills”:

  • Being proud of where you come from.
  • Being curious about how others live.
  • Holding onto your values — reliability, family, respect.
  • And still being open to change when you see a better way.

In my daily life — on the road between German towns, in Austrian meeting rooms, at home with my partner and child, or in English lessons with a teacher in South Africa — I am slowly learning to tell these stories in English.

And every time I do, I feel a little more connected to this big, colorful, complicated world we all share.

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