I moved from New York to Berlin. There were 3 cultural differences I loved — and one that I didn't.

After spending six years in New York for school and then work, I started to worry that if I didn't make a hop across the pond soon, it might never happen at all.So, when a close friend who had just moved to Berlin started encouraging me to do the same, I knew that my opportunity for life in Europe had finally arrived. There was just one hitch in my plan: Other than what I'd learned in history classes, I knew next to nothing about Berlin.It was never the type of place I had envisioned building a home in, but I made the leap in 2017, figuring I'd find a way to adapt — even though my German was limited to "ja" and "nein."There was a definite learning curve when I first arrived, but I soon discovered there are some things Berliners just do better.I eventually left Germany for France, but there are a few things about Berlin culture that I still miss now — and just one cultural custom I'm happy to go without.When I lived in New York, going out usually meant donning the tightest dresses and highest heels, only to listen to mediocre house music while being leered at by a bunch of creepy men. As a result, I rarely liked to go clubbing.I was aware of Berlin's famous nightlife scene when I first moved there, but my previous experiences hadn't exactly left me eager to dive in.Thankfully, my friends gave me the push I needed to try it out anyway — and I'm so grateful I did. After some time in the city, I quickly became a fan of clubbing.In Berlin, clubs often don't have strict dress codes, and it's more common to see folks in sweats and sneakers than dressed to the nines.I find the interiors of Berlin clubs generally more comfortable, too. Sure, you can dance the night away, but there are just as many areas to kick back and relax.Best of all, privacy is prioritized, and taking photos is generally not allowed, so what happens in a Berlin nightclub truly seems to stay there.Recycling in Berlin isn't optional. I found the system to be much more elaborate than New York's, and I was more likely to get dirty looks and comments from neighbors and strangers in Berlin if I didn't recycle properly.The rules were initially tricky for me to navigate. Apartment buildings typically have four different recycling bins: one for glass, one for paper, one for plastic, and one for compost.What's more, it's considered common etiquette to set empty glass bottles next to public trash cans rather than in them when you're out and about. Bottles can be deposited for money, so setting them beside the trash helps people in the city who collect them earn some cash.If you fail to do any of this correctly, there's a considerable chance you will be yelled at by strangers on the street — something that, unfortunately, I've experienced firsthand.Before moving to Berlin, I'll admit that I could be lazy about my recycling habits. Although it's not nice to be shouted at, I appreciated how social pressure helped me develop better habits.I was quite the public transportation pessimist after six years of trying to get around New York. I'd been burned by too many late subways and buses that never showed at all.I'd been told I could expect smoother public transit options abroad, but I didn't understand just how much better it could be until I moved to Berlin.There, I never waited more than four minutes for a subway, and I can count on one hand the number of times a train no-showed or was rerouted. Additionally, getting from point A to point B was often faster and involved fewer transfers.In the rare instances my usual line wasn't working, I also had plenty of other modes of transportation to choose from, like trams, buses, and commuter trains. These alternatives felt just as reliable as the subway, which also wasn't always the case in New York.Long before I ever moved to Berlin, I had an encounter with a Berlin-based American expat who warned me that Germans "don't do small talk."I understood exactly what he meant on my first grocery shopping trip after arriving. New York cashiers might have engaged in a little light convo, but the German clerk before me was having none of that.Over time, I came to accept that a perfunctory "hello" and "goodbye" was the most I'd get in situations like this, even though I missed the casual chit-chat I'd grown to love back home.Social settings, like clubs and bars, are a little different. There, you can talk to strangers, but they'll typically skip over the cursory comments about work and weather in favor of cutting straight to deeper topics, like passions, fears, and desires.I admired the willingness to develop a more profound connection, but never felt wholly at ease without small talk to smooth over my initial awkwardness.So, even though there was a lot about Berlin I wish I could take with me, there's nowhere like home for a quick, breezy gab.