There are few things more terrifying than facing a room full of university students at 8:30 in the morning. Perhaps being chased by a pack of hungry wolves - but even then, the wolves would at least look more engaged.

Yet last week, I found myself in precisely this situation, perched on the opening panel of a conference (or, more accurately, a careers education day), attempting to ignite some level of interest in the bleary-eyed youth before me.

The theme? “Cross-Cultural Management.”

A rather fitting topic for someone who has spent more time navigating the quirks and contradictions of Croatian and British culture than most of the audience had spent walking the Earth.

Did I feel old? No. More like experienced.

And, as Julius Caesar so wisely put it, “Experience is the teacher of all things.” Even if your students are barely conscious. So, how does one inspire a generation raised on TikTok attention spans and avocado toast? Should I keep it serious and insightful? Or should I embrace the sarcasm, which, let’s be honest, is far closer to my core values?

Predictably, I chose the latter.

After all, nobody remembers the guy who plays it safe. “My columns started over 15 years ago with the idea of exploring the cultural differences between London and Dubrovnik, between the UK and Croatia,” I began, noting that my career in cross-cultural commentary had been thriving before many of them had even mastered the alphabet.

“We are 90 percent the same, but my columns ‘lived in’ that 10 percent.” It’s true.

The British and the Croatians share much more than they like to admit. But the differences—ah, those are the fun bits. The small, inexplicable moments of contrast, like the British obsession with queueing versus the Croatian belief that a crowd equals a competition.

Then there’s punctuality—or the lack thereof. In the UK, arriving five minutes late comes with a flurry of apologies and a panicked explanation. In Croatia, arriving five minutes late is considered wildly ambitious.

Ten to fifteen minutes is more reasonable. And let’s not even talk about bureaucracy—while the British might grumble about paperwork, the Croatian system elevates it to an art form. Kafka would have been impressed. But rather than dwell on the 10 percent, I argued, we should celebrate the 90 percent.

A novel concept in today’s world, where highlighting differences is almost a competitive sport. It’s far too easy to focus on what separates us, to fall into the lazy narrative of “us versus them.”

But in reality, whether you’re from rainy London or sun-drenched Dubrovnik, people are, at their core, just people. We all complain about the weather, we all struggle with bureaucracy, and we all agree that Mondays are, universally, the worst. The students nodded along, some even managing to appear vaguely awake.

Encouraged, I pressed on.

“The trick is not just to survive cultural differences but to embrace them. If you want to work internationally, travel, or simply have a fighting chance at avoiding an existential crisis when you inevitably get stuck in a foreign post office queue for two hours, you need to learn to adapt.” “So, what’s the solution?” I continued, leaning forward conspiratorially, as if revealing some long-guarded secret.

“You see,” I concluded, “cultural differences are like a relationship.

If you spend all your time nitpicking over the tiny irritations, you’ll never see the bigger picture. You’ll miss the moments of connection, of shared experience. And those are the ones that matter.”

A few students even smiled—small victories.

Of course, whether my words resonated or merely acted as background noise to their caffeine withdrawal symptoms is another matter. But if even one student walked away from that hall thinking, “Maybe I should focus on what connects us, rather than what divides us,” then my job was done. And if they didn’t, well—at least I provided them with a warm-up act before their first coffee kicked in.

Read more Englishman in Dubrovnik…well, if you really want to

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About the author

Mark Thomas (aka Englez u Dubrovniku) is the editor of The Dubrovnik Times. He was born and educated in the UK and moved to live in Dubrovnik in 1998. He works across a whole range of media, from a daily radio show to TV and in print. Thomas is fluent in Croatian and this column is available in Croatia on the website – Dubrovnik Vjesnik