Self-consciousness feels different here

As much as I like traveling, I am conscious that one aspect of my character does not align well with it: I prefer to go with the flow of the environment and do not want to “raise a hand” or be the center of attention. It can be called a common aspect of human nature (we are at peace when surrounded by similar people), but staying low profile is either not an option or not ideal as a traveler, as you do need helping hands and curious eyes around you to discover the best local solutions.

This contrast felt clearer in Kayseri, a major city in central Türkiye that attracts few foreign visitors. On my second day, I spent the entire day in the industrial zone to get some overdue car fixes. It was an area where the majority of the people there were male mechanics, and the odds of communicating in English were close to zero. Before stepping into a restaurant for lunch, I had to take a brief “mental breath” before embracing the many curious eyes in the hall, while not knowing how to place an order. But as expected, things worked out, and I also received some waves from the schoolboys across the table.

During the following days in the city, I still felt like the only foreigner around, but I did not feel as self-conscious as I normally would in similar environments. This was a refreshing observation. I suspect it is because most of the interactions I had were filled with smiles and curiosity from the locals, which gave me confidence that my next interaction would go similarly. This experience weakened my mental association between self-consciousness and stress.

One time, I went into a shop to buy car parts. Even before we got down to “real business,” I was greeted with Turkish tea, and one of the men shared the sesame bread he was eating—a gesture I found especially warm and cute. Over the next hour, I watched a crew of six employees work together to find a solution for me despite the sheer language barrier. I am quite sure this was exceptional treatment given to a curious-looking foreign customer, but my subjective experience of that warmth will stay with me a long time. It will shape the way I view future human interactions and even the way I see myself. This may not be the best analogy, but throughout the experience, I kept thinking of the phrase: “It takes a village to raise a child.” It should take perhaps a lot more to bring about a change in how an adult sees the world.
I am aware that I might have been simply lucky; the positive experience I had could have been the fortunate product of how my external profile was associated with in this region. Even so, I am reminded how powerful kindness and curiosity are in any human relationship—perhaps more so among those who are “least foreign” to one another. I hope Turkish people are meeting each other the same way.

8 April, 2026
Kayseri, Türkiye