Something wasn't right. I was halfway through the burger before I got anyone's attention.

"Soy?" I asked, hoping this simple, one-word question would overcome the language barrier.

"No, beef." Being a vegetarian, this was not the reply I wanted to hear. However, based on the texture and taste, I wasn't surprised.

I was on tour in Japan, tired from travel, fatigued from the language barrier, and wanted a meal before heading to the hotel. I had ordered a vegetarian burger, but even in Japan you're rolling the dice with fast food. They brought me the vegetarian replacement, which I consumed in short order, and headed out.
Growing up, I didn't travel much. Funds were always a bit tight, and my parents only had so many vacation days at their disposal. Summer camping trips were the only time I left our small town, and to this day, those summer experiences remain some of my favorite. But the lack of travel meant limited exposure to other cultures.
Summer travel with my grandparents were some of my first road trips across state lines. My brother, uncle, and I would squeeze into the back of whatever oversized, eighties era sedan they had at the time, destined for somewhere beyond the mid-west.
Years later, I traveled to Europe with a group from my high school. Everything changed during those three weeks we spent in Munich and Vienna. I rode the subways, tried new foods, and met lots of people. Wanderlust set in, and I knew this trip was just the beginning.
After college, I spent years honing my craft as an audio engineer and began touring with bands, which allowed me to travel extensively. The early years were all domestic travel. I passed through every major metro in the country numerous times, eventually visiting all fifty of the United States. As my career progressed, international travel became the norm, allowing me to see a great cross-section of the world. Although primarily focused on work, these travels allowed me the opportunity to experience many different cultures. I wandered the tiny streets of Golden Gai in Tokyo, sipping drinks alongside people in business suits who smoked cigarettes and drank whiskey. In the Middle East, I visited a Mosque and learned about the rituals associated with prayer. I dined on hot pot with the locals in China. And I met many people along the way. I had friends to call whenever I stopped in San Jose, or Seattle, or Singapore.
Along with stamps in my passport, I collected stories to tell. Over time I gained a better understanding of other cultures, and I began to see the world through a much different lens. Most of the small-town folks I grew up with didn't have much interest in leaving town. They considered New Yorkers crazy people willing to pay way too much to live in a crowded area. And who would want to live in Los Angeles with all that traffic? It's all concrete and weirdos! I understand their opinions; when I was younger, I felt the same way. But I grew to love these places and began feeling uncomfortable and lonely when I visited home, even in a room of familiar faces.

On one trip to the Middle East, I visited a local tailor. About the size of a modern-day walk-in closet, the old shop was filled with fabrics. The shop owner stepped out from behind a small, cluttered counter to take my measurements. He didn't speak English, and I didn't know his language, but with a little help from someone who could translate, I was able to tell him what suit I wanted. I couldn't help but think that if this shop owner were to walk the streets of several American cities, he would get several side-eyed stares. Many people would be unwilling to help him because he couldn't speak English. But here in his homeland, he was a master of his craft, working to make ends meet like the rest of us. And by the end of the day, I had my very own custom-tailored suit.

I've walked into restaurants many times throughout my travels, only to walk right back out because they didn't have an English version of their menu. Being hungry but unable to read the menu doesn't even cross people's minds when they're waiting behind someone at a restaurant. Instead, most folks are short on patience, tempers flare, and someone makes an unpleasant comment about how long it's taking.

"If they're in our country, they should learn the language!"

I've heard this said in the United States more times than I can count, but I have to disagree with this opinion. Having been the foreigner in several challenging situations has taught me to see things differently, to be understanding, and more patient. We need to consider what others may be experiencing before passing judgment.

Visiting other countries, seeing people with their families who are just trying to get by just like the rest of us, has changed my perception. When someone I know says something mean or disrespectful to a foreigner simply because they're a foreigner, I lose a little respect for that person. 

Travel is the ultimate education, and throughout my years of international travel, I've seen many things that others haven't seen. Been places they haven't been. In no way does this make me superior, but it does make me different. Unfortunately, when I speak about my journeys, it often invokes nothing more than jealousy, and people falsely perceive me as condescending or pretentious. But I have stories to tell, and telling these stories has the potential to make others stop and think. We should all take a minute to consider what others might be going through in any given situation before making a quick judgment and treating them with disrespect. We may be different, but we're all human.