This is quite an engaging discussion and I'll throw my experience in.
I'm 1/4 Arabic, 1/4 Turkish and 1/2 Polish. My name is Arabic though my very Catholic Mom had me baptized David. My Dad was a dietary Muslim - non-fundamentalist, simply a rational, caring, thinking man - and the best Christian I've ever met, rest his soul. He knew the Bible better than most churchgoers and (without malice but with a twinkle in his eye) would ask them questions most couldn't answer. He lived the Golden Rule and I think saw God as a very personal experience no one had a place to dictate. He stayed married to a devout Catholic over 40 years and was married in her church. Maybe he's a rare example or the ideas of 'abusive crazy muslims' are convenient media propaganda that I'm sorry to see stirred up here; c'est la vie. I grew up in America and have lived here my whole life aside from a few overseas vacations. I have no accent but can affect English, French, Italian, Indian, Southern at will.
Being more exposed to Polish than Middle Eastern culture (there was more SE Asian / Indian influence growing up with movies, food, family friends, etc.) and being raised on classic movies I got fascinated with fair-skinned women; redheads in particular. I've been in love with a Japanese, German (who was almost FOB from Germany and fell head over heels for me), Polish (twice), Korean, and several American-born 'white' girls. I don't define myself by my genetic inheritance, for better or for worse. Some people have their skin color and accent act as a glue in some cicles or a repellent in others. I like to understand a culture I spend time in as there is so much incredible variety and history.
I could move to any country, learn the language well and demonstrate that I belong there. In fact, that's what I'm doing and have been doing, largely inspired by Roosh and other RVF writers, plus every successful person I've read, met or heard about.
I got hate stares during the first and second Gulf wars. Our neighbor who we used to be on good terms with (binge drinker and Vietnam War vet) crashed into our new car one morning coming back from a bar apparently; he thought our driveway was his. Lied his ass off to the police about some kids stealing his truck, smashing it into our new station wagon then driving it down a hill into some rocks. His attitude changed from friendly, 'hey, watch our poodles when we're out of town and you can use our dark-bottom swimming pool' to cat calls, staring at me and my brother playing basketball, crank calls, exposing himself to my Mom and sister, calling the cops on our barking dog. It got insane. At 14 I started to feel what real hate and evil was like. Based on lies, misunderstanding and substance abuse not to mention propaganda (kill your TV - seriously). The first war apparently severely traumatized him and if he was in active duty I can barely imagine what that was like. Much as I respect what it takes to be a soldier, he had no right to take his anger out on us. I took all I could until, being the oldest - unfortunately my Dad not being a very confrontive guy having seen bloodshed in India as a boy during the peace protests with Ghandi - I decided to stand up for my dignity.
I had a show down with this asshole, toe to toe, at the edge of our properties staring into his blood-shot eyes, knees shaking, ready to throw up, screaming at him, daring him to throw a punch, do something or get the fuck out of my face! I felt a rage within me I never knew was possible, but it was in defense of those I loved who couldn't stand up for themselves. He backed down. No blows were exchanged, but he knew I wasn't kidding. 4 years of oppression all through high school, because of his stupid drunk ass parking in the wrong driveway. Within 6 months he and his wife moved away. The crank calls continued for a while then stopped. I got to see hate and stupidity first-hand, outside and feel it grow inside and work its way outside. Hate worked on me for many years until I couldn't stand what it was doing to me, but I could understand how other can go through a progression from misunderstanding to dislike to contempt to hatred. It's really ourselves we hurt the most.
We all have the potential to be saint or sinners. The only battle that really matters, the only place where it truly matters you 'do well in' is between your ears and inside your heart. Some of the most beautiful poetry in the world is from the poet Rumi, a Turkish sage of the 13th century.
Quote:Today, like every other day, we wake up empty
and frightened. Don't open the door to the study
and begin reading. Take down a musical instrument.
Let the beauty we love be what we do.
There are hundreds of ways to kneel and kiss the ground.
The breeze at dawn has secrets to tell you.
Don't go back to sleep.
You must ask for what you really want.
Don't go back to sleep.
People are going back and forth across the doorsill
where the two worlds touch.
The door is round and open.
Don't go back to sleep.
I would love to kiss you.
The price of kissing is your life.
Now my loving is running toward my life shouting,
What a bargain, let's buy it.
I spent two months in Poland last year. I did Pimsleur for months beforehand. I rolled dolo. I saw a good number of people giving curious looks, and a fair number of women giving IOIs. I dated a woman for two months (only expecting to stay there for a couple weeks) and had an incredible time. Met friends, got to feel really at home in the place. The store owners got to know me and knew what I liked. I felt like I belonged and honestly, it feels more like home than the US. My plan is to move there at least half the year. If my crazy plan does come together, I'll be there during the nasty Slavic Winter, to prove to myself I'm only partially ME and half Pollack

hopefully the best parts of each.
TL;dr - If you see youself as a color, everyone else will too. Respect the traditions and language of wherever you plan to visit. Who knows, maybe your story of 'so how come you're here?' will truly be a DHV.