Open your heart to difference. You may find something familiar.

We sat at a table at the Excelsior Coffeehouse, just blocks away from Tehrir Square – the epicenter in 2011 of the Egyptian revolution. I looked on as my youngest son grimaced at the taste of his first espresso. My middle son worked up the nerve to try Turkish coffee, a robust beverage traditional to the region. Under the watchful eye of our Egyptian guide, Khaled, my son slowly sipped his way to the bottom of his cup. Khaled had admonished him that if he was bold enough to order it, he would have to be bold enough to drink it.

We were in Cairo, literally thousands of miles away from Central Kentucky, immersed in both the foreign and the familiar.

When I was young, I moved from a big city in the North to a small town in the South. Everything seemed foreign to me, unknowable. It was disorienting to be surrounded by unfamiliar people, places and culture.

By the time I was 18, however, what had been unfamiliar had become home. Then I was again challenged when I left my rural North Carolina county to attend Howard University in our nation’s capital.

In the city, I learned, people didn’t speak to one another in passing on the street, and they didn’t exchange waves, nods or smiles as they did back home. In the city, I was unable to find things that were common in my hometown, like Krispy Kreme doughnuts (it was a regional brand back then); there was no Winn Dixie, no A&P, my first knowledge that grocery store chains were regional too.

But, like I did when I was little, I survived the initial shock, and I figured out this strange new place, and I thrived. We all learn and grow when we encounter people, places and situations that are different from those with which we are familiar. And the more exposure we allow ourselves, the more the fear of the unknown and the foreign dissipates.

In Cairo, my family encountered a lot that was foreign, but also much that was familiar. Our day that had begun at the coffeehouse ended with us in the town square alone. We were surrounded by people speaking other languages, some dressed in clothing unlike our own. Music echoed throughout the bustling town center. It was unfamiliar, but we were not afraid. We embraced the experience. Soon, Khaled returned with some local cuisine and we found a place to sit and eat. He said we were eating like real Egyptians and that made me proud of my family.

We all have a tendency to fear the “otherness” of people with whom we are unfamiliar, but those fears were replaced by shared humanity when we sat together with Khaled, whether in a coffee shop or on a sidewalk eating Egyptian sandwiches filled with sausage, liver or some other regional delicacy. It was fun and interesting, but it also broadened us to experience first-hand the humanness of people who may not eat the same foods, speak the same languages, or look the same.

Ultimately, in spite of all the cultural differences, we were reminded that all people have more in common than we often acknowledge. Yes, Cairo was different, but also familiar.

If everyone could travel beyond the place they call home, how much more understanding would this world be? My children were exposed to a place and people outside their own world and it transformed the way they see other people and the way they view themselves.

I know my family is fortunate; not everyone can travel to Cairo. But do what you can. If you live on one side of town in Lexington, plan a trip to a different part of town. Or venture down the highway to Richmond or Berea or Louisville. Try out a new restaurant (bonus points if it’s a cultural cuisine new to you).

Take a risk. Don’t be afraid, be curious. Cross borders. The unknown can be known and the process of discovery is half the fun. Open yourself to someone who is different, you may find something very familiar. You may find that stepping across borders is the best way to begin to tear down walls.

Tina Bryson is a writer living in Lexington.

This story was originally published February 26, 2019 at 2:08 PM.