Tell people you're a Canadian or a Kiwi when you travel and

Daniel Gillies, with a touch of humor and worldly insight, once remarked: “Tell people you’re a Canadian or a Kiwi when you travel and they’ll adore you.” Though light in tone, his words reveal a truth about the power of reputation, kindness, and the invisible weight that nations carry in the eyes of the world. For in the great theater of travel, we are never merely individuals; we are also seen as representatives of our homelands. And some nations, through their character, humility, and gentleness, carry with them an aura of welcome that softens hearts and opens doors.

When Gillies speaks of being Canadian or Kiwi, he points to the image these peoples have earned across the globe: friendly, humble, unthreatening, and often admired for their quiet decency. Canadians, with their reputation for politeness and courtesy, and New Zealanders, with their warmth, humor, and respect for both land and people, have become symbols of travelers who bring peace rather than conflict. Thus, when one claims these identities abroad, strangers respond with goodwill, as though hearing the names of trusted friends.

The ancients, too, knew of such reputations. In Greece, to be known as an Athenian was once to be greeted as a bearer of wisdom, philosophy, and art. To be known as a Spartan was to be feared for strength and discipline. The name of a city, or later a nation, carried with it the deeds of its people, and travelers reaped the fruit of their forebears’ actions. In the same way, modern travelers find that their welcome is shaped not only by their own manners but by the history and spirit of their homeland.

Consider also the example of the Scandinavian peoples, whose nations today are often admired for fairness, equality, and care for the common good. A traveler from Denmark or Norway is met with a certain respect, not because of anything they personally declare, but because their countries are seen as peaceful, prosperous, and just. The goodwill of a nation becomes a shield and blessing for its citizens abroad. This, too, is the truth Gillies reveals: the character of a people is reflected in the treatment of their travelers.

But this wisdom is not only about nations; it is about the individual. For even if one cannot claim the mantle of “Canadian” or “Kiwi,” one can strive to carry the same qualities they are known for—kindness, humility, respect, and sincerity. The traveler who greets strangers with open heart and gentle spirit will often find doors opened and smiles given, no matter what passport they hold. In this sense, the quote calls us not merely to notice reputations, but to embody the virtues that create them.

The lesson, then, is both simple and profound: your identity travels with you. Whether you are abroad or among neighbors, you are always a reflection of something larger than yourself—your family, your people, your nation. If you carry yourself with humility and warmth, you build goodwill not only for yourself but for all who share your name. And if you carry arrogance or cruelty, you cast a shadow that others must live under.

Practically, this means choosing to be a kind of ambassador wherever you go. Listen more than you speak, respect the customs of the places you visit, offer gratitude freely, and extend patience in moments of difficulty. By doing so, you create the same effect Gillies describes: strangers will welcome you, even adore you, for you embody the virtues that the world longs to see.

Thus, O listener, take Daniel Gillies’ words as more than jest. To be loved abroad is not mere luck, but the fruit of character—whether inherited from one’s homeland or cultivated within oneself. Strive, then, to live so that wherever you travel, you are met with warmth, not because of the name of your nation alone, but because of the goodness you carry. In this way, you become not only a traveler, but a bridge between peoples, and the world, in your presence, becomes just a little kinder.