Xenophily or xenophilia means an affection for unknown/foreign objects or people. It is the opposite of xenophobia or xenophoby.
I would definitely consider myself to be a xenophile. My love for foreign things began at a young age when I became obsessed with everything that was French. Later, I lived and studied in Paris as an important part of my universtity degree. My xenophilia became even greater. In fact, it was at that time in my life when I knew that I had to leave the UK and live abroad. I still get aroused by hearing French, and speaking it. It was my introduction to xenophilia and you never forget your first love.
Even then, my foreign fetish needed to be fed and fed to the maximum.
As a UK ex-pat, I have discovered that having sex with a foreigner is not simply about enjoying an exotic bed partner; it is closer to being a cross-cultural learning experience. Getting it on with someone that I can barely communicate with in words never gets dull. Although I love to contrast my white skin, red hair and green eyes with dark skin, black hair and brown eyes, it is not just about that “Benetton Effect”. For me, sex is best when it is enjoyed while speaking a different language to your own. That is something I absolutely adore.
I can also get off on speaking a different language than my own each and every day. The best thing about it is learning to flirt effectively. I also enjoy playing word-games, making up my own puns and translating English proverbs and colloquial expressions into Spanish. In Spanish they might sound correct but they make little or no sense to natives.
Also, being an ex-pat means that I usually end up attracting other xenophiles, especially anglophiles. Some of them assume that I will give them free English lessons but they are always out of luck. In my xenophile sexual encounters I always play the student and never the teacher.
I am very selective when it comes to the type of native that I am drawn to. Those that retain a regional mentality never make the grade. If a native is curious about the world outside of their barrio then I am interested in them. Ideally, they will understand what being a foreigner is all about, have lived abroad for a few years and be able to speak 3 or 4 languages. Anyone who displays no interest in broadening their geographical horizons is not for me.
In my experience, foreigners dress differently and display a range of impressive manners. When I am with them, I can not help picking up their subtleties and wanting to learn everything that they can teach me.
At the height of the holiday season here in Spain, generic UK holidaymakers become more apparent in Barcelona and I am ashamed of them. When I see those sun-burnt hooligans moving around the ramblas wearing socks with their sandals I try not to let them see me.
Even after so many years in Spain, I still have a list of my favourite English words. I love them more when I hear them from the mouth of a UK native, spoken in the manner of an eloquent, well-spoken English teacher. In fact, It has been so long since I lived in the UK that what was once common-hearing English-has now become irresistibly exotic.