I am not thrilled by fruits, vegetables, or non-European countries. I wouldn't say I hate them--not at all. I love a good peach or a salty baked potato. I will even occasionally order tomato basil soup at a restaurant. But I don't want to talk about a side dish involving green beans. I won't ever care passionately about that, unless it is au gratin. I don't write down recipes for salad. That's just the way it is with me.
In much the same way, non-European countries do not excite me. I feel that I would probably like most actual countries and the people from the country--I certainly bear them no malice. But whenever people tell me, "Oh! You should read blah blah about a blah blah from blah blah," I think to myself, "I'm never going to read that." And I make no mental note to read it, even though I might say to my well-meaning friend, "Oh, thanks!" If I know the person pretty well I will tell them, "Look, I appreciate the recommendation and it sounds great but I just don't really like books about the Middle East or The Orient or South America or the Pacific Islands or even, really, Hawaii. It's not you. It's me."
There's lots of stuff that does thrill me--but I have to be discriminating, you know? So if it doesn't thrill me I have to cut it out of my life. I've done this with eye shadow, bento boxes, Soduku, So You Think You Can Dance, sports, and age defying. Life's too short, people.