The moment you realize you speak Yiddish because you're fluent in German. Then moment that random chossid approaches you and starts small talk. Why? G-d knows! He asks if I am Chabad. I say yes. He wonders if there are any Jews in Germany. I haven't told him where I'm from, so it must have spoke around already (I spoke to a youngster before that). I find out that they (who, I wonder) send groups of charedim to slaughter meat in Poland which then is imported to Israel for the charedi community.
The moment they start eating semitchki in the airplane. We take off with a delay, but that funny feeling starts getting stronger and stronger.
Look up the term Fremdschämen, and then you will know how I feel right now.