She was caught inbetween: l'etranger that never fits in or cliquking with the foreigner befriended with her? Or, better, she can swim in between?
There came some times when she would be challenged to take sides, and during the times, she is always inclined to be indecisive. After all, identity is never a simple issue.
Right now, she is a foreigner that stays here shortly as an attachment; her new friends, however, directly assumed she is a native, whereas her old friends completely treat her as a foreigner and suppose she wouldn't mind being treated as one. New friends got puzzled when they learn her identity and the way she takes everything seriously, whereas old friends somewhat had a hard time grasping why she cannot let go of her identity issue easily and simply fit in or be mistaken as an native.
she is repelled by the idea of steretyping any person from any culture, but the truth is, perhaps everyone has an invisible cultural spinal backbone that shapes who s/he is.
As she is interpreting, her french amis corrected her with the pronunciation of several words. She chuckled and realized how meticulous they are when it comes to the language. As the tour went on, Italian tourists Louisa, Fred and Luka grew inwardly quiet, compared to the flirty and cheerful French tourists. Louisa speaks English quite well so she had no trouble making her understand everything she said during the whole tour, yet all the while she had to slow down her speech when she explained things to the French tourists. All's well that ends well. Eventually, she got a round of the merci applauds from everyone, but she kind of felt sorry for not being able stay a little longer and chatted with Louisa, who had her right there with the firm handshake before the tour.
A French dude stayed a bit of buoyant throughout the tour, managing to gather his thoughts in comprehensive English sentences. When giving tours in a beautiful afternoon, she is always thrilled to be showered with all sorts of questions regarding the history and architectural structure of the museum.
Back in the office, Louise patted her gently from behind, complimenting her well-manage time and interpretation. She thanked her for the enlightening tips and sharings.
Somehow, she reckoned recently she's learnt a lot from the sharings and the poise of these senior ladies. Then she got complicated feeling, being both grateful and alarming: is she looking for another surrogate mother in this new found land? Is she growing emotional attachment with these strangers? Is she retreating from growing to be independent, finding a way back into the womb, the oven,or the pouch? Is she becoming the needy foreigner that wobbles with confusions over her identities? Is staying at the place or with the same circle of friends rendering her identity fixated at certain level? Is the exposure of certain culture causing her the illusions of being accepted as a native? Just because she's comfortable with the culture and constantly be mistaken as the native, she is obliged to identify with the culture or the nation?
She couldn't give in, for she knows what she really is lies in her blood.