"Is it a gift?"

The streets today are envelopped in festive atmosphere. Hot sunshine, the coming of 14, July. What else to ask for? I decided to go for a walk to the bookstore on the main and only street in town.

I know I have perfect ability to communicate with people in French, but being out alone always makes me feel unreal. I look around, attempting to enjoy the fresh air, only with the stealthy pace of a thief. Others are just too occupied to notice me. It takes time I guess...

Before entering the bookstore, I thought of questions the ladies might ask me. Since this was not my first time there, I wasn't afraid at all of the situations I would encounter. Luckily, no one harassed me today. Not even the "May I help you?" sentence. Sometimes it's nice to be forgotten.

It took me much effort to choose a book I really felt like reading. I came across a new story by Amélie Nothomb, who is also the author of the film "Stupeur et Tremblements." Though any book can help me better my French, it's still wise to go for something worth reading.

I gave the old lady a look meaning "I'd like to pay." Everything was perfect in silence. Suddenly, she burst out a sentence after ringing the cashier. "Huh?" I uttered the question sound twice since I still didn't understand what she said the second time. She was forced to rephrase her question in another way. "Is it a gift?" I shook my head feeling embarassed. She must have thought if I were capable of reading Nothomb's novel, I should have understood her simple sentence. As a matter of fact, spoken words are much more difficult to capture than written texts, at least in my case.

Fortunately, it's not a trend here to keep foreign maids like in Taiwan, or I would be considered one sent by the family to go on errands. Strange to say, I had the same feeling when shopping in the most fashionable zone in Taipei. I was surrounded by circles of beautiful women with exquisite make-up. I was totally plain. We fought with each other to purchase the crystal accessories ruthlessly. Later I joked with friends that I might easily be mistaken as a foreign maid. So this out-of-place complex always exists. Perhaps when I return to my imagined "hometown" like Vietnam or Indonesia, I'll still think of myself in the same way.