Between languages
1130 Words
The cafeteria was louder than Mina expected.
Not chaotic, just alive.
Voices overlapped in quick Korean syllables, trays clinked against metal rails, chairs scraped against tiled floors. The smell was unfamiliar but inviting something spicy, something sweet.
Mina stood at the entrance holding her tray a little too tightly.
“Okay,” Sofia whispered dramatically beside her, “we survive this, and we can survive anything.”
Mina gave a small nod.
This wasn’t like the classroom. There were no structured introductions here. No professor controlling the flow, just hundreds of students moving with the confidence of people who belonged.
She inhaled slowly and stepped forward.
The food displays stretched longer than she expected, stainless steel containers revealed dishes she had only seen in K-dramas.
“What is that?” Mina muttered, pointing at something bright red.
“I guess that's kimchi” Sofia said.
“You think?”
“I'ma k-drama freak silly.”
Mina grinned. “Prepared queen.”
They moved along the line.
Rice, Soup alongside side dishes Mina couldn’t name.
When it was Mina’s turn, the cafeteria lady spoke rapidly in Korean.
Mina froze.
“I... sorry” she tried carefully in Korean. “Can you repeat that?”
The woman repeated herself, only slightly slower.
Mina caught fragments.
Spicy level...side dish choice, something about extra portion.
Her mind scrambled.
Behind her, someone shifted impatiently.
That familiar heat crept up her neck again.
Then, A calm male voice spoke smoothly beside her.
“She’s asking if you want mild or regular spice, and if you’d like extra kimchi.”
Mina turned.
It was the boy who had been sitting two rows ahead in class earlier, not the rude one. This one had watched quietly.
He offered the cafeteria lady an easy smile and responded in fluent Korean on Mina’s behalf.
The tension dissolved immediately.
The lady nodded and served the food without further questions.
Mina blinked, slightly embarrassed.
“Thank you,” she said quickly in English.
He shrugged lightly. “It happens. The first week is always… overwhelming.”
Sofia leaned forward dramatically. “Are you our official savior now?”
He laughed.
“Lucien,” he introduced, switching to English with a faint French accent. “Exchange student. From Paris.”
“Oh!” Sofia gasped. “I knew it. You had that European calm.”
Lucien chuckled. “That is the first time anyone has described me that way.”
Mina finally smiled properly.
“I’m Mina.”
“Sofia,” Sofia added.
“I know,” Lucien said. “From class.”
Mina raised an eyebrow, “You were paying attention?”
He tilted his head slightly, “Hard not to.”
There was something in the way he said it not flirtatious, just observant.
They paid and moved away from the line together.
They found a small table near the window.
Lucien placed his tray down across from them.
“I hope you don’t mind,” he said.
Sofia gestured grandly. “Please, We need a language translator.”
Lucien laughed softly.
Mina adjusted her chopsticks, still slightly awkward with them.
“So,” he said, picking up his spoon easily. “You handled yourself well today.”
Mina looked down at her rice.
“I was only correcting misinformation.”
“You did it calmly,” he replied. “That’s rare.”
Sofia nodded enthusiastically. “She’s secretly terrifying.”
“I am not.”
Lucien smiled faintly. “You are precise and It’s different.”
Mina considered that.
Precise.
She preferred that.
Then they began eating.
Lucien demonstrated how to balance rice and side dishes properly. Sofia tried to copy him and failed immediately, causing all three of them to laugh.
The food was layered and unfamiliar.
But less intimidating now.
“Do you speak Korean fluently?” Mina asked.
Lucien nodded. “I’ve been here two years already.”
“Two years?” Sofia repeated. “So you’re basically local.”
“Not quite,” he said. “But I’ve learned when to pretend.”
Mina appreciated the honesty in that.
They talked easily after that.
About classes, professors and how brutal the grading system could be.
Lucien leaned back slightly at one point.
“You know,” he said thoughtfully, “this department respects bold concepts, But they test you harder if you’re different.”
Mina met his gaze.
“I assumed.”
“Good,” he replied. “Then you’re prepared.”
She wasn’t sure if she was.
But she liked that he didn’t sound pitying,
Just realistic.
Halfway through the meal, Mina’s phone buzzed.
Her mother.
She hesitated, then answered.
“Hello, Mommy.”
Her voice softened instantly.
Lucien and Sofia instinctively lowered their volume.
“How is it? Have you eaten? Is it cold? Are people kind?” her mother asked rapidly.
Mina smiled faintly.
“Yes. I’ve eaten, I’m with classmates. It’s fine.”
Her mother laughed warmly.
“You will adjust. You always adjust.”
Mina swallowed.
That expectation again.
“I will,” she said quietly.
“We are proud of you.”
After the call ended, Mina placed her phone down gently.
Lucien pretended not to have heard much, but he looked at her differently now.
“Family?” he asked.
“Yes.”
He nodded once. “That helps.”
“It does,” she replied.
As they finished eating, Mina felt something subtle shift.
She wasn’t sitting alone.
She wasn’t translating everything by herself.
She wasn’t entirely outside.
It was a small thing, but quite important.
When they stood to clear their trays, Lucien turned slightly toward her.
“If you ever need help with language, I don’t mind.”
Sofia gasped dramatically. “See? Official savior.”
Lucien rolled his eyes playfully.
“It’s practical, That’s all.”
Mina gave a small, sincere nod.
“Thank you.”
Later that evening, back in the dorm room, Mina sat at her desk staring at a blank sketch page.
The cafeteria moment replayed in her mind.
The slight panic and the unexpected help from Lucien, also the conversation.
Maybe belonging didn’t arrive all at once.
Maybe it came in pieces.
Her pencil moved.
She began sketching instinctively.
A structured blazer inspired by Korean tailoring sharp lines and minimal silhouette.
But the inner lining? Was an ankara print Bold and Hidden.
Fusion, not replacement, not erasure but Coexistence.
Sofia peeked over her shoulder.
“That’s powerful.”
“It’s not just a sketch, “It’s a statement.”
Mina stared at it.
Strength in transition.
Today hadn’t been dramatic...no grand victories, just small connections, courage and relief
But maybe that was how reinvention truly began.
Not with fireworks, but with someone stepping beside you in a language you’re still learning.
- Writer
