Our not so happy band is starting to splinter. Breaking into factions along national lines. Each group feeds off the other members, reinforcing every comment to move away from a balanced viewpoint. The moaners discuss a suitable lawyer, the positives get smug and the Turks are in the middle, solving the problems as they arise. The Macedonian lady just keeps feeding everyone bread and pastries.
Language doesn't help as you feel most comfortable talking to those you can fully understand and soon begin to feel and act like them, in your own little national enclave. Now and again you venture across. They think you are remarkably relaxed but misguided.
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