Dual Citizenship or Split Personality?

I started writing this after my day at the Colombian consulate.
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Today was a very strange day. A real emotional roller coaster that I wasn't expecting. I knew I was going to the Colombian Consulate to try and get my dual citizenship to help me travel  more easily while I'm working in Cartagena. I knew that I was given a name when I was born in Bogotá.  I knew I couldn't picture myself with that name; it didn't seem to fit my features or personality... What I didn't know was that I would actually feel for a person that never got to take shape or have a life.  For a few brief hours today, I was somebody else.  I wasn't Kate. People speaking in only Spanish were calling me a different name, the one on my birth certificate. And for those few brief hours, a shapeless shadow dormantly hovering around in a foreign country for decades was  suddenly in New York, using my face and my fingerprints; she became me or part of me like Voldemort revealed as Professor Quirrel's other face in The Sorcerer's Stone ... without the nefarious intentions, I'm almost certain.

There was something exciting about it all. For more than a moment I thought I could actually have two identities and two passports with different names; I'd be like a spy or an operative on The Blacklist except just a teacher with no training in any spy techniques. Maybe this other me wouldn't  be so shy about speaking Spanish. Maybe this person using my face and hands isn't afraid of anything; she must be itching to get a chance to take this flesh and bones body on an adventure. I got excited for her to live and see what she would do! Hours of time to think and imagine and see paper after paper with my face and her name. She was beginning to materialize to me. It felt like a spicier, fast-paced Spanish speaking version of myself. She'd probably dance salsa like a pro on DWTS and zip line every weekend. I could get on board with this alias I thought.

And then.... 

She died. She was dead and I didn't get to hear her plans. I knew her story up til this point was my story but she didn't get to have the next chapter like she thought she would for that moment. 

The process was about 6.5 hours. Once I got to the point where I had to legally change my name in Colombia, as quickly as she was brought to life, she was just gone. The paper I.D. with my face and prints alongside her name were discarded (the one I thought I was going to get to keep anyway). It was so surreal and I was actually sad. I felt so sorry that I didn't get to give her more time. I felt mournful. I feel mournful. Ridiculous, I know. It wasn't the experience I was expecting.  The waves of emotions I was having throughout the day were  quite a shock. I went in there thinking the most I would feel was a little like a poser or fraud. I figured there might be some resentment I'd feel from those working at the consulate since I want to be a citizen and don't even speak Spanish or know much Colombian history, which I get and did feel from just one of the many people that helped me that day, and there were a lot. I can't complain. After all, I--Kate Salute-- am a fraud when it comes to being a Colombian if that means more than a stamp on some papers. But she, she could have been the real deal. We'll never know and that's the part that makes me pause in a moment of silence. Then I  take a deep breath and thank my lucky stars that I--Kate Salute-- have been so fortunate and blessed to live such a beautiful life that anyone can be proud of, and I think that includes her. I don't want to feel haunted by her and whatever jealousy could exist for the circumstances of our lives so I'll just hope instead that she will help me and guide me in my journey, in her home country for the next two years.