The lies I tell my village.

Many of you probably do not know this, but I have two books written in my head.  I hope to someday get them down on paper and use my book sales to supplement my research costs, but until then, I will just keep writing away in my little brain (I just wish my brain had a better backup).  The first book is entitled, "Mom, I shouldn't tell you this, but..."  It is a book about all my adventures abroad that my mom really doesn't want to know, but I tell her anyways (snakes, scary men, etc) .  My second book is entitled "The Lies I Tell My Village."  This book is still a work in process and I haven't quite decided the form it will take.  Basically, the idea is that both intentionality and unintentionally, I start telling a web of lies, until I don't even know the person I am.  It starts out simply, I don't know a word for something, so I use a different word (for example, I can't remember the number 9, so I tell everyone I am 30... really not a big deal, since I am quickly approaching 30)... and then there are things that I just don't want other people to know..."You have a handyphone (in America you call them cellphone), can I have your number?"  "Oh, I am sorry, this phone only works with numbers from the United States."  "Where are you staying?"  "I am staying at a friend's house, but I am leaving here first thing in the morning."  But after awhile (or not that long), the lies get bigger and better, till I almost forget reality.  Today I told someone I have a husband in the States.  I sat there thinking in my head what does my husband do? and what should his name be? and why isn't he here?  I almost invented a couple of children so that I would have something else to talk about.  I decided against it so I would not be judged as a bad mother for leaving my children motherless in America.  (By the way, I am taking suggestions on the story of my husband...if anyone has any good ideas.)  I justify all my lies as a way of protecting myself, but after awhile, when are the lies a protection of me and when am I just a lier.  For someone whose identity is in some ways worn on my sleeve (I can not hide the fact that I am not Indonesian), and represents so many things bigger than herself,  "I am an American, I am a Fulbrighter, I am a Borener, I am a scientist, I am a foreigner", what does it mean when I express my own identity as a falsehood?