Character cultural relativity

I'm not sure if that's an appropriate title, but this addresses how characters react to each other within the confines of their experiences and their culture. From an email to a friend: "In a way I wanted to tell you this in person,but life's unpredictable nature might make it impossible for us to sit down and have a conversation. I put all my writing away a couple weeks ago. It was frustrating me and not enjoyable so I decided to read, clean my house, and potentially revisit my other hobbies. Just to recharge the batteries. This is always an awesome exercise because it allows the crazy new thoughts to enter your mind. Like my werewolf stories. Then I had a strange thought about Étienne's back story. I have waffled a bit on his history-- at one point he failed his bac (the end of high school exams used for university entrance) and went to work for his father. He and Basilie then represented two avenues to success: him, hard work and her, education/ family background. This is starting to sound like a blog entry. May have to copy it and post. Then I made Ét narrowly pass his exam and make it into a prestigious private art school. And drop out when his father died. So he drove Basilie crazy because she wanted to attend a similar school and couldn't get in and he dropped out! Similar to the kind of jealousy she feels when he gets an O visa to the US and she gets an HB. But that bothered me because Ét probably wouldn't have the academic credentials or the money for such a school. BUT if he doesn't go to school, he'll end up conscripted into the army. Which I always believed his brother was serving his conscription when their father died. But really, Edmond is the one who went to university and has small children so realistically he would have a deferment.  It looks like if Étienne served his conscription, it would have been in 1977, and probably shortly after the independence of Djibouti. Étienne. Army. Djibouti. With me? I do not doubt he would be a lousy soldier, but I think he would be very clever in making social arrangements for the guys, and helping repair uniforms of his peers to avoid the hazing aspects of the military.  And what makes this interesting is according to the sources I could find, 98% of Djibouti women TODAY still undergo severe circumcision/ genital mutilation. And I think being an observer to a culture that does this could make him very pro-feminist. I also think that it would make some interesting conflict with Basilie about the status of women in the world, since she's an educated, upper class European and argue that the world has improved for women and Étienne would believe her a sheltered, ethnocentric brat. Angel"

The nightmare progresses...

My last post focused on revising a nightmare for one of my main characters. I would feel remiss if I didn't post my latest draft to show you the changes. This is still not final...

She stood at the conference room table of her former employer, Minerva Pollux. She gazed to the window, Lower Manhattan pierced by her bold and surprisingly thin reflection in a cranberry red suit. She turned, as if in slow-motion, the faces around the table coming into focus one by one. Twelve people surrounded the table, twelve old American men with gray hair and pinstripe suits, the type of men who smoked cigars and drank Scotch, each one a client. She could match these men in business smarts, in ruthlessness, even with imbibing alcohol and net worth, but she would never smoke a cigar. Galen sat at the foot of the table, striking a metallic blade against his palm over and over.
They waited for something. What? Basilie retrieved her BlackBerry from her pocket, splitting her attention between that and the television on the wall. The market remained steady. The name of the company on the stock ticker triggered her memory. They had gathered for a hostile takeover. Basilie had orchestrated it, leveraging her investors’ cash, Minerva Pollux’s reputation, and her own ability to carve the company into profitable pieces for the highest bidders. Oh, yes, Basilie did this all the time. Creeping tender offers from new shareholders taking advantage of a proxy fight...
Basilie stepped closer to the table, a crunch stopping her. Her rosary laid on the floor. As she knelt to retrieve it, her reflection caught her eye again, except this time, she wore simple robes instead of her suit. Her body glowed. A baby cried in the distance. Her breasts ached as she heard it. The BlackBerry rumbled. She read the number and answered her ‘mole.’
“They spun it off. Your department. Your crown jewel. They saw you coming.”
The ribbon on the screen announced the news. The value of her stock had plummeted when the corporation had spun off its core department.
“Damn it,” Basilie snapped.
Millions lost. Basilie turned to the table. She opened her mouth to relay the news and the clients transformed into... family. Her father sat to her right, then her grandfather and grandmother Saint-Ebène. The couple beside them might have been her great-grandparents on her father’s side. Others next to them bore a strong resemblance. The man closest to Galen rose from the table. A woman neighboring him wept. He had the sword. He extended it as he approached Galen, the ornate gold hilt fitting perfectly in his hand. She recognized the crest on the sword, and peered closer at the man with it. She could have been looking in the mirror. She saw her face, in the masculine.
“He has it,” her doppelgänger told her in middle French. “Matris Virginis—”
Galen punched him in the face, interrupting his statement.

Without knowing the exact plot, how much symbolism can you decipher? If she were your friend and she asked for help deciphering this dream, what would you say?