Who can know from the word goodbye what kind of parting is in store for us. - Arundhati Roy

There is a war that makes us adore our conquerors and despise ourselves.

В онези ранни смътни години, за които едва си спомняха, когато животът беше пълен с множество начала, но липсваха краища, когато всичко им се струваше завинаги, Еста и Рахел заедно се възприемаха като мен, а поотделно, насаме, като Ние или Нас. Сякаш бяха някаква странна порода сиамски близнаци, разделени физически, но с обща самоличност.
Сега, след толкова години, Рахел още пази спомена как една нощ се бе събудила от собствения си смях, породен от някакъв смешен сън на Еста.
Помни и други неща, които не би трябвало да помни.

When, as happened recently in France, an attempt is made to coerce women out of the burqa rather than creating a situation in which a woman can choose what she wishes to do, it’s not about liberating her, but about unclothing her. It becomes an act of humiliation and cultural imperialism. It’s not about the burqa. It’s about the coercion. Coercing a woman out of a burqa is as bad as coercing her into one. Viewing gender in this way, shorn of social, political and economic context, makes it an issue of identity, a battle of props and costumes. It is what allowed the US government to use western feminist groups as moral cover when it invaded Afghanistan in 2001. Afghan women were (and are) in terrible trouble under the Taliban. But dropping daisy-cutters on them was not going to solve their problems.