She speaks little, but when she does, she laughs and jokes. Although there is something desperate in her expression, she is surprisingly beautiful and slender, with the dark skin, the fascinating eyes and the strong body of her brothers. It is impossible to imagine that she has had six children. She cooks, picks her children up in her arms and seems to be a happy wife. I find it impossible to guess what is in her heart.
Languages overlap, each marked by symbols of fear and power.
My friend speaks Serbian, and the enemies reply by slightly changing the speach into the dominant language of a victorious Croatia. Then they all move over to a noisy Italian. I speak with Reska in Italian, spied upon by Medo, and I speak with the others in German. Suddenly, as we are eating, Reska asks me to say out loud some verses from the Qur'an, in Arabic. Arabic is the most powerful of all languages, but they bend and sweeten it with Turkish sounds.