Hideous Kinky Page #4

- Mm.

- For the memory.

- Yes.

For when we go.

What?

Tomorrow morning.

Why?

This is your village, Bilal.

We've just arrived.

No.

I don't have a village anywhere.

No mother, no father.

- Then where are you from?

- Nowhere.

- La honte. Le monde est fait de honte.

- "The world is made of shame."

Yes.

Papiers?

Papiers, Madame?

- English?

- Yes.

- And this is your husband?

Yes, she's my wife.

- Don't I know your face?

Je crois pas. I don't think so.

"I don't think so"? Hmm!

Thank you.

Come on, Julia!

Whoo!

- Mum's going to become a Sufi.

- And what do Sufis do?

They live in a mosque,

they pray all day, and they never go out.

- Well, she can't cos she's married to Bilal.

- Mum's married to our dad.

- You just don't remember!

- No, Bilal told me so on the bus.

Liar!

- Bea!

- Liar!

Bea!

- Hey! Oh! Julia! What are you doing?

- I could swim and swim.

Maybe I could reach the other side.

- Until you drown, you mean?

- Fine, it just doesn't scare me any more.

The annihilation of the ego.

- Huh?

- The death of the body.

How can you talk like that?

How can you people talk like that?

Hi, girls.

- It is from the hotel. - The

hotel?! - Have you been there?

Yes.

I had a job... with horses.

- Can we go there for a ride?

- It is nothing. Useless plastic.

- Please! -

Please! - NO!

OK?

I said no!

It is a bad place!

That's the last of it.

- We've got to reprovide.

- I suppose someone has to.

- Mum, where's Bilal?

- He's gone to find food.

- We'll have lunch when he gets back from the hotel.

- If he comes back.

What do you mean, darling?

Well, he's gone a bit potty, hasn't he?

- Mum, will we still have a garden?

- Hmm.

- And mashed potatoes every night.

- Hmm?

- And will you still want to have two little girls?

- What?!

When?

- When you become a Sufi.

- Oh.

- Bilal!

- Hey, girls!

Sardines. 46 tins.

- Is that it?

- And two cigarettes?

That's it, come on.

Oh.

Rub your tummies, rub your tummies.

- You have to go back?

- To Marrakech, yes.

I know, I know. Rub your tummies

and bring up some more.

OK, this man's called Mohammed

and he will drive you to Marrakech.

- Isn't Bilal coming? Aren't you coming, Bilal?

- No, there is work in Agadir. - Come on, girls.

- But aren't you coming with us?

- No, that is no longer part of the plan.

Look!

Learn and work is the only secret, OK?

- We will meet soon, God willing.

- Inshallah. - Yes, inshallah.

Now, go, go, go, go!

What did he say?

Bilal?

Bye, Bilal!

Hey, hey! Now, what should I call you, hmm?

The English Girls or the Arab Girls?

No matter. Shall we have tea?

Er, Jean-Louis Santoni.

- Mum!

I remember your husband.

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