Where Do We Go Now? (2011)
Amale: It's definitely blood.
Rita: Is it a sign? God is speaking to us.
Aïda: Yes. He's trying to tell us you're dumb. It's chicken blood, stupid.
Amale: [narrating] The story I tell is for all who want to hear. A tale of those who fast, a tale of those who pray, a tale of a lonely town, mines scattered all around. Caught up in a war, split to its very core. To clans with broken hearts under a burning sun. Their hands stained with blood in the name of a cross or a crescent. From this lonely place, which has chosen peace, whose history is spun of barbed wire and guns.
Rita: [about visitors] They look like they've been in a famine. Look at that anorexic one. And the other, flat as a board. Our smallest pair of boobs could feed half of the Ukraine!
Priest: Did we get away with it?
Imam: Down here maybe. But up there, I'm not so sure.
Amale: [narrating] My story is now ending for all those who were listening, of a town where peace was found while fighting continued all around. Of men who slept so deep and woke to find new peace. Of women still in black, who fought with flowers and prayers instead of guns and flares, and protect their children. Destiny then drove them to find a new way.
Pallbearers: [suddenly remembering that the cemetery is segregated] Where do we go now?