Teachers are the luckiest people. He doesn't seem to have much to do with this village, like a passerby driving through the vast snow. He enjoyed the love of his sister for him, and the girl smiled softly. Sister Eva belongs to the country, um, belongs. There is always someone who will have a good time here. They silently abide by the rules of the patriarchal society, but they will gently hold your hand after Dad leaves, and don't go to the lake with you but turn to kiss you.
They figured out how to live here, they knew what they could and couldn't do, they wouldn't cross the line, they wouldn't be out of line.
Sometimes rebels say it's numbness, repressed silence, servility.
But I am happiest when Sister Eva laughs. That bird-killing girl who pretended to be unconscious is indeed a great rebel even today. But she never smiled. This is about the price of rebellion, about life.
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