Chapter 29
Frida Rodriguez ... En Route broken
October 3, 1992
Paris, France
Dear Kate,
I should get down on my knees in front of invincible Martha Gellhorn and gutsy old Claudia from Moon Tiger and beg their forgiveness for letting them down. I’ve been back in Paris for a month. I can hardly go outside without crying – the city is beautiful and tranquil and I can buy buttery Brie any time I want without being shot at. I’ve been too depressed to open your letters but I need to. I miss you so much. It’s not fair with everyone in Sarajevo living on rations, but I’m going to buy us a greasy choucroute and gorge on tangy cabbage and smoky sausage while I read your words. I understand how spoiled I am now, Kate. We’re all spoiled. None of us gross selfish twentysomethings has any idea how easy we have it. Have you and Sven figured out the meaning of life by now? I hope so. After Sarajevo I wonder if there’s any meaning at all. You’ll understand when you read my notebook.
Frida