ALGIERS, Algeria -- They are forgettable doors, windowless and pale, unfit for a city with as grand a constitution as Algiers, battered though it is. Sometimes a peephole is centered in the middle like a cyclops, maybe harboring a burly man winking behind it, but the doors are otherwise faceless, as intended. They are dotted all over the city, faithfully guarding secrets, and Nadir used to constantly point them out to me when we were out walking. "See that door?" he'd say, and my eyes would scan for a door. "That's a bar. During the terrorism the extremists liked to bomb bars, so they had to be kept hidden, and the guy would only let in someone he knew."
For Many Algerians, New Violence Feels Tragically ‘Normal’
