Walking to prayers

Last week, on a Friday, I went for a walk just as afternoon prayers were starting. It was fabulous because the streets were absolutely deserted. The only people were those stragglers arriving at mosque a bit late, like this man.

Later that afternoon, we caught a ride with our work vehicle. Two of the office’s drivers were there: one was going off duty and the other was starting his shift for the day. They were both dressed in long white jalebeyas and white caps, like the man above. On other days of the week, they wear Western clothes, so I commented on their dress. They said that this is the real Sudanese tradition: on Fridays they wear this and they eat aseeda which is traditional Sudanese food. They looked so much more relaxed and happy as they spoke of the women in their families preparing a traditional meal and the entire family gathering, wearing white flowy robes.

I think this look is pretty glorious, personally. It makes me wish every day was Friday.

On the other hand, ask me on another day and I’ll tell you of the negative connotations of this dress. Oh it breaks my heart to think of the cruelty and bloodiness that exists alongside those same traditions that bring family together on relaxing Friday afternoons.

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