Glancing Back

I miss the crowds in Medinah and Makkah. It isn't that I enjoy being jostled everywhere I go, and it's not a lot of fun needing a good fifteen minutes to cross a square you could manage in about forty-five seconds if it were uncluttered, but excitement involved in the sheer diversity of human beings pressing against you at any given time is hard to beat. Back in our usual far place the streets look just a little drab in comparison.

Take headgear, for example. The diversity of hijab worn by the womenfolk out in the Middle East gave the lie to any notion of drab conformity The variety amongst the black versions alone was remarkable. And the number of different head coverings for the guys seemed, if not infinite, then pretty darned enormous. Most of all I found myself fascinated observing the various ways in which the Arabs - I assume it was them generally - wore their head scarves. Somehow each individual contrived to make their version look good and solid somehow, when I've got a strong suspicion that if I'd had tried to put one one I would have been carrying around an unstable mess.

I recall watching a group of some ten guys wearing those red and white checked scarves that are so popular in the masjid at Medinah. Each one seemed to have tied theirs differently and each one looked super comfortable and, well, dignified. But then amongst them, and I assume he was one of their number because he seemed perfectly at ease, was a youngster of about fifteen, with much darker skin than the others (essentially black, whilst the others would never have been classified as such) who was wearing an entirely white head covering. This scarf fell down his back in a series of gorgeous folds, seemingly calculated to drop exactly as they did. I couldn't figure if this had been achieved randomly, or had been carefully set in place. It needed a Rembrandt to paint those folds they were just so organically right.