Serendipitous Footsteps

In the market, I heard not only Arabic, but Turkish, and...
“Dua riyal? Hajjah, beli? Dua riyal.” Did I misheard something? A shop owner just spoke Indonesian.
I looked at his shop. Arabian olive hair tonics were displayed, along with those colorful henna that many women here like to use to decorate their hands with. A unique praying mat from Turkey, sewed with swirling little ropes. Clay pots with calligraphy emboss, filled with herbs I’ve never seen, one of them was ‘Siwak’. People here chew it like gum to refresh their mouths.
“Yalla, yalla!”
Some local women passed me hurriedly. These Arabic women were very beautiful with brown, hazelnut eyes. The funny thing that people probably don’t notice, but I do: They actually wear jeans beneath their black burqas. Burqas protect them from high sun exposure. Their jeans were revealed amid their fast paces towards the mosque. Surely being Arabian women don’t mean quitting fashion. They just have their own way to enjoy it without causing unnecessary attentions.
I arrived at the Grand Mosque of Madina. Prayer had not started. Beside me sat a girl. She smiled and asked my name.
“Zivana. What’s yours?”
“My name is Aqsha.” she said. She asked many questions, and finally, what I like to do in my leisure time.
“Your hobby?”
“Painting.”
“Really? Me too! What do you like to paint?” she asked again.
“I like to draw people,” I said.
“What? But it’s haram. We’re not allowed to do that.”
“Oh! Sorry, I didn’t know. In my country it’s normal.” I explained.
She nodded, and quickly continue the awkward conversation smartly. “I like to paint flowers.”
She taught me how to wear veils like the locals. She held a tip of the veil asymetricly below her chin, rolled the fabric up one time over the head. I tried. Hey, it wasn’t so difficult! And so our friendship grew.
The next day, I wore a burqa, and put on a veil the way Aqsha had told me. It was an amazing experience. I walk in the same market, but this time, with a pair of Arabian eyes.