Meeting a Stranger
Out on a lonely desert road lit up by street lights, stood the imposing concrete walls of the outside courtyard of my new friend's "istaraha" (a word used for a cabin or vacation home that can be rented out for holidays). I had met this sweet lady at a local festival. Of course like many other women here, when I had met her she was completely covered in black with only her eyes showing. We had exchanged numbers and just last week she reached out inviting me to come meet her and her daughters about an hour outside of the city at their "istaraha". I approached the massive gates rather hesitantly. I knew I wouldn't recognize her and I had never met her daughters before, so I felt practically like a stranger walking up to someone's family reunion expecting to be let in. The minute I walked in my fears subsided. I knew who she was immediately because she came rushing over to meet me and welcome me with open arms. Inside the courtyard, I was free to talk of