The moon, a perfect croissant of gold, reflecting the fire of the food stalls, keeps watch as it moves lazily across the sky. In the deep blue of the almost night, stars battle to shine, competing with the bright lights bellow.
As the smoke wafts up, so does the delicious smells of the evenings feast. Tender, roasted meats, thick, nourishing soap, sweat fruits and cakes intermingle.
Along with the smell come the sounds, shouts to advertise the delicacies for sale, laughs of friends and applause for the traveling entertainment.
Men, comically dressed as ladies, shake and swirl their multicolored dresses, the hues blending into a rainbow. The red of the earth and red of the buildings gives a neutral back drop to the colors of the people and everything else, the kaleidoscopic market and the bright, fresh, juicy colors of the fruit.
But then all these sensations are over taken. The air is filled with the beautiful, haunting call from the surrounding towers. Irresistible, it draws in the believers to worship the God who made this beautiful world.