The inconsolable wails of weeping women echoes off the ancient brick buildings far ahead of their bodies that seemed to be propelled by grief and a kind friend who helps them through the streets.
The walks generally start in the morning when the body of the loved ones are carried to a sacred place to be burned. After the ceremony, the women walk the streets in small groups for hours. Men seem to be present at some point, but they are generally less visible than women. I can honestly say that I have never heard such heart wrenching sounds as these groups of women pass by. Everyone stops, looks and is quiet.
For the next year, the men will wear white no festivals will be celebrated in the home.