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            | In 
              search of the proper Western Sahara outfit Women 
              from the Western Sahara wear an intricate patterned veil as their 
              main piece of clothing. The malhafa comes in all patterns and colors, 
              from lavish oranges to sober blacks, and never will you see two 
              women wearing the same. The streets of Laayoune are polka dotted 
              with small and big colored shapes, gracefully strolling through 
              the city. It wasn't long before every member of the Rouvray family 
              felt a strong urge to wrap herself (or himself) in one such marvel...
 
 Like 
              every other good in Morocco, the malhafa is purchased in the "souk"- 
              the town market. In small, countryside villages, souks tend to be 
              a weekly event (and an important event, as some towns owe their 
              name to the day of the week their souk is held on- as if our towns 
              were suddenly called Monday, Tuesday etc..)- but in great big cities 
              like Laayoune, souks are a permanent affair; and a rather noisy 
              one.
 
 |   woman 
              holding her malhafa in the windy streets of Laayoune
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            |  | Pressed 
              by 4 incessant demands for veils and other Moroccan marvels, I decided 
              to ask one of these fair women where they had purchased their magnificent 
              garment. I sent my father as the emissary- big mistake, the young 
              woman stepped back, fearful that this gray man from the West would 
              take her away to faraway lands. She put up much less of a fight 
              when I approached her, and soon, she and her cousin were parading 
              us through narrow streets, from one vendor to another. Our 
              two, self-appointed guides (but when do you ever meet a real guide 
              in Morocco?) soon took a great liking to Mom- as she was obviously 
              the most willing to try...anything.
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            | And 
              so the afternoon ended in a wave of laughter, spreading from shop 
              to shop, from makeshift stall to stall...as all gathered to watch 
              Mom lose herself in a mountain of veils! In a few years,some innocent tourist in Laayoune 
              (though one may need more resolve than innocence to get that far 
              down the Moroccan coast) will probably be fed the most improbable 
              of all legends: the tale of the white woman sent from far away lands, 
              to learn of the intricate ways of malhafa wrapping!
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