The most beautiful call to prayer I have ever heard was actually in Africa ( not Damascus as I am sure some folk might expect me to say.) I was in a tiny Dogon village in Mali where D and I had been travelling for a couple of days with a guide called Willi. Unfortunately I don't have any digital photographs from this area so I have found some here instead to give you an idea of the area. It was actually a lot drier when I was there. Just dirt and dust and stripped down boa boa trees. Yet it was still very mesmerising.
I remember wandering the markets and watching men wearing pointy hats and long, flowing cloaks pass by as if they were Gandalfs on a stroll through an African Middle Earth.
On the second night we stayed in Ende which was much like many of the other Dogon villages along the escarpment except that it was also the home to the spiritual leader ( the Hogon). Perhaps it is him who I heard sing so beautifully.
I remember lying on a mudroof in this village and waking to an expanse of sky and stars and the most sublime music you can possibly imagine. Like something out of a mystical fairytale which didn't punch its way into my sleep like the normal prayer wails do but tended to sail through the air and blend with my dreams. I cannot recall a single note of the song I just remember that gripping realisation in my heart that I might possibly have just heard the most beautiful sound I will ever hear in my entire life.
I believe to this day it still is.
Since I don't have any picture of the area to add to the blog I shall add one of my favourites taken earlier in the trip . The whole game actually stopped until the goats had made it safely through.
This picture was also taken from the same place which was along the coast in Ghana.
ps - safe travels to D who is on a journey of his own today.
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