What I did on my (Easter) holidays, part two
Then . . .
I followed the parade up the hill till we reached the last of Christ's stations — outside the old church on the hill top. There, I took a second picture. Again, it reminded me of other Good Friday parades — a time when all young women in possession of their youth and hope get dressed up in hope of attracting a man of their dreams.Things never change. I'm sure it's a mid-Spring ritual that far precedes the arrival of Christianity, whether Maronite, Catholic or Other.Notice the carefully tended long hair and the modesty rules — bare legs or arms would have been unacceptable but tight, tight jeans (and high heels) are fine. One religion's dress codes are so often another's moral outrage.