You visit mosque after mosque after mosque, not to mention the churches and synagogues randomly thrown in. Instead of enjoying the religious symbolism, the majestic architecture, the awe-inspiring continuity of it all, I find myself thinking of the possibilities of a make out session in a minaret. The women's quarters in a traditional family home - with their harem window shading and secret passages - present themselves as the perfect place for a certain set of clandestine activities.
Oh land of the sexually repressed, what hast thy done?
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