Imagine a rave party where everyone contributes to the playlist, not just the DJ...
Continuing my series on festival day in the ghetto. A little Burmese Muslim girl is dressed in her Hari Raya best.
She's sitting on a squashed box by the roadside. Those red spots on the pavement are not colour run from her brand new dress. They are betelnut spit spat out by the many chewers here.
The girl has grabbed a front row seat, behind the raffia strings cordoning off the area. People are milling around, looking serious, waiting for something.