My mother turns her coat inside out and asks me which side is better.
I flick through the rare book of photographs my brother has bought for my father, Jerusalem through my father’s eyes.
A photograph of a Bedouin family in 1935.
The caption: The woman is wearing her jacket inside out. This meant. “I am in a hurry; don’t stop me to talk.” People seeing her dressed like this would realize that she intended no rudeness by not pausing to greet them.