Before sunrise, a woman slips off her shoes and puts them into her bag. She presses her palm to the pavement, whispering a prayer before joining the slow, tightening crowd. Around her, bodies sway and surge. Someone offers water. Another grips a thick rope. The air is heavy with sweat, incense, and murmured petitions. For hours, she will walk barefoot—not to prove anything, she says later, but to carry what she can no longer carry alone.
