Going to Jerusalem was scary.

Going to Jerusalem was scary. I didnt know the city and Id yet to find my way around the small alleyways of the Old City (Al-Quds). There was a favourite spot at the coffee shop at the Notre Dame Center. Id sit there and look out over the Old Citys minarets and steeples. The Dome of the Rock filled my gaze...so beautiful! After the 4 days that were reserved for me in the hotel I had to hit the streets in search of a new place to lay my head. The winding alleyways of al-Quds were like a labyrinth.

I knew of one little house that was run by the Arab Rosary Sisters and went there pulling all of my belongings. The little Arab Sister said, Sorry, we dont have any room but you can leave your luggage while you go to look around the city. So, I was off on the very old stone streets with the wall of al-Quds always on one side of me. As darkness began to fall and there was nowhere to sleep I recalled the words of the Psalm, Though an army surround me, I shall not fear for Thou art with me.

I had lost my luggage and couldnt find my way back to the mornings house! Trudging down the dusty street I saw a familiar door built into the walls. It was strange in that it was open with night approaching. An Arab nun looked out as I was about to pass by and said, Arent you Sabina? Someone told me that you were here in the morning. Come in, we have a place for you! What a shock!

Thus began the next months of communal meals with other travellers (who turned into Jerusalem friends over the next 7 years), hand washing clothes and singing as we hung them on the roof to dry, bargaining in the souq, and travelling the city in an attempt to soak in its glory. My roommate Lena was Swedish. She worked at the Gaza Community Mental Health Program on weekends and was studying Arabic.

That was where I learned of the plight of the Palestinians and first decided to plunge myself into the Arabic language. When my Visa ran out it was a teary goodbye and long flight back to the US. After a little while, I found myself back in al-Quds...my home. Money was tight so it was time to live life poorly in my beloved al-Quds. I learned every face, every smile, every shops owner and the merchants in the souq.

I was known as the woman with the beautiful dress for the lovely Bedouin jalabiyya that I wore. Also, I was known as the hard woman because Id learned to bargain with the best of them! I lived in a hostel (50 cents a night) and met Ismael who would become my teacher for writing Arabic.