While I was waiting for my bus in Jerusalem the sun came up. By the time I had reached Ramallah, it was full day light, yet still pleasantly cool. Ramallah is located on a hill top, about 800 metres high, and I welcomed the slight breeze of the wind when I walked around trying to find DHIP (Danish House in Palestine).
It was around 7 am, and the town was still quiet, but a few people were out in the street. Whenever I stopped to ask for directions, I was met with friendliness and the wish to help. However, DHIP is not yet well known in Ramallah, and the map I had was not of much use spotting the exact location. As the office at DHIP does not open until 8, I sat down for a rest.
After a few minutes, a young guy came out from the building across me and offered me inside for a cup of Arabic coffee while I was waiting. The Danish part of my mentality was telling me not to intrude, but I decided to leave this part aside and embrace the Arabic hospitality.
So we had coffee. As black as the night, as sweet as love and as strong as death. I once heard a saying about Arabic coffee, and even if I have not remembered it correctly, this description will do just as well. Arabic coffee is heavy stuff.
So we had coffee. As black as the night, as sweet as love and as strong as death. I once heard a saying about Arabic coffee, and even if I have not remembered it correctly, this description will do just as well. Arabic coffee is heavy stuff.
After sipping the coffee and talking about all sorts of daily life stuff, my new friend showed me around Ramallah, constantly borrowing me his phone and making sure I had enough to drink as the heat of the day began to kick in. After quite a few tours around in the main streets of the city, we finally found DHIP.
(Photo: The bazaar in the old city, East Jerusalem)
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