I was returning from the far north and planned to visit a friend in Haifa. To do that, I had to take a bus to Acre and from there ride the train to Haifa. Just as I was about to buy my train ticket, I saw a large grassy hill (or knoll if you will) and thought it will be fun to climb it and take a look at the old city of Acre, which I have't visited for more than a decade. From the top of the hill, I saw a large green mosque in the Arabic part of town and for some reason felt I just had to visit this mosque.

Now the Arabs build there cities like labyrinths; the houses are adjacent, the roofs often meet and the streets are so narrow three men can't walk abreast. The sky is reduced to a thin blue line above you and the whole architecture seems to be designed to keep you in the dark, physically and intellectually.

Because of this peculiarly of construction, I had to spend nearly three hours walking around the mosque, looking for an opening in those labyrinthine Arab streets. The locals eyed me suspiciously, probably wondering what a long-haired white kid could possibly search so fervently in this ancient town.

After many strange encounters and with a growing sense of urgency, I finally managed to find the passage to the mosque's courtyard just as the Muezzin announced prayer time. Naturally, the guard said I can't go in during prayer, but I told him I just have to and had to for a long time. He sighed and let me in provided I didn't disturb the prayer (which is often the kind of things that get you lynched.)

Surprisingly, the mosque was full of cats, which is strange because Arabs usually don’t like animals, especially on holy sites. But in that mosque, there were more cats than Arabs! Big, beautiful, colorful, well-fed cats. Somehow, looking at those weird cats in this surreal setting, I knew it was they who drew me there.

However, there was another special thing about this mosque that carried the intimidating name “the butcher.” Seeing my curiosity, one of worshipers told me they have a major relic hidden in the mosque – a lock from the beard of Muhammad.

I felt amazingly calm and elevated in this mosque and spent some time just sitting on a bench in the yard, listening to water trickle in the well and watching the legion of happy cats go about their daily routines.

I still don’t know to make of this experience, but somehow I know that it’s full significance wasn’t revealed to me yet.

Still thinking what to make of it.