Sitting in a folding chair next to neat piles of saffron, cumin and sumac, a portly man with an unbuttoned linen shirt looked me over as I lingered to take a photo of his vibrant shop. It was early September and, despite the stagnant heat which trapped an often unpleasant mixture of spices and body odor in alleyways, I was eager to explore Jerusalem’s Old City for the first time. Privy to my excitement and observant of my distinguishing (read:... Read more