My first time coming back through Qalandia, the bus driver left us on the Palestinian side and motioned that he would pick us up on the other side of the checkpoint. Once we passed through the three gates, the metal detector, and put our things through the x-ray machine, I walked to where I believed the bus would pick me up. I saw a young boy there, he was maybe around 13 years old. Afraid I wouldn’t recognize our bus, and be left behind, I asked him, “nahnu fi nafsil bas?”* And when he smiled and said yes, I pointed to the bus and I asked “hada basna?”** And he repeated what I said, emphasizing the “basna” with a nod and a grin, while his mother smiled in the background. I later realized that I asked him, “hada boosna?”*** and not “basna” and so then I understood the reason for his grin. I enjoyed it when people laughed at me, especially at checkpoints.

*Are we in the same bus?

**This is our bus?

***Is this our kiss?