From here:
CHAPTER THREE: MIGDAL AND QANA
On the northwest corner of the sea called Kinneret or Tiberias sat the little village of Migdal, between Kefer-Nahum and Bet-saida. All three of these villages were fishing villages, and business was booming at this time of the year. One could always tell when things were going well— more tax collectors would show up to take their cut for Herod. The people of Migdal however were not doing the usual grumbling about the tax collectors as there was a new topic of conversation— the beautiful new synagogue in Migdal, complete with stone reading table decorated with floral designs and a carved image of a menorah. The pride in the little village was palpable since the synagogue had been completed this summer.
High up above the fishing village in the hills that led up to the cliffs of Arbel was a cave, and sitting in its mouth a woman, covered in dust from head to toe. She was not an old woman, but still it was clear that life had not been kind to her. Left to herself, she had no one to talk to, save herself. “Unclean they say, unclean. But who are they, the lords of life, to judge me?” she asked no one in particular. Her hair disheveled, she had covered herself in dirt to protect her from the sun and also the vermin that crawled around in the cave. Her name was Miryam, named for the prophetess, the sister of Moses. But she was not honored among men like Miryam once, indeed she had been cast out of the village because of the suspicion she had unclean spirits. There were also stories that men had tried to use her for their pleasure, unsuccessfully for she would begin to shriek and kick and fight them off. Her parents were dead and her only brother had left town looking for work elsewhere and so she was well and truly alone.