Jebel Akhdar

Jebel Akhdar is located in the Sharqiyah region of Oman, and in Arabic it means "the green mountain." We parked the bus at the base of the mountain and transferred into 4x4s. The falaj at the base of the mountain had been paved, with stone bridges over the falaj. Some local boys were using the falaj as relief from the heat, climbing underneath the bridges and floating down the channels.

We soon understood why the 4x4s were necessary: the mountain road was steep and windy. Our bus would have made it about 10 feet. It took a while to reach the summit, but the view from the top was magnificent.

From the overlook, you could see small villages scattered on the terraces below. And the mountain was surprisingly green: the falaj systems keep the terraces blooming with grapes, pomegranates, apples, grass for goats, olive trees, and corn, among other crops.

The stone outcroppings of the overlook also showcased the mountain's geological history: scores of worms, coral, shells and fish were captured in the rock. This area used to be underwater, and we could see the beautiful remnants everywhere. 

After walking along the falaj from village to village, we ate lunch and headed over to Wadi Ben Habib, a village abandoned about the time that Sultan Qaboos came into power (1970) and began his modernization regimes. You can explore the village, and get a sense of the structure and architecture of the old style of houses. Wadi Ben Habib looks over a wadi (obviously) where there are other inhabited villages, barely visible in the photo below - they are made from adobe and blend well into the surrounding land.

It was great fun to trek around the mountain all day, climbing on ruins, aflaj, and walls. The weather was warm, but far more temperate than humid sticky Muscat. We got tired out pretty quickly, and after arriving back to the hotel, hit the hay as soon as possible. Now, there is but to take the final exam and buy gifts at Matrah Souq...and then, on Thursday, my time in Oman will come to a close.

Visiting Maryam in el Yahmady

Last Friday, we visited Maryam in her village, el Yahmady, near Ibra. We met her in Nizwa, one on of the first weekends here - she came up to Julia and I and just started chatting. When she invited us to her village, we realized that this might be the only opportunity we had to visit an Omani home (and access to Omani women!) so we rented a car and planned our visit. Maryam's sister hosted us (second from left, with baby) for a snack: fresh juice, cake, and fruits before we headed out to visit their plot of garden in the oasis, watered by the falaj. Maryam is the far right, in the blue veil. I was so happy to be around Omani women, and have the opportunity to speak with them in Arabic. They were very curious about us and our lives, about the cities we lived in, what we were doing in Oman. It was really lovely. We sat in their majlis, a room off the main entrance and to the side so that women can enter and exit without being seen by the rest of the household, and ate fruit and drank juice.

Hurra, the littlest girl, came with us to the falaj: she's absolutely precious. I loved her red satin outfit.

The al Yahmady women's outfits were so brightly colored and patterned - they were so beautiful! Especially after weeks of nothing but black abayas and hijabs.

Hurra is standing on the date oven - after the farmers harvest the dates, they cook them on this big stove. The fire goes underneath (follow the smoke marks) and above, there's a large cauldron where the dates go. They are cooked halfway, and then transported away for further cooking.

It was far too hot to stay out in the gardens for long, so we returned to Maryam's father's house. Again we entered the women's room from a private entrance. It had its own bathroom and sinks, and a separate entrance into the courtyard and the main house. We had lunch: something none of us had expected, since we were already full from the snack earlier. After a heavy lunch of rice, beef, and chicken, the girls applied henna to us.

As the sun sent down, we headed to an abandoned village nearby to see the old style of Omani houses. They were beautiful, and nestled among still-inhabited homes. The new homes recycle bits of the old ones, an ever-growing and evolving dwelling.

After dark, we headed back to Muscat and returned the rental car. I was very grateful to have spent a day with Omani women. It seems such a simple thing - but it was nice to be included and to be treated as honored guests - a heartwarming welcome after several weeks of awkwardly inhabiting the liminal space of Western woman in Muscat. It seems hard to believe that the program is coming to a close already, and I am thankful to go out on a high note.

Interlude: Gas,Pomegranates & Fezzes

What an incredible weekend! I am completely exhausted. Before I write up my weekend tomorrow (inshallah) to tell you about my visit with Maryam in al Yehmady and my trip to Jebel Akhdar, two quick notes.

1) Here's a picture of the gas prices in Oman. The prices range from 120 besa to 146 besa per liter. 1000 Besa make an Omani rial, which is worth about $3 USD.

...which makes gas about 30-35 cents per liter here.
Yes. You read that right.

2). Last week my mango wore a turban & this week, my pomegranate wore a fez. I had no idea fruits were so into stylish headgear! Wait a minute...

More soon!

Special Update

Given that my last post was about marriage, I think it's fantastic and appropriate that the Supreme Court has struck down DOMA as unconstitutional. This is a really really exciting day - I agree that this law limited the liberty of individual citizens and denied them dignity and benefits they are fully entitled to. Being here in Oman, I have spent so much time explaining how our government, history, and beliefs about appropriate love and political organization are different, and rationalize them to someone who comes from a completely different way of seeing and making sense of the world. Having to do this has made me re-evaluate my beliefs and made me believe in them so much more strongly and deeply, especially because I see so clearly how gorgeous our freedoms are and how important the concept of democracy is (even if it is not fully realized...yet). I am so proud and thankful to be a citizen of the USA today - it simply comes down to

LOVE IS LOVE IS LOVE.

زفاف عماني

Monday night, a few of us girls attended an Omani wedding (زفاف عماني or zifaf o3mani), courtesy of my peer facilitator. It was a really interesting experience, worth being pretty tired the next day in class.

When Ayman came to pick us up, she was wearing a glitzy veil and abaya, black as usual but smothered in sequins, over a red prom dress. I could also see that she had on several layers of makeup, including heavy white foundation and red lipstick. Ayman told us in the car that it was forbidden to photograph the bride, or photograph in general, at the wedding (hence this post without pictures). You could take pictures of yourself, but only against the wall so that no one else was in the shot. About twenty minutes later, we arrived at the reception hall. The room was massive - and it looked basically like prom. There was a gazebo over the entryway and lots of large round tables sheathed in linens. At the opposite end of the room there was a massive silver and blue backdrop with a throne on it (again, think prom and you're on the right track).

Once we were in the hall, all the women took off their abayas and veils to reveal the (prom) dresses underneath: lots of ruffles, sequins, glitter, and layers. The hair was high and the makeup thick. Omani weddings are gender-segregated affairs: there are no men present, except the groom, so women can show off their dresses and they do not need to cover. It was the first time I've seen skin since being in Oman. That's why you're not allowed to take pictures - the women are uncovered, and don't want their pictures circulating on the internet. Fair enough: if you go all that effort to veil, it would be lame to have that ruined by some snap-happy wedding guest.

We found a table and sat down, and watched the small group of women dancing to Arabic music in the center aisle. A rather stout young lady had squeezed herself into a gold sequined fishtail gown, with a huge black bouffant and incredibly heavy eye makeup. She was dancing in the center of the group (to be honest, she kind of looked like a drag queen, which made me immediately like her). She made eye contact with Julia and I, and motioned for us to come join. When we laughed and shook our heads, she sashayed over to us and cajoled us onto the dance floor. The dancing was pretty tame, but lots of fun. We only recognized one song (Pitbull!) as the rest were Arabic pop music. After a few songs, we sat down so the bride could enter. She walked slowly up the center aisle by herself - no bridesmaids, no parents, etc. When she got up to the throne, she sat down. It was rather anti-climactic - after that, there was no ceremony or speech or anything. Instead, she was photographed copiously by her official wedding photographer (the only one allowed to take pictures of her). The announcer called out that the buffet was open, and 300 women in prom dresses waddled over to get food, tripping over trains and tails to get at the hummus and kebabs.

At the end of dinner, the announcer came on again - this time to announce the arrival of the groom. Immediately everyone pulled on their abayas and veils - except the bride, and except for the groom's female family members. The groom entered, and a group of his family and kids swarmed him. He was wearing a dishdash and a khanjar, the curved dagger so popular here but worn only for ceremony, and he walked slowly up the center aisle towards the bride (it must have been pretty strange for him to be the only man in the entire massive ballroom!). He sat down next to her, and the photographer returned.

...and that was basically it. The wedding officially started at 8:30pm, and we were out the door at 11:15pm. When I asked how they estimated the number of guests, since it's very common to just bring lots of friends with you, Ayman told me that each invited guest gets a number of "entry tickets" (literally), so she could bring 5 guests. In many ways, to me, the wedding felt pretty anonymous - I feel like it would be awkward to have strangers at your wedding. For me, wedding guests should be people who are supportive of your choice to marry someone, which means they need to know you - and know your spouse. But here, it's common. Weddings are social and political events that publicly announce the couple's new status in society. And the focus isn't on the couple - just the bride. Since there are only women at the wedding party, it felt to me kind of like a bachelorette party (minus the scandalous bits)...at least until the groom came in. This is the first wedding I've been to without men or alcohol.

Also, there are no toasts, no vows, no cake-cutting, and no first dance. But this makes sense - if your marriage is arranged, and you don't know your fiance before you marry him, there are no stories about the couple. There is no couple - this is where it starts. And arranged marriages are highly contingent on social and economic status, and so hinge on political arrangements and liaisons between families. The vows don't exist except in the form of a marriage contract - the couple's families negotiate the marriage contract, including whether she is allowed to work, whether she will veil and in what fashion, where the couple will live, whether the husband is allowed to take other wives, and rights or conditions under which it is permissible to request divorce (if any). So, the wedding isn't really about romance - it's a social, economic, and political negotiation and performance. We use the term wedding, but I don't think the concept translates accurately cross-culturally. This is not to say that these couples do not experience love - just that the concept of wedding is vastly different in American and Omani cultures, and play very different roles in these communities.

I never met the bride or groom, but I am grateful to have had the experience of attending an Omani wedding. And because I am American (and a sappy romantic one at that), and we toast at weddings: Sultan and Ruqaya, I wish you happiness, love, and every good thing! Mabrouk alayk!

Oh Sweet Salalah - Part Two

Saturday, we woke up and drove out to Khori Rori (Samaharan), a former trading port that dates back to the 3rd c BCE and was inhabited until the 8th c CE (at least). The site contains a record of Roman, pre-Islamic, and Islamic eras. It's a beautiful site, a fortification on an inlet with two headlands that shield it from the crashing Indian Ocean.

A handy map

 The view from the fortress looks south to the sea. As we drove out to the eastern headland, we passed a field of camels grazing.

 We climbed up to the top of the headland, slipping and sliding in the deep sand and rocks, but the view from the top was incredible and worth every shifting step.

 As we walked to the other end of the headland, we looked down on the camels.

 Samaharan is on the spit of land in the middle of the inlet.

 We found a skull...not sure what it was?
After lunch, and a failed attempt to find Souq al-Haffa, we had a few hours left before our flight and drove west of Salalah to see al-Mughsayl Beach and Marneef Cave. On the way, we ran into some more traffic...

 Al-Mughsayl Beach is absolutely gorgeous, a long stretch of land that gives way to the mountains and the jagged cliffs. We walked along the cliffs and the cave to visit the blowholes. The scenery was stunning.

 As the waves crashed into the sea, you could hear a churning hollow sound as the water wound its way underneath the cliffs and came surging up through the blowholes. A group of kids was playing near the grates over the blowholes, daring each other, and ran away shrieking with laughter any time that the water came up.

Once back in Salalah, we returned our rental car and checked in for our flight. When our gate opened, we had a highly organized boarding process (see below). Essentially, they opened the doors of the airport, and we walked across the tarmac and up the steps into our plane. Very formal. Why is it that things are always more relaxed in the south, everywhere?

Salalah is incredibly beautiful - rolling mountains and cliffs that drop down into an azure sea. I am so grateful that we were able to go - the trip was an unfettered joy. I loved being outside and in gentler weather, eat and drink fresh tropical fruit, and having the freedom and mobility to visit ruins and trek around outside. It probably also helped that we were traveling in a mixed group, not just girls: our male classmates offered us entry into places that just girls would not have been able to comfortably access, and prevented any unwanted attention from men. It was the Oman I had hoped to visit: tropical - green and lush, comfortable, accessible, and thoroughly enjoyable.

Oh Sweet Salalah - Part One

This past weekend, I flew to Salalah with a few of my classmates. I am so grateful for this trip - it has been my most positive experience in Oman, and I really enjoyed myself. Salalah is a city grown from a trading port on the Indian Ocean, and served as a central point of trade between India, East Africa, and the Middle East. All the Omanis we had talked to told us at the beginning of the program, "After one month, Salalah will be so beautiful!" So we booked our tickets. Then when we shared our dates, they all said, "Now, Salalah is not beautiful...after one month, it will be beautiful!" The sense of time is clearly different here...undeterred, we went anyway.
After we arrived, we picked up our rental car and drove north to Wadi Dawkah, where there is a UNESCO-sponsored reserve. The reserve protects a grove of frankincense trees. Both frankincense and myrrh are found in abundance in Oman (you may recognize these as two of the three gifts the wise men brought baby Jesus). Frankincense is collected by hashing the trunk of the tree and allowing the resin to form (2-3 weeks). These drops are collected and burned as incense. The Arabic name for it is ألبان (luban). The trees are quite beautiful close up.

On our way back south to Salalah, we ran into some early afternoon traffic on the roads...

but we made it to Ayn al-Sahlanout. People aren't allowed to swim in the water, because snails infected with bilharzia have contaminated the water. But it is an incredibly beautiful spot, to view from afar.

The water had also carved away the rock in intricate and delicate formations.

Afterwards, we drove into the town of Salalah. Banana, palm, and coconut groves line the streets of the town and run up to the coast. It's lush and green, and fruit stalls with local fruit are quite the temptation.

We availed ourselves of fresh bananas and coconuts, although it was hard to pass up the mangoes. The fruit seller was very sweet, and when I asked him what a particular fruit was, he broke it open so we could try it. It's called chikku, and looked like the below. It was really sweet, like mangosteen, and quite delicious.

At lunch, we found (after several wrong turns and asking a local), the restaurant our professor recommended, Maestro Cafe. It was really delicious - but we didn't order the Mexican feather thieves. We'll have to go back and try it sometime.

After a much-needed nap, we had dinner at a Persian restaurant and then went and sat by the beach. It was gorgeous, 75 degrees, and so incredibly peaceful.