The longer I'm in Oman the more I learn about the intricacies of Omani culture, and as I do so, the more I fall in love. However, this love is not blind. I can say without question that I have been stretched during my time here; I have become aware of privileges I never knew I had in the States, and conversely, I have found great freedom in Oman. Different doesn't mean bad. This season has been one of discovering differences and continuing to fall in love with a culture, both in spite of and because of them.
(**Note: Before I begin this post, please recognize that my opinions and understandings are based on my experiences in Oman and the States. Omani culture is Omani culture, not that of the entire Middle East. There is not a singular Middle Eastern culture just as there is not a singular Western culture. My experiences are my experiences, not those of anyone else. So while these thoughts are valid and true, they are not everyone's experience. Please have this in mind as you reflect on my thoughts and writings.)
Each morning we begin our day with a simple question: what do I want to wear? Clothes are seen as modes of self-expression, a medium of culture. The close ties between individuals and their culture often lead to the belief that clothes are indicative of cultural, and therefore personal, values, which is not always the case. This could explain why I felt uncomfortable walking through town in a hiking skirt after an early morning hike. I remember shying away from the attention it drew, embarrassed at what onlookers might think of me, and fearing the possibility of offense. The length of my skirt does not necessitate a certain set of values, just as the length of a Muslim woman's abaya or the presence of a hijab is not necessarily indicative of the values our culture so often associates with them. In this post, I am going to reflect on what I have learned about Omani dress and discuss misconceptions surrounding their culture of modesty.
Before I begin, let's get some basic terminology out of the way...
Articles of Omani Women's Clothing:
Abaya- Loose dress covering women's clothes and body from wrist to ankle, typically black
Hijab- Scarf that covers head/hair, leaving the face uncovered
Niqab- Veil worn over a hijab that covers the face from the nose down, leaving the eyes uncovered
Burqa- Veil covering the entire body, including the face. Has a mesh slot to see through. Varies according to region as seen to the right.
Articles of Omani Men's Clothing:
Dishdasha- Traditional Omani dress covering men from wrist to ankle, typically white, required in work, government, or formal settings
Muzzar- Turban-like head covering
Kumma- Cap-like head covering that is embroidered and colorful
Ladies first, yes? In my experience, Omani women typically wear black abayas with a matching hijab. Abayas are often individually tailored and made of expensive fabric. They can be different colors, bejeweled, or embroidered to achieve a desired look, design, or silhouette. Hijabs can also be individualized through color, fabric, and decor. Graceful attire that is both well-tailored and made of quality material makes these women look extraordinarily classy, to say the least.
Facial coverings are a bit more nuanced. The majority of women I have seen in Oman do not wear a face cover, they just wear an abaya and hijab. I have seen women wearing all three of the types of burqas shown above, but if I see them, they are usually either the Omani or Emirati mask. Afghani full-length veils are present, but infrequent. Niqabs, however, are much more prevalent, though still not worn by the majority of Omani women.
Now for the Gents. In Oman, men are required to wear traditional dress while at work or on official business. This means that many men wear a lightweight, white, ankle-length dress, or dishdasha, during the day. At night, younger men are more likely to be seen donning western clothes, though whether or not this is proper is disputed between older and younger generations.
Typically, Omani men wear caps called kummas, which come in a variety of colors, but have a consistent design and shape. Men also wear turban-like coverings called muzzars, which represent a man's tribe, status, and region, make it easy to understand who is around you.
It is important to identify the norm so it can be understood why it is the norm and what that means for westerners who see the culture and interpret it through their own framework rather than through the frame used by the culture being observed.
With that said, three (of the many) points of influence on a culture's traditional dress is its geography, history and religion. Geography and history are deeply intertwined, so I will combine them into a single point. Oman's geography lent itself to a history of nomadic and merchant lifestyles. People dressed accordingly, and these traditions have been carried into present day. Head coverings, abayas, and dishdashas are long, light, and breathable. They provide protection from the strong desert sun. Niqabs and burqas also serve as a form of protection from the elements, but they have another purpose; niqabs and burqas, like muzzars, can represent a person's status, wealth, and tribe.
Now let's add religion to the mix. I am not going to, nor am I able to, parse the influence of history from the influence of religion in regards to cultural norms– especially in a region where they are so deeply intertwined. All I will offer here is that in some of my conversations, women have said they choose to wear these outfits because of the culture and not because of their religious interpretations. In other words, if these specific women were to live in the States, they might wear western clothes, but with a hijab or hat. This is not true of every woman, but identifying the rationale behind a person's actions helps us to understand the culture and reframe the way we interpret it.
What does this mean for our interpretation of Omani modesty? Let's take a look at the facts: Both men and women are covered from wrist to ankle. I have never seen an Omani man in shorts, just like I have never seen an Omani woman in shorts. Men, like women, have their heads covered in official settings. Additionally, both men and women's clothes, while modest, were not originally chosen based on modesty; they protected the wearer from the elements, represented wealth and family connections, and highlighted beauty. The niqab defines the most striking feature of a person- the eyes– and it too (to a certain extent), like the muzzar, is a display of status.
I am not pretending that there is gender equality here, because there isn't. But, I think it is important to recognize our misperceptions. Western interpretations of other cultures' concepts of modesty are often too simplistic and don't account for all of the pieces at play. Not only are men and women both traditionally "modest", but what is considered "oppressive" or "modest" also specifically highlights features associated with beauty. Modesty, wherever it is being studied, is not simple. I offer these experiences and discoveries to you, reader, as a framework to provide insight into cultures in the Middle East and cause reflection on our own culture. Different is not bad, it's simply unfamiliar. And before we judge, we should seek first to understand.
Wow. There's so much to catch up on! Humor me as I excitedly give you a ton of unnecessary detail.
Wadi Shab Excursion:
Beginning a hike with a boat ride across a river should have signaled to me the epic-ness that was about to happen. We walked along a gravel path that led us through a canyon, passing gardens with palm trees and new, green plants just beginning to sprout. It was cool, lush, and peaceful. The sun was blocked by the massive canyon walls, allowing us to observe the beauty around us without the view being adulterated by sunglasses.
The protection of the canyon walls soon left, leaving us exposed to the hot sun, as we climbed over boulders and looked down the cliffside at the turquoise blue waters of the wadi below. Eventually we reached a rock covered in backpacks and clothes. This was it. From here on out, we were in our swimsuits. We awkwardly stripped off our top layers, and hopped into the clear, cool water. From here until about five minutes to the end, we did a mixture of swimming, bouldering, wading, unintentional underwater moss skiing, and falling. It was refreshing, exciting, hilarious, and epic.
About five minutes from the end, we jumped into a deeper pool and swam in the deep blue water towards a crack in the canyon wall. As we squeezed through the hole, we held onto the wall, simultaneously paddling hard to keep our heads above the water and pulling ourselves through the crack. Inside the cave was a blue-green pool, lit by streams of sunlight piercing through the rocky ceiling, causing the waterfall to shimmer. There was a rope hanging from the falls, inviting people to climb and jump. A couple of us did, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. Not this time.
Eventually we decided to head back to the cars and towards the sinkhole. I'm not normally an out-and-back hiker, I like experiencing new environments and scenery, but this time I was stoked to see it all again as we went to retrieve our gear.
As we approached the sinkhole, the only signal that something important was ahead was a rail that circled the top of the hole. It might have looked unassuming, but once we stepped up to the edge, we saw a massive, 66-foot-deep hole in the ground filled with dark blue-green water. What did we decide to do? Naturally, find a nice cliff and jump in! A worthy goal that took a bit of finagling to execute... I have never been so glad for a little bit of experience rock climbing. The route to our desired jumping point had us clinging to handholds as we inched along the wall, and scooting across rough rock. But, eventually we made it! (Much to my fear of height's dismay...) Luckily, the jump made it all worth it.
We ended the day looking out onto even more stunning blue-green water as we talked and sunned on a cliff along the coast, .
Royal Opera House:
I looked at my reflection one last time, touched up my lipstick and dotted perfumed oil under my jaw, and excitedly dashed out the door. Ten minutes later, our group walked through massive wooden doors and into the stunning marble structure. Inside, my eyes could hardly take in all the beautiful patterns and carvings lined with gold and bathed warm light. All around us were Omanis dressed to the nines. Welcome to the Muscat Royal Opera House.
One of the best ways to experience a culture is by listening to their music. So, when our group heard that the opera house was having a night of traditional Arabic music, we thought it would be a great way to spend an evening. The music was beautiful and intriguing. The minor keys draw you in and paint hauntingly beautiful images of bedouin tribes circled around fires in the desert, sharing the stories of old Arabia. It was a night of beautiful music and people.
Wakan Village, Hot Springs, and Goat Dinner:
Once again I found myself rolling out of bed at the crack of dawn to go hike. It's a nice way to live, that is, if you get enough sleep, which this time I did not. The car was quiet for nearly three full hours as we made our way to Wakan. I slept enough to tide me over, but not so much that I missed the mountains– not that you could miss them; jebel Al Hajar rivals the Sierra Nevada.
As we drove, I counted camels and date palms through the side window, enjoying the warm sun on my face. The more remote the road became, the more fixated I was on the sheer magnitude of the mountains that surrounded me. Next thing I knew, we were in the mountains. I looked up and spotted a teeny little town performing a balancing act near one of the peaks. "I know we are going to a mountain village," I thought, "but imagine if it were that one. I don't even see a road! I wonder how people get there..." Little did I know, not only were we going up the mountain to that tiny village resting 2000m above sea level, but we were going to do it by going up a dirt road where it was absolutely necessary to have four wheel drive. Kids, don't try this at home.
Needless to say, we made it, and it was stunning. The air was cool and refreshing in the hot sun, which made ideal hiking weather. Wakan village was beautiful, with panoramic views of the valley and mountains at every turn and terrace gardens shaded by date palm trees. One stone path and 700 stairs later, we reached the lookout tower. We were far up the mountain now, looking down, yes down, onto Wakan. What did we do once we made it to the tower? Go off roading, of course! There was a marked trail that went beyond the lookout tower and further up into the mountains, so we just ambled up the rocks. The path was narrow, full of loose, gravelly rock, which kept us on our toes. One misstep and you're going home, or at least dropping quite a ways onto a nice boulder. Eventually, we found a picturesque rock and decided to rest there, take in the view, and eat pomegranates. I'm not sure when pomegranates became ideal hiking food, but they've made their way onto every one of our hikes, and we're always happy for a sweet pick-me-up.
Getting back to the lookout tower was harder than getting out to our rock, but that's how it always goes, right? After a light lunch overlooking the valley, we were on our way to Nakhal fort and hot springs.
While none of us were happy to see more stairs, the intrigue of Nakhal fort drew us in through the heavy, studded wooden doors. (Fun fact: Nakhal fort was occupied until the 1970's. That's crazy recent!!) We roamed the peachy-brown building, climbed up walls and into towers, and enjoyed the cool shade and impressive views.
After deciding that we had sufficiently explored the fort, we made our way to the hot springs, which were peppered with people either playing in the geothermal water or sitting on rocks, letting the fish nip at their heels. Yes, you read that right. Not only is the spring known for its warm water, but also for the little fish that love to suck the dead skin right off your foot. It may sound gross, but let me tell you, it's worth the experience. Ticklish people be warned, it's a hilarious feeling. The three of us girls were standing in the middle of the springs, laughing until our sides hurt as our little friends made our feet as soft as cotton balls.
Our Arabic teacher, Muhammad, showed up at the springs to guide us to his house, signaling the end of our time at the springs and the beginning of the next part of the day– the goat dinner. The group, with our re-born feet, made our way to the cars and down the date palm-lined road to Muhammad's farm. Muhammad's family prepared a traditional Omani goat dinner for us, which we demolished. Men and women sat in separate circles, per tradition, though the circles were right next to each other and in perfect proximity to have a competition to see who could eat more of the goat on their dish. It's safe to say the girls lost, though we put in a fair fight. In our defense, it was a ton of food. Each group had a platter with half of an entire goat sitting on a bed of spiced rice. Luckily, the meal was amazing, so we had no problem indulging our inner gluttons.
The end of the meal was signaled by all of us leaning back, exposing both our food babies and the circle of rice around our laps that didn't make it to our mouths– eating with your hands is harder than we give credit. But just when we thought we could hold no more, Muhammad brought out date-syrup donuts. As a rule, one always has room for Omani date-syrup donuts.
We said our thank you's and goodbye's as our blood-sugar continued to skyrocket, and piled into the cars to head back to the Centre, leaving with both our hearts and our stomachs full.
As always, thank you for taking the time to tune in for my adventures and learn alongside me!
Now, may you find beauty in difference; may you find strength in culture; and may you go fearlessly into the world and discover what unites us all.
Salaam,
Anna