Reflections

I started writing this earlier and then obviously didn't post it until now. The ISP is now done, and I have a small amount of free time and a couple formal events between me and the airport. Don't plan on coming to an internet place again, so here's the last post from Oman.

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So here I am. I’m about to leave Oman in about a week. I have one more interview set up for my ISP. Other than that, I’m trying to write write write, since the ISP is due on the 11th. I’ve been coming to the local mall more than usual---this is the spot where I can get internet since there are at least three coffe shops with wi-fi around. It’s a different Oman than the one I live in most of the time.

It’s been a good experience, and I do feel a bit of regret that I didn’t spend more time describing things on this blog. Whoever came up with the idea of studying abroad for a semester was an intelligent person. I feel like I’ve learned a lot, and I’ve become more curious about many things. I’m sure I’ll be telling stories about Oman, and comparing and contrasting Oman to wherever I am for years to come.

Here’s a list of some things I’ll miss/some things I’m choosing to appreciate now. There have been some times in the last month where I’ve definitely felt “ready” to go “home”---with the obvious disclaimer that my image of home is actually quite a number of places. There have also been times where I’ve been very aware of what I’ll miss, and others where I’ve started counting what my stipulations would be if I wanted to live here permanently. Anyways, here’s the list, in no particular order.

Call to prayer: it’s iconic of the region. It reminds me that this is a different place, whenever I hear it. It’s almost always beautiful and moving. Despite the fact that I don’t go to a mosque to pray whenever I hear it, it reminds me of spiritual realities, especially as I get to understand the words more…”Allaaaaaaahu Akbar!...” –“God is the greatest!..” It’s a reminder of faith, of the foundations of worldviews—and it’s made evident five times a day. It’s great.

My host family: I’ll miss everyone’s eccentricities. Saad’s intense interest in the subtleties of western lifestyles, his sense of humor, his sense of what is proper, his efforts to speak proper fusha (standard Arabic) with me, his desire that I not only do well, but be the best in my class (very father like I guess). I’ll miss my host brothers and sisters. They’ve come to annoy me like real brothers and sisters, and thus endear themselves as well. I’ll miss Selma’s begging for attention, her lisped Arabic that I barely ever understand. I’ll miss Suleiman’s raw boyishness, and Ali’s oldest child seriousness. I’ll miss the youngest Sarah’s extreme love for handing me everything in the house. And won’t miss her temper tantrums.

Dates: The fruit. They’re great, we eat them all the time. That’s it.

Goats on the road. The dirt roads in Wadi Al-Alawami. The bbq/goat market area where I get off the taxi busses when I’m headed home.

Walks to Seeb Beach. The ocean is beautiful everywhere, and great for reflection. The absence of actual swimming (or swim suits) gives a nice touch to the beach. There are always fisherman lounging around on their little motor boats, waiting for night to come so they can head out for fish and return in the morning.

I will miss the extreme desire of Omanis to present their country, their village, their traditions, their language, and their religion in the absolute best light possible. It honestly irks me sometimes and seems and is somewhat prideful, but it’s also indicative of some cultural strengths.

Hospitality. I’ve learned to doubt the sincerity of those who only invite me to their house a couple times. I still am trying to understand what’s behind the idea that a guest honors the host rather than vice versa.

Hookah coffee shops. I honestly haven’t smoked much, but have hung out in them fairly often. Chilling with other SIT’ers, discussing the Arab world and our experiences while being drowned out by the Lebanese version of “American Idol”, a soccer game, or Oprah on tv.

Coke in glass bottles.

Speaking in Arabic. Arabic is a tough language to attain fluency in. I’m nowhere near there, but I love pretending I am and busting out my retinue of colloquial words with taxi drivers and strangers to see what they think.

People assuming I’m an Arab. It relieves my white guilt, and makes me feel like I must speak Arabic better than I do. I’ve had guesses range from Morocco to Syria. And then there’s always that, “well, actually I’m….American” and then waiting to see what their opinion of America is…

Dirt Soccer fields.

Frankincense. It gets burned in the house every day. I knew I would associate its smell with Oman after only 2 days in country.


Maselama!