Cultural Observances: from the inside of Omani daily life

I remember my Omani homegirl R saying, and I quote: "You'd love Omani culture less if you were actually Omani."

And classic KH: "Trade passports? You love my country, take it. I want out."

It has always GREATLY amused my Omani friends that I love things from Omani culture that they are slowly rejecting, such as regional dress, certain handicrafts, Omani history, Omani stories, ect... and I had always thought it was very foolish of friends like R & KH to reject their culture for my highly commercialized, melting pot one. Well, not mine familially (as I have a very colourful family who have never quite been amalgomated into their society), but mine nationally anyways, just to add for clarification.

But now, from within the culture, I begin to understand why R favours jeans over sirwaal, and rejects niqab [the face veil], and why KH is so disatisfied with his role in society and longs for the advantages of freedom depite having to do barely nothing to subsist in Omani culture.

From within the culture, that I still love, I know all the things of the culture, good and bad, that cannot be so easily rejected and set aside. KH & R cannot do anything other than what is the norm in their famillies. They wear Western clothes, eat Western food, don't know alot about Oman, and the good things about it, and I hate this.

But I begin to understand the act of rejection as a means to protest the things that they wish they were able to reject.

Dhofari girls that happen to write about rejecting the niqab (face veil) don't really reject the niqab as the Islamic message it represents. They represent their lack of choice with the niqab of the symbol of their ignorant or uneducated relatives. This confuses expats, causes controversy in the Muslim Ummah, but at least, now I get it.

KH wishes to abstain from the wasta system. He longs for an Islamic (not Omani) marriage.

R also longs for an Islamic marriage. She longs for the time when an Omani woman doing something not sinful and even good for herself even if it goes contrary to the norm in the family will not be considered a crime in the society worse than adultery and murder. R admits if she murdered someone, her family would probably forgive her and support her, but if she chose to marry someone of the wrong tribe name, she'd be out in the cold and called "siflah" an arabic swearword similiar to "b*&^" but meaning "one who has gone out". The same thing would happen to her is she supported another family member doing the same.

Now that I am within the bounds of Omani society, and fall subject to the laws and traditions of MOP's tribe (apparently, if I drive a Mustang, I'll be a "bad girl" lol :XD same goes for a sporty jeep or wearing a colourful headscarf in certain village places) I find my powers to reject things to be limited in some cases (not by MOP himself) so I fight for things that are NOT important.

I never really desired to wear open style abayas at all. Not really my fave style. But I found myself fighting for the right to wear them even though it was not important to me.

Or hearing an ignorant Omani saying "9/11 was the Jews, and I hate America" and only able to give "Palestine" as a reason for that when I ask them why.

Not aware, apparently, that the Turkish Caliphate allying itself with Hitler not being half the reason, or that the Cheks armed Israel in its early days, not the USA, ect, ect, ect.

Read Bernard's "The Crisis of Islam" to understand better. Decent book, though he misuses the term "Wahabi" quite extensively. He means "Saudi jurisprudence" not exactly "Wahabi". Anyways.

I have realized, that fighting for things that are not important to me is hypocritical. Just as hypocritical as my friends, who I had judged as foolish for rejecting the worthy things in their culture and societies, who do not rebell against the true causes of their discontent state in life.

So while I will continue to fight, embracing everything in Omani culture that is not unislamic, I will not fight just to prove I have fight in me. No success or change or even satisfaction can come from that, just exhaustion.

A Honeymoon in Paris for OPNO????

OPNO might be going to..... France.

What? And leave beautiful Oman? I thought you said you'd honeymoon here. Afterall, you talked your good friends into it.

Well, part of my family is from France. And the honeymoon in France wasn't my idea, it was MOP's. I told him my history, and he wants to Chateaus and trees and things. He's been to Europe before, and enjoyed. And he has friends there. And he thinks that I can translate, which I, well, cannot. London was more my dream holiday.

So I haven't confirmed, but he wants to go. When I amass enough coporate hours to deserve some vactions ones. Which is tentative.

I wish I could upload some wonderful eye candy photos of French style, and foods.

It'll be my excuse to get some lovely trendy colorful abayas made, and to by a capelet coat, and gloves. You simply cannot go to Paris without living the dream of "la vie en rose" can you not?

Anyways, until then, I will content myself with dreams of petit fours, and buying faux Louis Vuitton for my little sis in Bajha.

Fond Childhood Memories of Christmas in Oman and This Holiday

Yay! Another holiday approaches, and I STILL can't take off the anti-image software I've got on my computer:'( so no glam pics.

Most of you expats from my end of the world will probably be celebrating Christmas. Which, I have fond memories of from my days before I was Muslim in Oman.

Let us reminisce together.

First, there was Mum 'f'ing' off the Christmas tree because the strands of small pearl lights were one-strand only, so when one minscule light burnt out, the whole lot of 'em went off, and she had to UN-decorate the whole bloomin' tree to find the culprit. So I think the tree was decorated and undecorated and re-strung with lights at least four or five times before Christmas day.

Inviting the houseboy to Christmas dinner because Mum thought he was a Christian.... Well.... he was Budhist, and our tales of Santa Clause and Frosty the Snow man scared the crap out of him. Apparently a giant cold hunk of ice jumping around and alive and an old man who watches you while you are sleeping, judging you, is a scary notion.

Go figure! lol.

Also, because alot of our friends in Oman weren't used to sitting at the dining table with forks and knives and spoons, we got to eat Christmas turkey WITH OUR HANDS:D!!!!!! Oh, you bet I loved it, though Grandma would have died of shock.

Mum getting frusterated that she could get an abaya embroidered but not X-mas stockings. Not that we HAD a fireplace.

So we drove off to Nakhl:) best DAY eveRRRRRRRRRRR! in Oman, courtesy the old Toyota pick-up truck.

On to this holiday: as a Muslim I will not be celebrating alas. It's just another day in the year for me. But I will be doing some shopping in Mutrah if my pay is on time, so keep an eye out for me there;)

TALES FROM CANADA: The Saudis and the Trees

My little sis is one of those teenagers who'd rather play video games than go dune bashing or see an old fort. And she is one of those people who say the most random of things and doesn't judge a social situation well and leaves everyone in the room to look at her like "WTH????!!!"

But she is honestly one of the funniest people I know... when she isn't trying to make anyone laugh.

You know, when she is bored out of her mind, and just says whatever is there with no point in mind.

Back on a vacation in Canada she once [was forced] by our father to go on a tour of an ancient old growth forest. You know, the kind that has trees so big that cars can drive through them? [If you are Omani, probably not]. Anyways...

Well on this tour, there were alot of Japanese, and Arab exchange students, including a group that my father NOW can identify as Saudis. [Sorry, there are no Omanis in this tale, alas]. Well the tour guide was telling them exactly how old the trees were, that the dated back before Jesus (Isa, alahi salaam) and the tour guide was saying to the Saudis, who were OBVIOUSLY impressed by the sheer size and age of the these trees:

"Imagine what these trees would tell us about the world if they could talk!" [Tour guide operator, in awe]

OPNO's little sis [totally NOT impressed with arms folded over her chest, and bored out of her]: "NOT very MUCH, I'd imagine. Since they've been sitting in one spot for all that time. WHYYYYYYYYYY didn't we go to the movies, Dad, INSTEAD!"

The faces of all the exchange students were struck by her simple, albeit spoiled brat logic.

OPNOLILSIS: "Ooooooooooooh look! I am a tree! I saw a stupid pinecone fall! And alot of squirrels!

SAME DAMN thing WE saw today! Only that poor tree had to see it for thousands of years! He'd tell us, 'go to the mall' or 'go out for dinner' 'Do SOMETHING WITH YOUR LIVES!' 'At least you are not a boring-stuck-in-one-spot tree like me.'

The tour operator honestly did not know what to say.

I wonder if she ruined the experience for the Saudi exchange students, lol.

How does one tell their parents they got married without telling them?...

So I got married! YAyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! [and a long hard struggle it was, in a manner of speaking. So now what? With "I'll be home for Christmas" rining in my ears with my little sister begging me for a return vacation... I don't know exactly what to do. See, flashback to KH and I just before my big day, via our mobiles.

KH [pre-wedding]: "I am happy for you sis, but did you tell your parents you are getting married?"

OPNO: "." [KH, as an Arab, OBVIOUSLY has more respect for family than I do, one would suppose, silyl Westerner me].
Yeah, no, I didn't. To which, knowing KH, his advice would have been, "You have to. They are your parents. Its about respect."Well, I DID tell them I was engaged, which... probably, makes me LESS of a demon child, right?

[Bites nails].K, so I got married alot sooner than my parents would approve of. To someone they don't know, have never met or even heard of (beyond my recent off-hand engaged comment), after doing a tonne of things I know they DON'T approve of (including moving away)... So.I think just brining MOP to the airport will scare the heck out of them [dishdasha and all-despite them being used to my abayas] sooooo... Can I get away with a quick lie about getting married in our home country during Christmas break????? I mean, as a Muslim, I don't celebrate Christmas, but I've always wanted a Christmas themed wedding (you know to cut out on costs) as food and decorations as well as family getting together is already accounted for anyway? So this coward cop out will likely leave friends to wonder, how many weddings will this OPNO rack under her belt but only be married the THE MAN? I could beat ELizabeth Taylor and keep the same husband, perhaps.

At least I'd have an excuse to buy an AWESOME red ball gown I have been DROOLING over.

Personal Reflections on Addictions

I had two previous addictions, both of of which I have happily kicked. This was preIslam ya'll, and I know people say, don't reveal your sins, but that is sins that can make people attack Islam or make one look bad, and these can't anymore. Really, sometimes, I have found, it helps other people to know that one isn't perfect, and you have gone through things they are going through, instead of being this cold, distant, monument of perfection. Which, only an idiot, would have EVER ever ever have maybe for AN INSTANT imagined this of OPNO lol.
a. I used to be a bit of a lush. No one even knew this was a problem for me because I have always been the social butterfly, and no one ever seemed to notice when I was drunk or not because I was the girl who'd always dance and say her mind. Plus my general social environment almost encouraged drinking 24/7. But I admit, I was spending quite alot on expensive liquors, and told myself, that since they were at least classy drinks, I didn't have a problem. If I started drinking crap, then I'd seek help. But since the money never ran out, and people always thoughts I was fun, I didn't have a problem.Due to alcohol being forbidden in Islam, I kind of managed this one cold turkey, with albeit, one minor slip up in the Bengal Lounge where they made champagne icebubes. Hey, if you are going to slip out but only once, you might as well do it royally. I honestly don't miss pork and alchohal at all, since in Oman, they make things that taste like pork porkless (such as pepperoni, jello {who'd of thunk?}, and hawaiian pizza), and the only thing I ever crave is red wine, which, I overcome with Ben&Jerry's and an amazing assortment of fresh fruit juices. My health (and wallet) have never been healthier. The Bengal Lounge was never cheap.
b. I was a bit of a shopoholic. I would lie about how much the things I bought cost. I would hide credit card reciepts. But since I was always relatively well paid this never seemed to effect me at all, unlike Carrie Bradshaw "If I don't stop shopping, I'll end up a bag lady; a Fendi bag lady, but a bag lady..... "-- Carrie from Sex and the City. But it truly was an addiction, as I have come to define an addiction as something one depends on to deal with the bad things in their life, instead of finding a way to get rid of those bad things, or change them to good. In the words of Shopoholic character Rebecca Bloomwood: "When I shop, the world gets better, and the world is better, but then it's not, and I need to do it again." If you feel that way about ANYTHING, you kind of have an addiction.
Addictions can be used in a positive manner. Ie I turned my shopping addiction into a career for a while, and that way, it didn't interfere with my daily life, but then, when I'd dealt with the underlying issues causing me to depend on it as a stress outlet, I got bored, and one could say, better. I still use observing beautiful things and inpration sites as a destressor. We all use our minute addictions to elp us through the grind, but I no longer depend on this visual stimulation and creative expression to solve whatever caused me to be upset in the first place. Here in the Gulf (Oman tends to fare better in general due to Omanis not being as rich and affluent as some of their neighbors per the general population) I see alot of women addicted to shopping. They shop to control their boredom which come from having no role. We get up, we eat, we take care of the kids, we take care of our husband (ie maritial relations), and we have no goals, no aspirations, no hobbbies. THIS CAN DRIVE ONE TO ADDICTION.

A similiar thing happens to alot of expat wives in Oman, and some of them pick up shopping and others alcohol, as the drugs of choice to deal with boredom, lack of personal direction. Just wanted to say to any woman out there going through this, find something that interests you that you can build on, and deal with whatever it is that makes you unhappy, and you're life will get richer.

From Here to There: personal post about homesicknesses

The top pic, that'd probably be me (though less formally attired, as it IS predicted to SNOW today back home) today, if I were not in Oman, rather, spending the morning as seen directly below it, having pink orange juice on a villa rooftop in the sunshine. I'll admit, the cold back home always nearly killed me.

Today I woke up, and I really, really, REALLY miss my little sis. And my {insert OPNO's national/regional/what have you identity here} girls. I mean, Omani girls, I LOVE you, I truly, truly do, but I get the Shebab of Oman, more than the Banaat of Oman. I just don't really fit, and I'll admit, because of my well-travelled-ness, I rarely fit anywhere {as I CAN fit anywhere}, but my homegirls, B, B, L, C, and Am, you understand my idea of fun, you understand what life IS. And I miss you Ange of V. I was laughing with MOP about funny stories of us two girls and our sweaters and lunches. We really had it all (though Ange was more monster truck rally;) and I was more horseback riding but hey) and we didn't even know it, the best of the city, and a true country life.

Thanks Dad, I never realized********You had to work really hard for that, and I probably was never grateful enough. Actually I was a brat, and rather spoiled, but I am not anymore, I promise. But I haven't changed my pickiness!!!! I still know what I want in life but now I am going out to get it, instead of expecting it to all work out magically, which we know, didn't exactly work out for Cinderella and her pumpkin. If the shoe hadn't really been her's, if it had really been a spoon transformed by a spell or something, well, the Prince would have had nothing to go on, and Cindy would have been screwed. I still conclude, that chick was pretty lazy. And lazy I am not, thanks to you. Love you!!!!

And little sis, I just miss ya. I miss having hot cocoa while you make spiced apple cider. I miss Baba fussing with the house, and getting splinters in my fingers from the firewood. We had a fireplace, didn't we? :). Imagine me calling you tonight and saying that I am visiting (which I am not since my work can't even get me a good honeymoon yet:( ). Just imagine it.

Baba can pick me from the airport. You can pet my Baby because of course I won't fly without her (which some will think ridiculous but this visit is pure fantasy of course). She can lounge by the fireplace while MOP wonders at the sight of trees, and Baba wonders at the sight of MOP (who will always be wearing dishdasha because he's a 'Real Omani' whatever that means).

First we'll take Baba and MOP for long walks by our home in the valley (show MOP, well at least in a way, I am a village girl too, though I know the tack room and chickens, and little about goats) so Baba can get used to MOP. They will bond over nature, because MOP is very likeable, and Baba is... only scary when you tell people he was a great Greco-roman wrestler, and good at boxing. MOP might be slightly taller. That's good... don't you think? And you will ask me, why all the men that fall in love with me seem to professional sports players somehow when I was the one who refused to date the guy with the car and the basketball in highschool, and went for the one with the books and one way ticket out of that town. God/Allah works in mysterious ways, and honestly, I have no clue.

You and I sis, can go to the library, because the librarian is my favourite woman in the whole village besides K. I love reading by the fireplace, which you and I would always fight over. if you want to watch a movie, I'll let you choose it. Harry Potter or Amanda Bynes it is then, and I won't even argue. So long as it is not in Janpanese dubbed to English, in that case I refuse. We'll take MOP to see the river, so he can show you guys the wadi and the falaj when you visit.

We'll show him Auntie G's and and Boxie will be there too.

And I promise to go shopping with you every friday after you come with me to the Mosque and are forced to dress up in onion-smelling hijab hand-me-downs in order to do so, while you misunderstand the khutbah. And I promise I won't even critique your choices in clothes like I used to do because I love you little sis, whoever you are, because you always loved me for who I am, face veil or not. I MISS YOOOOOOOOOOUUUUUUU***************

And place where I grew up, while I'll never move back to you, I do miss you from time to time. You are definately a great vacation for me.

DAILY DIARY: A New Home

I can hardly believe it. ALHAMDULILAH!!! Next week (or the following) I am moving into my new home, a villa next to a farm (close to the city) where I get to keep camels (yes, until I can save for horses, and because I promised my friends from back in the West if they come to visit me they can ride camels to their hearts' content), where I can ride close to the beach. Though my husband said he WILL divorce me if I insist on riding into town on a camel to get my groceries when I have an Omani driver. Which I ONLY JOKED about doing. I never would. I am not THAT majnoonah lol. BTW, I am no rich spoilt girl, I worked hard, and pay for this MYSELF:D praise Allah. Kh and B will likely remember the girl who came to Oman bearing one suitcase stuffed with two ballgowns, one feather pillow, one blanket, a pair of rollarblades, one box of photos, many lipsticks lost to an Omani man's insistance that OPNO looks better without lipstick, and a toothbrush. She stubbornly subsisted on schwarma, raman noodles, and lemons (the lemons she pinched off of her neighbor's trees stealthily) until she found a good job, with much thanks ado to the couchsurfing community in Muscat, Y, C, KH himself, and Al F clan who mistook me for a forgotten cousin last Eid. Also Suburban for cheering me up with her wonderful posts+CB;). All the shebab, for ur wasta, lol, that got me this far. Yes, I would have lived in a tent situated on Seeb roundabout rather than go back to my country:) such is my love for your land that you would trade passports with me anyday for, would our governments allow.

Throwing a Divorce Party in Oman: A social faux pas or...something needed to change the system

Do people ever really read the advice written in their wedding cards? I mean, before they are going through them, trying to decide what to get rid of and what to keep because they are now trying to move on from the point of divorce?

Holding one such wedding card right now, they write some PRETTY GOOD advice in there, those folks from Hallmark.

EX 1: “If you treat eachother kindly with compassion and with trust, and always let your tender feelings show… If you understand your differences, respecting who you are, and put eachother first in all you do… Your marriage will be beautiful, a reason to feel proud, a special source of love your whole lives through.”

I just read Victoria’s post on marriage in Oman here http://sultanatesocial.blogspot.com/2010/10/divorce-unfortunate-phenomenon.html and the resultant comments, and rather than comment directly, I decided to use my thoughts on the subject as fuel for a new post.

Andy wrote a comment on Victoria’s post asking the question; “Can’t we condemn divorce but not the divorcee?”

ISLAMIC STANDPOINT ON DIVORCE
This is actually the practice in Islam, because God/Allah states that divorce is the most hated to Him of all the practices legal to mankind. Unlike Biblical Christianity, which states, “what God has joined let no man tear asunder” Islam allows divorce, yet at the same time, it is hated by God, which means it is to be avoided under all circumstances. In Islam, a woman is allowed to divorce a man simply for the reason on never being able to be happy while married to him. [This means, she cannot be happy with him under any circumstances not that she may or may not be happier with another!]. But Islam does not dictate that the divorced man or woman are hated by Allah, as Zayed, one of the first Muslims, was considered one of the best of the Muslims, and Zaenab, Zayed’s ex-wife, after her divorce, became wife to the Prophet Mohamed (peace and blessings be upon him), and thus one of the examples to womankind as to how Muslim women are to behave. Also, Jameelah bint Ubayy (a wife of the Prophet S.A.W) after her divorce from Thaabit ibn Qays Ibn Shammaas, shows us that divorce [hated by God/Allah] does not taint the divorcee should there be a reason for the divorce.

OMANI CULTURAL STANDPOINT ON DIVORCE
I am a divorced woman living in Oman. Divorcees aren’t very highly thought of in Oman, though all my Omani friends who were aware of my marital status were very understanding about it and never treated me any differently, and it actually never DID affect me remarrying (I am relatively young and childless). But those same understanding friends, and some suitors, despite their PERSONAL acceptance of my being a divorcee, issued the following advice upon hearing of my sorry state and elaborating on how great I am despite: “…but don’t tell anybody.”
That’s just it. “Don’t tell anybody.”
My question. “Why not?”
Why should I hide in secret that I was married before, hmmm? Marriage is halal, divorce is even halal. I mean, it wouldn’t EXACTLY be the first thing I’d bring up in a conversation with people, but telling the story of my life, or thinking about getting married again, it would actually be practical to get it out of the way. It would be lying to keep that from a potential husband or even my close friends.
So my Omani girlfriend S was horrified when I told her I was going to throw myself a “Divorce Party” [a common practice in my home country]. She pictured a bunch of women dressed in sweatsuits and/or pajamas dresses angrily playing pin-the-tail on the donkey (or darts) on a blown-up picture of the ex, and burning all the pictures of him and his clothes, then going out shopping maxing out his credit card.
Maybe you want to do this if you ex is a adulterer/cheater, I don’t know, but personally, that really wouldn’t help me get over a cheater if I loved him. And as a Muslim, that’s really not what I’d be ALLOWED TO DO to the worst of men.
And my ex husband wasn’t a cheater or a bad guy at all. In fact, he was and remains a very good man, and great man, just not MY man, and that, not without a lack of trying on both our parts. Sometimes, some things just aren’t meant to be, the situation or what both parties need in life, is not the same, and one cannot compromise their ideals for themselves.
I loved my ex husband. In fact, I still love him. I will ALWAYS love him. I was, at one time, absolutely certain that I would spend the rest of my life with him, and I never pictured that maybe one day we would not be able to speak or see each other and share what touched us in our daily lives.
So there is a little problem with that. #1 being that despite all that love and the good times there is the terrible heart-wrenching pain of not being able to work it out, and #2, well, the fact that I am, well, married now, to someone else.
Someone else. Who I love. Who loves me despite the fact that HE KNOWS I was married before, and am still deeply in love with my ex-husband.
This of course, drove him incredibly insane, him being Omani.
Omani men who ARE okay with marrying a divorced woman often expect the woman they marry to be able to pretend that she never had another life before him. I was unwilling and unable to do this. It lead him to tear up some of my wedding photos in a bit of a rage, unable to understand how I could not let the past go.
‘But the past is part of who I am’… I remember thinking in my defense in the middle of that first fight. ‘I wouldn’t be the same woman in a position to make her marriage work NOW had I not had the experiences of my marriage before.’
A woman really cannot be in love with two men at the same time. It NEVER works out.
THAT is WHY a divorce party.
A divorce party isn’t really a party but a social situation for the man or the woman to deal with everything they need to in order to move on, and to have social support while they do so.
My divorce party did involve comfort foods. It did involve one girlfriend. The plan was to get rid of what would forever hinder any chance of moving on, and to transform anything painful into only good memories, letting the bad ones go.
First up was to transform the wedding album into a divorce album. Thinking of divorce as a chain of events that has now brought me as a woman to a new beginning with new life knowledge, this meant editing a lot of chain events forever commemorated on film. Being married also meant getting rid of pictures of the ex husband and camouflaging the album from being anything “bridal” and “special”.
Weddings photos are special because we generally like the photos of ourselves from this special day. I began by cutting out all the pictures of my first husband that were easy for me to do so, throwing out anything I didn’t want to keep, keeping ones of me with family and friends, and trying to keep all face shots of my first husband to give to him. The goal was to make a new album showing how much my family and friends loved me and were with me and how nice I looked and how happy I was, remembering only happy memories of my first husband remain without his physical presence.
Some photos though, ones with romantic feeling attached to them, I could neither bear to cut nor to throw out. It would also be cruel to give them to husband #1, so I did the next best thing. I gave them as a gift to a mutual friend of ours who regards the day as one with her friends, and not with any pain. I had to get rid of them, but I could not destroy them, nor could I change the feelings conjured by them, so I passed them on to someone who could value them without keeping me in the past at dangerous times in my new relationship.
When I was finished, I felt healed a little, for I had not belittled or disrespected any memories of him, but I had kept only those that were not painful for me (and were appropriate) for me to have.
Now, I understand, a lot of Arab men would not tolerate ANYTHING from their woman’s past, but I explained to H that I kept nothing of a romantic or even friendship related nature, and kept only those of a familial nature.
I thus edited my closet and other processions the same.
I also wrote myself, the way I had my wedding vows, vows for how to love and make a relationship a success in the future, from what I had learned in the past.
Then, having concluded my divorce party, I dressed in a fabulous new dress, and ate a small wedding cake with a group of girlfriends. And my cat had the yummy whipped cream.
I still love my ex-husband. The way that I love him is from everything good in the past and nothing can take that (nor should take that) from my memory but severe blunt trauma to the head, which I DID recommend to H, should he not be able to cope with this fact. I offered him a very solid assa to swing at me. H called me “Majnoonah” as per usual. All I could do was get rid of everything painful that kept me from experiencing everything happy in life, and everything of a romantic nature.
1.) To my first husband, some people will say we married too young. Had we never married though, and we married right now, I believe I’d make the same mistakes, if I had not had the opportunity to learn from the ones I made while trying to be married to you ;)
2.) To my husband H, to erase the past because you think I will have less room in my heart for you, is to change what made me have that heart that you desire so ardently in that first place, and is similar to implying that Allah made a mistake to write things as He writ. Believe ME, I HAVE NO INTENTION of rewriting my past with you, but I don’t believe in book burnings either;) *******
3.) To the people of Oman, and indeed, the world: Divorcees do need recognition and support, not to be hidden and discriminated against. If divorce itself is to be hated, help PEOPLE overcome it, do not keep them in a state OF IT. They were married before. Would you rather they just went about fornicating and never marrying in order to learn the lessons needed to make a successful relationship in society? Really? If they tried, help them to try again anew.
I could summon many of Victoria’s points on how to avoid divorce and reasons not to divorce, things I have learned from BEING PREVIOUSLY MARRIED, but most people learn best from their own mistakes and life experiences, but valuing marriage, and valuing the people in the marriage and their aspirations even BEFORE marriage, are the most important. Realize what a GIFT LOVE IS, and don’t neglect a MOMENT of it from mention and your attention because it can fade the moment we become lazily unaware or ungrateful of its blessed state in our lives.
Of all the gifts bestowed by God/Allah (or how you want to word it, as I am a Muslim, this way is the only one allowable for myself) love is the one we have the least choice in, and it cannot long exist by our individual will as human beings alone, but requires the efforts and desire of two souls and sometimes the aid of communities and families. Love is not at all times 50/50. Sometimes it will be 10/90 [like H when he first met me, giving it his all, and me being kind of hard and cruel] and others it will be opposite [70:30] because people go through things in life. But be aware of what the person you love can take. Love that can last forever, CANNOT take forever, forever.

MashaAllah: two things that might make people jealous but that I am going to brag about

1.) My husband is currently cooking me lunch. Yes, I married an Omani male that COOKS. And is good at it. And doesn't think cleaning my flat and cooking me lunch is anyway demasculating. Alhamdulilah. Who knows how long this will last, when he realizes I am alot more selfish and not a great cook but... for now I shall brag. From my shebab, I know that I lucked out.2.) Tomorrow I am getting paid to do something that I love. Once, I got paid to shop for clothes for myself for this job. Isn't that awesome? Tomorrow will be even better because I get paid to learn more about Oman and things people are doing to aid in making this country that I love even better. Alhamdulilah.

Conversation Between H2B & OPNO

H2B: "With anyone from my tribe you can't..... bla blah blah blah."

OPNO: "Mmmmmhmmm? [Skeptical eyebrows raised]. Boqh." [Arabic equivelant of ''blah blah blah' meant to denote a lack of caring for what the person you are speaking with has said].

H2B: [exasperated] "I don't really care but you will if you become the only thing all your neighbors are concerned about. I won't hand you tissue when you are balling your eyes out if you bring it on yourself."

OPNO: "You wouldn't love me if I thought it is was right to act the way you want me to act."

H2B: "I didn't say you were wrong or that I don't agree with you, but women don't wear colour, they dont wear make-up, they don't move too quickly, or talk when men can hear them in my tribe and that's just how it is. I don't want you to get hurt so we can live wherever you like but if you want to live with my family... [He bites his lip, and looks like he is thinking really, really hard].

OPNO [to herself, silently]: 'He doesn't think I can do this!' [to H2B] "As long as I complain as much as I like I will act however they like, WHILE LIVING THERE. You want me to change the system anyways."

H2B: "When you have enough respect from them to do so, yes."

OPNO: [narrows her eyes at H2B] "Will that be, like, when I'm eighty, and I am waddling around, and everyone younger has to listen to me out of respect not because they care to hear me at all?"

H2B: [Laughs at an unconvinced OPNO] "InshaAllah not that long. Like when you are thirty."

OPNO: "Thirty is AWFULLY old." [I am grouchy and stressed and have not the will for witt.]

H2B: [glares at OPNO, I guess you readers can guess his age]

OPNO: [using the usual Omani way of trying to un-dig the hole one has dug one's self into] "...for a woman." [OPNO does not really believe this, she is just a brat].

[On a side-note]

OPNO: "I have changed my mind. I am going to dress in the traditional dress of my city." [To be brat for a little while longer].

[H2B knows it is similiar to the above dress pictured]. [H2B grows very excited].

H2B: "That would be-! I would wear my traditional dress [think Lawrence of Arabia robe, but black, with silver sword and dagger, and camel stick] and you would wear yours. I love it."

OPNO: [not what she had been expecting] "So we look like the old 1930s movies, like that Rudolph Valentino one where the Arab dude and the British chick want/hate eachother until the point they make out in the sand with camels as a backdrop? [skeptical] Or Rachel Weisz from the Mummy movies, or Candice Bergan with Sean Connery playing a very Scottish Berber?"

H2B: "You kind of look like the girl from the Mummy movies."

OPNO: [glares]

H2b: [being a brat] "I can find us some camels in Barka if you want to take pictures!"

OPNO: "."
To all loyal readers who give a damn, please vote on the poll on the sidebar. And the "sheikh" was a very inaccurately costumed Orientalist extravaganza silent movie, as pictured below:

And I do not resemble Rachel Weisz in the slightest regard!!!!!!!!! Or do I ;D

omigosh, life is soooooo going to change...

I just read Sweetness of Salalah's post on codependents. I am one of those. Actually, I was one. I think, I have recovered. I can accept compliments, I know that I deserve a good life and happiness, and I have stopped seeing that I need to endure people that drag me through hell because pain/love are not interwoven unless of course, we are talking blood. Like family. Which you can't choose. But you can choose to have alternates as back-up for those times your family fail you. I am also expecting less of others, and making deicions without freaking. It is amazing. The old me is sometimes a stranger.

This weekend my life is REALLY going to change. I am cutting all ties with the past that are "not good views" and not puting up with people that make no effort to be in my life (except of course, my family). I also gaining a whole new family, complete with kids, and a tribe. Yes, a TRIBE. I may not fit 100% anywhere, but home is where the heart is, and my heart is here in Oman. If you are not happy where you are, life is too short. Go to the place where you think you have a better chance at happiness. Most people, when you ask them what they want to do most in this life, they've never done it. And that is sad. Ask yourself what you want to do. And then go and do it. I decided that I hated my old life. I couldn't stand it. My bones were numb with cold, my mind couldn't feel anymore, and I was a robot, living someone else's life, not mine, not what I'd envisioned mine to be, doing nothing that I wanted to do. So I did something. I bought a plane ticket, I bought a ticket, and I put everything that was worth keeping from my old life into a suitcase and a carry-on, and I began. From nothing. I struggled, I subsisted on lemons and dates plucked off of trees in my new 'hood while I waited for the stall in the pay cycle between two jobs, but I did it, and while not without help and the grace of God, Allah SWT, but on my own.

I made mistakes along the way too numerous to try and right. To those who love me and want to carry on knowing me anyways, you are my life's light, my heroes. Regret is not something I can do anymore. I will just try to do three goodnew things for every twinge of regret I feel, and maybe that will make the world a brighter place.

To the idiot who loves me, you are either crazy or a moron but, well, that makes me brave enough to try and deserve you. About love: No one ever deserves another's love when they truly love someone. All that they do to make that other person happy doesn't equal some sense of entitlement. But what a person does deserve, is to be able to love themself. If you don't love yourself then you will NEVER deserve someone else's love.

Fall in love with your life.