Rant: Omani Perfume

Once I was walking down the beach in Shatti. I could litterally smell one woman from a MILE AWAY down the beach. Abaya (check). Niqab (check). Good hijab/Muslim modesty? Not really. She was like Cleopatra with her scented barges. Every man on that beach would remember what she smelt like as if they had intamitely kissed her neck or smelt her hair. That's kinda a personal thing, and is lovely between a man and wife. Why would you wanna sacrifice those small little beauties I wonder?

Ah, well, guess I am an old fashioned-prude, yes Mama.

But, from an Islamic standpoint:

Muslim women aren't supposed to wear any perfume that a man who is not related to one can smell. Alot of Omani women don't seem to know or care about this. I don't know why it bothers me so much but it kinda does. The Prophet sallalahu alhi wa salaam told us to take care in this, as women. Allahu alim.

Wasta

I have a love/hate relationship with wasta (influence).

I totally love when wasta gets me a great job (that I could get anyway-I never take something I am not qualified for) without having an interview. I love that wasta gets me to pay lower prices than most of my friends for applications and other goodies. And when it gets me a great rate on a villa. Or to the front of a line. But honestly, I feel guilty if I get something I don't deserve and can't enjoy it that much. I only like wasta because maybe I am a little lazy. And my friends of not very much influence, love when they can show off whatever little wasta they have to help me. I love that is makes them feel good about themselves. I feel bad for everyone that doesn't have wasta though, and that makes me not want to use it. It is supporting a corrupt system.

But the system really cripples us in the end. Because when something really needs to get done, you have to wait and wait, and ask for favors, and if you don't know anyone, really, you are screwed.

So shall I be able to wait in line, pass the same papers as everyone else, instead of resisting to make that one phone call to speed things up? If we ALL did, it would fix things, sure...

We all know we should. But my hate relationship with wasta is, even if you are trying to be good, sometimes things just don't get done without wasta. I need to get things done. For myself, and my friends, and the people I care about.

What is your relationship with wasta????

More Cute Omani Kids in National Dress

Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh, so cute mashaAllah tabarakallah!

Rants: Girls Getting Ready in Oman

M & K are on their way? Khalas, ten minutes, I'm done. The boys don't believe it. showered even.

But... who is coming? OmaniH! (Omani H is a female of pure Omani descent LOL).

Ooooooooooooooooooooh. DEAR. GOD.

Sitting fully dressed, make-up, clothes, abaya, sheila, et all, I wait. One hour passes. I have already worked out the timing to be an hour delayed as OmaniK himself takes an hour to dress and cologne himself. But H!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!

M and me put our heads in our hands in despair. H can take two hours to get dressed and promise us five minutes. This is for running to Lulus, not a Dhofari wedding, ya'll, just Lulus, or Carrefoure.

Sigh. We look idenitcally polished when she arrives. I wonder what she does all that time, I really do.

Why is one of my nicknames 'Princess'?

I will never forget one of the first villages in Oman I ever visited, somewhere in the middle of nowhere to me, a young girl back from her first trip to London. I was climbing the top of a crumbling old village house, pieces of date palm frond crumbling under my 2 inch heels. Why I was wearing heels for hiking, who knows, I was a dumb adolescent who was upset that she was stuck in Oman instead of staying San Francisco with friends, or left to her own whims in London.

I was pouty, I was a brat, and I was listening to my headphones, ignoring my stepfather the whole drive there as he pointed out this rock or that rock and explaining its importance to the geographical history of Oman. I got out of the 4x4 wearing a wide brimmed straw hat, white Oscar de la Renta suit jacket, and a brown printed silk skirt. I looked very European, while my newly inherited-by-marriage family looked very American, sneakers, tshirts, and shorts. I was SUPPOSED TO BE in AFRICA already, but they had deemed the country I was too visit too dangerous so they'd confiscated my passport. I wasn't going anywhere. PDO club was my new prison, and it was break, and all the kids my age were away but the Omani security guards that cruised up and down Ras al Hamra on their patrols. They, and one wadi dog, were my only friends. And my stepfather was pretty sure he didn't want me making too good of friends with any young Omani teenage guys, lol, though my mother couldn't understand that LOL, not even the PDO ones, for reasons I was too naivette & willfully rebellious then to understand. I was totally miserable, LOL. And I wanted to sneak off to the nightclubs and dance but I assumed boring Muscat had none, and my stepfather was too smart to tell me anything different. K, lol, you should have told me!!!!!;p I got out of the truck and kicked up some dust with my heels, wandering away from my stepfather on my own up a track to some abandoned houses with my camera. I wandered inside, the dust and the sunlight through half-caved in windows making a wonderful shot. That camera became my escape, and I focussed on my environment rather than my own life, that seemed so bleak and, for a teenager, the end of the world nowhere. No offense to Muscat, but to a sixteen year old, you aren't nearly as hip as London, or as sophisticated as San Francisco. I was in another world than the one I was used to.

Standing on a hill overlooking the village below, a group of Omani children and a few young women came running up the dusty track towards me. I put my camera away, confused for an instant.

Little boys and girls ran up along side me and the women talked behind their hands while smiling shyly at me. One Lady asked if she could touch my hat. I took it off to hand it to her and all the little kids started framing their hands together and pretending they were taking pictures. One little girl sat on my lap and she called me "Princess Diana". It was my short-blonde hair cut.
Little did I know Princess Diana had visited this village all those years before!

After that, pretty much through out most of Oman, that nickname kept coming up, and one Saudi diplomat remarked the likeness quite the sameI thought it quite a compliment that people thought so, though really, I looked more like a gawky Julie Andrews in the 'Sound of Music' than Princess Diana with that haircut. Gulf Arabs tend to be very liberal with complimenting a Western woman's beauty LOL.
Nowadays, far away from the days having to borrow evening clothes from my mother's closet [she was one of those people who liked to dress her grown children and sometimes we'd give in because the fights were too attrociously painful to do anything less (and honestly, I didn't care what I looked like in Oman cuz no one who knew me was here)] to go to the Intercon for drinks, and that short dyed blonde haircut, no one ever makes the reference. But Omani friends, such as the PDO guys, still call me Diana, or 'Princess' when they run into me. Or whenever we have to do passport runs, and the old photograph remains.

Princess Susan of Oman

One real-life American princess, is Susan Al Said of Oman. Just posting this for my American readers, lol, and for C. BTW, this article is not mine but is from http://www.hindu.com/mp/2005/06/29/stories/2005062900050100.htm.

Princess Susan Al Said from the Sultanate of Oman weighs every word she utters. And discreetly watches my notepad as I take down notes. "You have to be aware of your responsibilities being a part of the royal family," she smiles.
An American by birth and an Omanese by marriage, the princess makes this identity transformation into royalty, into a culture that we are given to believe is the antithesis of all that is American. And the image that people in most parts of the world carry about the "enclosed world" of Arab women isn't quite the whole picture, says Susan. "There is enough room for women to be educated and empowered in Oman. We even have three women ministers."
Despite being busy with "business and family responsibilities", Susan has constantly tried to help Omanese women find their identity. She runs an art gallery, Bait Muzna Gallery in Muscat, which gives the pride of place to women artistes. "I have done a few paintings myself," says Susan. Of course, it's also important for an Omani woman to be respectably dressed and be modest. "One has to remember that it's a society where traditions are still upheld, which can't change all of a sudden." Not that things such as dress code are thrust on women. "But women choose to dress modestly," says Susan. "You in India also have such an elegant, traditional dress, don't you?"

The fact that Susan was a well-travelled person helped in the process of acclimatisation into Oman, a country in which she has lived for 21 years now. "The more you travel and broaden your horizon, the easier it is to step out of your preconceived notions of what other countries and cultures are like."But what really matters at the end of the day is "openness of heart, a sharing spirit. It doesn't matter if you are a princess or an ordinary person," smiles Susan, her dragonfly brooch studded with precious stones firmly in place over her black headscarf.

BAGESHREE S.

Styles for Expats, and before I was Muslim... my closet

Before I became a Muslim, I held two women as style rolemodels, one I imitated in my daily life, and the other, I fantasized about dressing like. I knew one woman was a Queen, but the other, I didn't know she was a real-life Princess, I just saw her in a magazine when I was seven years old, and thought, she looks like something out of a fairy-tale. These two women are Queen Rania of Jordan, and Princess Lalla Salma of Morocco.Queen Rania's style is pretty close to my before Islam look. Lots of knee length skirts and blouses with lady-like purses and suits for day, and long simple sleeveless dresses for evenings. Her lilac and lace Givenchy skirt with white blouse is always my favourite look for Queen Rania, and that is how I like to dress in my house, if not imitating Lalla or going Omani;pPrincess Lalla Salma of Morocco looks like a princess straight from a fairytale in her traditional takchita gowns, long wavy red hair, and jewels. Now that I wear an abaya or other modest clothing when I am out, I can pretty much go zany with wacky designer gear or glam caftans when I am in my home. Abaya gives me more fashion freedom believe it or not. I can dress like Rania or Salma and not be over or under dressed thanks to abaya. Now I tend to buy only clothes that I like, rather than clothes that I need, every woman's secret fantasy you would think????

And of course! LOL, these two ladies whose closets I admire just have to hang out LOL.Please, to all non-Muslim expat women in Oman, take a note from Queen Rania in respect to Oman and our beautiful culture of modesty here. In the very least wear skirts no shorter than below the knee, no cleavage, and having a sleeve, be it only cap-sleeve, is best for day. Avoid ultra-tight stretchy fabrics that cling to all your curves. Out of respect for the women as well as the men. I honestly don't want to see your breasts or your thong. At night, it is okay to go sleeveless if you avoid huge cleavage and go for long lengths. Save bikinis for expat dominated places (pools with lotsa alcohol ect). Thank you ever so much, and I will respect your country the same by trying my best to wear Islamic clothing that meets the requirements of my religion but doesn't scare your local populace. Shukran jazilan!!!!