Changing Eid Traditions

Published August 13, 2013 - Muscat Daily

As I flew across three continents on the last day of Ramadan for a much needed month-long holiday with my family, I couldn’t help but feel a slight pang of guilt at not being home in Salalah for Eid al Fitr. It is probably safe to assume that many Omanis feel the same way. More and more families I know of are going away for Eid or simply refusing to partake in endless week-long Eid activities.

 

Eid traditions are very strong in Muslim communities around the world, and Dhofar is no exception. Growing up, the last few days of Ramadan always involved a frenzy of activity in preparation for Eid. My mother and I would bake hundreds of cookies and sweets, stock up on the best Halwa, prepare the house for hundreds of guests, and make a list of all the relatives that we would have to visit.

 

During my childhood, the night of the moon-sighting at the end of Ramadan was a big deal. We would gather around the television after iftar and wait for the Omani moon-sighting committee to tell us whether Eid was the next day or not. If Eid was declared, the announcement would be followed by several hours of intense activity and majlis-preparation. If the moon wasn’t sighted, we would breathe a sigh of relief and look forward to an extra day of fasting and more time to prepare.

 

On the morning of Eid the men of the family would head off to the mosque after dawn for Eid prayers while the females frantically prepared the majlis for the first envoy of guests who were bound to start showing up at eight o’clock in the morning. Traditional Eid songs would be playing on the radio or on television. As a child, Eid meant gifts, new clothes, sweets, and small change that is handed out to children in the form of brand new 100bz notes.

 

The first three days of Eid involved non-stop visiting with relatives and friends. The days that followed were usually a bit easier. Nevertheless, the visiting and catching up with relatives did go on for at least a week. In other words, Eid was a big deal

 

Then came the Internet and cellphones and life in Oman began to change more and more rapidly. Keeping up with Eid traditions and hundreds of relatives became overwhelming and no longer feasible. The number of guests has dwindled as people have become busy with their own lives.

 

For an introvert like me, I still love to spend the days before Eid baking for guests but having to be on guest-duty for at least three days just doesn’t entice me anymore. Furthermore, Eid al Adha is only two months away. I’m ready to make an effort with Eid traditions, but at the moment I think one Eid a year is enough for me. As selfish as it may seem, I’d much rather use my time off to travel and relax. Staying at home without partaking in Eid activities is just not an option in Oman at the moment.

 

Thinking of all the Eid traditions and special memories that helped to shape my childhood in Salalah can make me feel slightly nostalgic but not for long. I’ve accepted the fact that life changes and so do traditions. So, from the back patio of my holiday hideaway I tip my mug of coffee to you and hope you enjoyed your holidays. Back to my pile of vacation reading!

The ROHM Incident

This was not published in the newspaper. A personal blog post:

Why yes, I'm referring to the Royal Opera House Muscat fiasco that erupted last week in Oman. Unless you've been living under a rock (or in Salalah!), you're well aware of the fact that a couple of weeks ago during an American jazz performance one of the Muslim band members recited verses from the Holy Qur'an. The ROHM sensibly issued an official apology the next day assuring the public that the person involved in the recital did so only out of love for his religion and had no intention of mocking Islam.

Within hours, details of the incident began circulating online. The matter was even escalated to Oman's Grand Mufti, the highest religious authority in the country for his opinion. Horror turned to outrage very quickly and soon enough busloads of the devout from various parts of Oman arrived at the ROHM to peacefully protest while clutching copies of the Qur'an. On the second evening of protests this past Friday the riot police were sent in to cordon off the area and disperse the crowd.

After the protesters refused to leave, arguments with security forces soon escalated to violence. The photos that have been circulating online this week show pious Omanis with blood trickling down their faces clutching their Qur'ans. Other photos show them being loaded into buses on their way to an undisclosed detention centre. Not a pretty sight.

If you are new to the Muslim world, you're probably baffled and wondering why this was an issue in the first place. You might even be thinking the whole incident is ridiculous.

Let me enlighten you. Many parts of Oman are still very conservative and we take our religion seriously. Reciting verses from the Quran during a musical performance is an offence to many who feel it violates the sanctity of our holy book. Because all residents in Oman fully respect this, such incidents are extremely rare. Therefore, when an incident does occur we are unable to deal with it. It is outside our comfort zone. To be honest, even I would have felt extremely uncomfortable had I been in the audience at the time.

As a Muslim woman born and raised in a conservative family, I fully understand why so many Omanis were furious and felt the need to go out and protest. On the other hand, there are many of us who can also see that the Muslim band member had no intention of offending anyone. In fact, he probably thought we would be delighted. As far as I'm concerned, the whole issue is a complete misunderstanding that should have been forgotten the next day. I am a great fan of the Royal Opera House and don't see for the life of me why they were being blamed for the incident, or why blame is needed at all!

However, a couple of other things have been bothering me. As many of you know, Oman restricts freedom of assembly both in law and in practice. Any public gathering of ten or more people requires government approval. As ridiculous as this law may seem, authorities have taken it very seriously after the Arab Spring protests, hence the dozens of Omanis serving jail time right now for 'illegal gathering'. (PS: this law exists in many countries)

Laws aside, Oman is a Muslim country. From a human rights and religious perspective, those protesters had every right to speak out. They may have broken a controversial law, but they were only expressing what they felt was their love for Islam and did not constitute a threat to this country's security. The photographs of the clashes with the riot police were extremely disturbing and do nothing for Oman's image in the international human rights arena.

There is one other issue that I find a little worrying. Delicately put, Omanis in general don't seem to be getting worked up about the right things. They could have been out on the streets protesting against drugs, rape, female genital mutilation, or even the horrifying reports of sexual and physical abuse of medical interns at local hospitals that were brought to light last week. Are we turning a blind eye to serious issues taking place in our country that are more deserving of our attention and action?

I know it's horrifying to some for a woman to be expressing her opinion so bluntly on such a sensitive issue. Nevertheless, it is only expected for opinions to vary and I am entitled to my opinion. On a final note, I think last week's incident is yet another healthy lesson for Oman that open dialogue and free speech are needed in order to bring issues out into the open and work our way towards a better future. Your thoughts?

Celebrating Eid al Adha

Published October 23, 2012 - Muscat Daily.

It’s rather hard to believe another Eid is knocking at our doors. I haven’t quite recovered yet from Eid al Fitr celebrations nine weeks ago!

For many of you, it may sound like just another Eid, but both occasions are quite different for Muslims worldwide. Eid al Fitr that we observed in August was a celebration following the completion of Ramadan, the holy month of fasting. The last few days of Ramadan witnessed intense worship and prayer rituals followed by a communal sigh of relief as we all re-discovered the privilege of eating and drinking during daytime for the first time in a month!

On the other hand, Eid al Adha that we will be celebrating this Friday is a commemoration of the Prophet Abraham’s willingness to sacrifice his eldest son to God. It also marks the end of the Haj, the annual pilgrimage to Mecca that Muslims must complete once in their lifetime. It is not uncommon for Muslims to go two or three times, hence the millions of pilgrims each year.

Last week Dhofar bid farewell to this year’s many pilgrims as they embarked on their journey to Mecca to complete the Haj rituals. Going on the pilgrimage is a big deal and the farewells are often filled with emotion. I was approached by several acquaintances of mine who went off to Mecca asking me for forgiveness if they had ever done me wrong. They wanted to go off to the holy city feeling relieved and unburdened. I haven’t been to Mecca yet but I am very much looking forward to my pilgrimage when the time is right.

On Thursday every household in Salalah will turn on the television early in the morning to watch live coverage of the pilgrims as they observe the final day of Haj, otherwise known as Yom Arafa.

At dawn, the pilgrims will head to Mount Arafa, the site where the Prophet Muhammad (PBUH) gave his farewell sermon. Families will gather around the television to try and spot their loved ones among the millions of pilgrims dressed in white. It is a rather extraordinary sight and I recommend that you tune into any Arab television channel on Thursday to watch part of it.

The first day of Eid on Friday morning will involve a lot of animal slaughtering (ie our sacrifice), plenty of meat, excited children, and then endless visiting of relatives and neighbours.

During the weeks leading up to Eid the main topics of conversation in this town are often limited to the following questions; ‘Anyone from your family on the pilgrimage this year? What are you slaughtering? When do you think the holidays will be?’ Naturally, the third question is always the hardest to answer. The powers that be in this little nation of ours aren’t always generous with holiday information. We are often informed of the public holiday a mere four or five days before Eid. It’s rather unfair to people who have travel plans.

Speaking of travels, I have noticed an interesting trend in Salalah these past couple of years. Many families have taken to escaping during Eid to avoid the hassle of having to slaughter and then visit a hundred relatives. This is rather surprising for such a family and tribal-oriented region, but in many ways I don’t blame them. I personally find that two back-to-back Eids can be a little overwhelming.

While the whole population of Salalah heads out into town today to create traffic jams (a favourite pastime) and stock up on last-minute Eid goods, I will be quietly packing my bright red suitcases in preparation for my own Eid escape. Even though I’m not fond of visiting and the thought of large quantities of meat make me feel rather ill, this trip isn’t about escaping. It is more of a social experiment involving a group of rebellious Dhofari girls eager to see the world. Stay tuned….

The Final Week

Published in Muscat Daily on August 14th, 2012. Click here to view the column on their website.

As I write these words, I am sitting on my back steps here in Salalah in my traditional thobe budhail with two cats curled up on either side of me for warmth. We are quietly enjoying the monsoon drizzle and listening to the gentle rustle of the leaves on the fig, henna and frankincense trees. This is beginning to sound like a poem, isn't it? Forgive me, I've been fasting for almost 12 hours and have another three to go. We do tend to get a little delirious towards the end of the day in Ramadan!

To be honest, I find it hard to believe the holy month of Ramadan is coming to an end. Despite the long hours of fasting, time flew. As we wait for the new moon to mark the end of fasting and the beginning of Eid, I find myself thinking about my favourite and not-so-favourite aspects of Ramadan in the 21st century.

I will definitely miss the atmosphere in Salalah during Ramadan. When an entire region is fasting together, it feels like a month-long celebration instead of a hassle. To be honest, I have no idea how Muslims in non-Muslim societies cope.

Thanks to shorter working hours and fewer commitments, I will miss the extra time for reflection and reading. I will miss the thousands of people rushing to make it to the mosque for every prayer and how everyone makes an extra effort to be calm and generous.

I will miss seeing plates of food being carried through the neighbourhood during the hour before sunset on their way to the mosque to feed fasting labourers. I'll miss all the excited children who are fasting for the first time. I will miss peeking out of my window at 4am and seeing all the neighbours' lights come on slowly one by one as they prepare for dawn. The list is long.

On the other hand, I will definitely not miss the Ramadan work ethic among Omani employees. I'm not exaggerating when I say next to nothing gets done in Ramadan. Muslims only work six hours during Ramadan, but most of them might as well not come to work at all. Somehow fasting and productivity don't go well together for many people.

The obsession with food and the long line-ups at supermarkets at all hours of the day and night will not be missed either. Most families spend up to four or five hours in the kitchen each afternoon preparing to break the fast and end up making up to ten different deep-fried dishes, most of which go to waste. This completely contradicts the purpose of fasting in my opinion, but to each his own, I suppose. In my home, my mother and I have dinner down to a 54-minute art. In the hour before sunset, we manage to produce a starter, a healthy main course and occasionally a dessert.

Believe it or not, our meals don't even involve the basic Omani Ramadan staples - oil, samosa wraps, puff pastry, crème caramel and Vimto. Sleeping well at night and fitting in a healthy breakfast before sunrise means I have energy during most of the day, for which I am grateful.

One aspect of Ramadan that drives me crazy is the increasing commercialism. I find I am able to shut myself off most of the time because I never really go into town during Ramadan. Furthermore (brace yourselves), my house is probably the only remaining house in the sultanate without cable television.

I can just about handle the very short episode of the Omani Ramadan cartoon Yom wa Yom in the evenings on Oman TV because I find it hilarious. However, the empty and mindless commercials that come on every five minutes during the episode remind me why I choose never to watch television. Life's too short.

I will not miss all the daily phone messages from car dealerships trying to brainwash me into believing I need a brand new RO25,000 car because I'm delirious, hungry and looking for distractions that don't involve food. What is it with car deals during Ramadan anyway?

I’m sad to see the holy month end because it’s a special time of year; a time of reflection, discipline and spirituality. However, I am also guilty of looking forward to going back to my normal work and study schedule. Trust me, trying to do post-graduate work while fasting is like pulling a tooth. Come next week, I'll be reunited with my sacred morning mug of coffee and I might just be able to catch up on all my studying...Insha Allah!

My Take on Polygamy

Published January 17, 2012 - Muscat Daily ... click here to view article

I come from a polygamist family. My father currently has three wives and fifteen children. Do you find that incredibly weird? I must confess, occasionally I do too. Most of the time, however, I never really stop to think about it.

A few months ago, I was on a training programme with young citizen journalists from different parts of the world. On our first day I spent my lunch break with a Muslim girl from Europe. Halfway through our meal, she asked the inevitable question, “How many siblings do you have?”

After I answered her, she was silent for a few moments, and then whispered, “I've never met anyone from a polygamist family before.” She spent the remainder of the programme questioning me about what it was like. To be honest, she made me feel like I'd just landed from outer space. I've been thinking about it ever since. Is it really that unusual?

Polygamy has been practised in different cultures around the world throughout history and is still legal in most Muslim countries, with the exception of Tunisia and Turkey. Even though it is legal, I know it’s not widely practised outside the GCC.

In Oman, polygamy may have died out in most areas up north, but the tradition is alive and well here in Dhofar. I assume the reasons behind this are somewhat related to the stronger tribal ties at this end of the country.

Why do men in Dhofar choose to take on another wife? Islam allows up to four wives under certain circumstances and conditions.

Despite this, I believe very few men in Dhofar these days remarry for religious reasons. I hate to sound negative, but most polygamists I know (the number isn't small) remarried for entirely selfish reasons.

In many cases men take on a second or third wife to show off their wealth or to produce more sons who will carry on the family name. Some men who are unhappy with their first wives but can't divorce them due to family pressure choose to remarry. A large number of polygamists marry women half their age to help the men feel 'young' again. That seems to be the most common reason.

There are also a small percentage of men who take on a second wife for semi-acceptable reasons. For example, a former neighbour of ours took on his deceased brother's wife as a second spouse in order to take care of her and keep the kids in the family. I can't say it made sense to me, but it seemed to work for them.

Some men whose wives are infertile will marry other women to bear children while keeping their first wives. Divorced or widowed women also tend to end up being second or third wives since most single men here wouldn't consider them for marriage. Most polygamists take on a second wife after they hit 40 or 50 and realise they're not getting any younger. Having two wives isn’t uncommon in Dhofar. Three or four is rare.

The big question is, does polygamy really work? In my opinion the answer is a big no. A few years ago I was involved in a research project here in Dhofar on polygamy. After hundreds of interviews and months of work, it became obvious that women are victims when it comes to polygamy.

None of the women we interviewed were happy in their marriages. On the other hand, the men seemed to be fine and most had remarried for entirely selfish reasons. It was truly heartbreaking.

Polygamy may have worked for many centuries and it probably made sense in many cases. However, in this day and age I think it causes more heartache than happiness and I'm confident that no man is able to love and care for two women equally, let alone four! Furthermore, no woman in her right mind wants to share her husband with another woman. Men may fantasise about being the perfect husband who loves and treats his wives equally, but who are they kidding?

People may argue that I'm generalising and that they know a happy polygamist family. But are they really happy? When two wives live under the same roof, they are under enormous pressure to appear to live harmoniously, regardless of their feelings. I'm sure there are a handful of really decent polygamists out there who treat their wives equally and who manage happy homes, but I have yet to meet one!

Naturally, the law in Oman doesn’t protect women when it comes to polygamy. A man can remarry without even informing his first wife. That doesn't speak well for women's rights in Oman, but I'll save that rant for another week.

Many non-Arabs may wonder why the first wife simply doesn't ask for a divorce if her husband comes home with a young wife. If only it were that simple! Most women above the age of 40 are not educated. They have no means of supporting themselves and probably have at least five children. Where do they go? Do they head back to their father's house if he's still alive? Camp out in their siblings' spare bedroom forever? They have no choice but to stay with their husbands and endure the pain.

If you think polygamy will die out with the current generation of middle-aged men, think twice. I can think of three men I know under the age of 40 who have two wives. I also know two young women around my age who became second and fourth wives respectively in the past 12 months.

In fact, just a few months ago, a married man asked for my hand in marriage. I wasn't planning on sharing that piece of information with the world, but seriously…how could I not? Someone in this day and age assumed a young independent woman like me would be okay with being a second wife! Fortunately, I'm not. As much as I love my family and all my stepmothers and step-siblings, I am against the practice.

On a final note, a couple of years ago I read an article that suggested polygamy contributes to lower divorce rates in Oman. Whoever assumed that probably hadn’t had their morning cup of coffee. Polygamy will die out sooner or later. Until then, please say a prayer for all the women who've suffered through this bizarre tradition. And if you have a positive polygamy story to tell, do share....

Ramadhan Kareem!

Published August 2, 2011 - Muscat Daily

On Sunday night, many Omanis settled down in front of Oman TV and waited for the moon-sighting committee’s verdict on whether Monday would mark the first day of the holy month of fasting or not. A little after 8pm, Ramadan was announced and thousands of congratulatory text messages flew back and forth between family members, colleagues and friends.

While astronomers can accurately confirm when the new crescent moon will be visible, Muslims prefer to be guided by a committee of Muslim scholars. The committee predicts when and where the crescent will be sighted, but the holy month of Ramadan only begins once the new moon has been spotted by the naked eye.

In time for Ramadan, the annual Salalah Tourism Festival ended a few days ago with a bang, and the last of the lavish local weddings took place on Thursday. Monsoon rains continue to fall as temperatures hover between 24 and 27°C.

Population-wise, it looks like many of the tourists aren’t going anywhere during Ramadan. According to an article I read recently, thousands of tourists from the GCC have booked their hotels and apartments in Salalah for Ramadan.

I suppose it makes a lot of sense to fast here this year. The days are shorter and unlike the rest of the GCC, the weather in Salalah is beautiful at this time of year.

Meanwhile on the local front, the classic mountains of Ramadan food are on display at all the major supermarkets to accommodate the needs of families who tend to eat exactly the same things year after year. Women spend hours in the kitchen everyday preparing an endless array of dishes to break the fast at sunset, most of which will be tossed out at the end of the night. Believe it or not, many people end up gaining weight during Ramadan, even though they fast for nearly 14 hours every day.

Ramadan is supposed to be a month of religious reflection, self-restraint and charity. However, for many Omanis, the holy month of fasting has become a month of sleeping all day, watching television and eating all night to avoid feeling any discomfort while fasting.

Many smokers I know take annual leave during Ramadan and sleep all day as well, to avoid the effects of nicotine withdrawal. Again, this totally contradicts the true spirit of the month. Sure, we pray, read the Q'uran and go to Taraweeh prayers at the mosque every night, but that doesn’t make up for all the unhealthy habits we maintain and all the time and food we waste.

I visited the Oman Charitable Organisation (OCO) donation camp in Salalah with my sister a couple of nights ago. As most of you know, the UN officially declared a famine in two regions of southern Somalia a little under two weeks ago. This is the first time a famine has been declared by the UN in nearly 30 years.

Tens of thousands of people have died in the past few weeks, and humanitarian response to the crisis has been delayed by severe lack of funding. Of the nearly US$2bn that has been requested by humanitarian organisations, barely US$1bn has been committed.

The aim of the OCO campaign is to help in any way they can by providing food and funding for victims of the famine. The camp set up next to Aqeel Mosque in eastern Salalah – will remain open throughout the month of Ramadan.

They accept dry goods such as rice, noodles and milk powder for babies. Blankets, sheets and clothes that are in good condition are also accepted.

Instead of wasting time and food during Ramadan, get in touch with the organisation’s headquarters in Muscat or their camp in Salalah and see how you can help. Getting involved with something like that would truly bring out the spirit of Ramadan, don’t you think? Ramadan Kareem!

NOTE: Donations for Somalia will be accepted at the tent next to Aqeel Mosque in Eastern Salalah (off Al Montazah Road) throughout the month of Ramadan. For more information call: 

Ahmed 99492845

Mohammed 99492966

Abdullah 99696333
Said 99493100
Musallam 92334207
Mohammed 97187778

Ali 99283030

Venturing Into The Unknown

                                                   (photo taken at Darhariz BeachFebruary 2011)

Published July 19, 2011 - Muscat Daily

On July 15, I lined up with hundreds of loyal Harry Potter fans outside a movie theatre complex in a faraway land waiting to watch the final Harry Potter movie on the day of its release.

I admit I have a soft spot for the best-selling book series, which brought joy and magic to millions and instilled a love of reading in children worldwide. For 14 years we read, we watched, we wondered and we waited for more.

As I stood in line, a young woman in a headscarf standing behind me asked where I was from. After hearing that I was from Salalah, she said she was Kuwaiti and that many of her friends had been to Salalah during the Khareef, but her family refused to go because Oman was famous for witchcraft and black magic.
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It took me a few moments to fully comprehend what she had said before I could respond. Judging by the distance between our spot in line and the entrance to the theatre, I had about three minutes to clear my country's name.
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First of all, Oman is not 'famous' for witchcraft. Yes, some Omanis from Bahla and Dhofar especially have been known to dwell in the dark arts, but in no way do they represent the rest of us. Many ignorant people out there tend to lump all our old healing traditions and superstitions under one label: Magic.
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Can a woman who collects herbs and plants from the mountains of Dhofar to create traditional medicine be called a witch? No. The same applies to local healers who perform branding on sick people and bloodletting on local divers before abalone season. These ancient practices can be categorised as traditional medicine and are in no way linked to magic.
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Moving on to local superstitions, I recently watched an interesting video on YouTube. The person filming was obviously hiding, and despite the low quality of the video, it was clear that an old woman was standing on Al Haffa Beach in Salalah chanting to the crashing waves of the ocean while her 'helper' was down on his knees in the water slaughtering a goat.
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I did not find the video surprising at all. For thousands of years, people have been making sacrifices to the sea when it gets rough. In Salalah, many people continue to make such sacrifices when the monsoon starts in order to protect the town and our fishermen.
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It's pure superstition, not black magic. It's also a dying tradition, performed only by members of the older generation who are afraid of what will happen if they stop.
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Superstitious people from the mountains of Dhofar also make sacrifices to water springs when they dry up in hopes of hearing the sound of gushing water again.
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Many Omani families burn frankincense at sunrise and sunset in order to ward off evil spirits, black eyeliner is often applied to new-borns to protect them from the evil eye, and naturally, black cats are believed to be associated with demons. Oman is full of superstitions – that's for sure – even though there is no place for superstitions in Islam.
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As for witchcraft, people tell me there are witches in Salalah who can put spells on people and perform hexes, but I have yet to meet one. I'm told they lie low and avoid mingling with the public because everyone knows playing around with magic is forbidden in Islam.
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Several years ago when I was taking driving lessons, my instructor forbade me from driving into a small neighbourhood nicknamed Salt Alley on the outskirts of Salalah because he claimed witches and bad spirits lived there. The reason it's called Salt Alley is that families throw salt in front of their doors to protect their homes from witchcraft.
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The valley of Khor Ruri east of Salalah is known to locals as the valley of the witches, and I'd say 99 per cent of the people I know won't go anywhere near there. Again, that could be pure superstition.
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I know of several people who travel to Bahla and Kenya in order to find experts who can break spells performed by local witches or sorcerers, but I've never actually followed up with anyone to see if it actually worked.
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Quite often in Salalah, you hear of stories involving little bundles of animals' bones and verses written backwards found under newlyweds' beds, or the occasional unwound cassette tape surrounding someone's house, but such cases are rare.
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Hexes may be true, but in many cases people can't distinguish between conditions like epilepsy and a curse. I knew a girl in school who was epileptic, and her parents took her to India in order to have an exorcism performed when all she needed was proper medical attention!
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The aim of this week's column was not to judge or come to any conclusions on this subject, because there are no conclusions. I just felt the need to gently clarify some of our local traditions.
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Personally, I think if you truly believe in the power of elements such as black magic, then you open yourself up to things that are best kept at bay. Stay away and you should be fine!

Female Genital Mutilation (FGM) in Dhofar: The Woman with the Frankincense Burner

Published  June 7, 2011 - Muscat Daily

A few days ago I was at Sultan Qaboos Hospital in Salalah visiting a friend who had just given birth to a beautiful baby girl.

There were several other women there when I arrived, and we all took turns holding the baby and marveling (naturally) at how perfect she was. When the baby was in my arms, I heard someone whispering ‘Come on, Susan. We have to leave’.

I looked up and saw an odd-looking older woman standing at the foot of the bed with what looked like a toiletries bag and a large frankincense burner. I must have had a confused look on my face because the woman standing next to me whispered into my ear again, “We have to go. She’s going to do it.”

The mother of the baby looked distressed and helpless but her mother-in-law seemed to be in control of the situation. I was herded out of the ward along with the other women, and only then did I realise the old woman with the frankincense burner had come to circumcise the child.

Shocking, isn’t it? To think that we live in the 21st century and such primitive practices still take place behind closed doors and secretly in hospital corridors. Almost all girls over the age of about 15 in Salalah have been circumcised. I thought the practice had died down over the past decade and was no longer prevalent in Salalah but evidently I am mistaken. I decided to make a few enquiries regarding the woman with the frankincense burner.

According to my sources, she has been at the hospital for as long as they can remember. She roams the maternity wards all day and makes herself available to anyone who wishes to mutilate their newborn daughters’ genitals.

Obviously she does not work for the hospital, and I have no idea how she supports herself because evidently she does it for free. All I know is that people demand her services because they truly believe it’s the right thing to do.

Many women in Salalah and in other parts of the Middle East claim it is obligatory in Islam and they refuse to discuss it any further.

Al Azhar Supreme Council of Islamic Research, the highest religious authority in Egypt, issued a statement saying female genital mutilation (FGM) has no basis in core Islamic law or any of its partial provisions and that it is harmful and should not be practiced.

I have no idea how prevalent the practice is in other parts of Oman and how much brutality is involved, but I know for a fact that it is widely practiced in Dhofar. If they tell you everyone carries it out ‘lightly’ like a small paper-cut, that’s a complete lie.

It may be true for a handful of families, but after speaking with several women I know, they confirmed that traditionally the whole clitoris is removed and the area burned to ensure that all nerves are dead, hence the frankincense burner. There are also several local clinics in Oman that can do it. Is it even legal?

What baffles me is that many men are not aware that this practice still exists in Dhofar. The problem with FGM is that it is performed by and defended by women, and is considered one of Dhofar’s best-kept secrets. In most cases, women do not ask the permission of the father before performing FGM on a newborn. I wonder how our men feel about that.

Education seems to be the only answer and change won’t happen overnight. The first step is to bring it out into the open without fear or shame. This should not be a taboo subject. The Ministry of Health (MoH) should start an awareness campaign explaining the health risks. There should be posters up in the maternity wards at all hospitals.

People still practice FGM because they think it’s healthy and they’re afraid of what will happen to their daughters if they aren’t circumcised. Many believe that by putting their daughters through this they are protecting them. From what, I wonder?

At times like these people need to distinguish between Islam and culture. Because the practice holds much cultural and marital significance, FGM opponents recognise that ending it requires that they work closely with local communities in order to spread awareness of the profound social, sexual and medical consequences of this practice. This tradition is kept alive by the lack of dialogue. This is where MoH should come in.

I could go on about this forever. The practice is considered a violation of the basic rights of women, and since it is mostly carried out on newborn girls, it is also considered a violation of children’s rights. Now, what can you, as an individual, do about this? You can start by spreading the word. Speak to the women in your family and help bring this issue out into the open. Change begins at home! 

Why The Black Abaya?

Published February 8, 2011
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Have you ever wondered why women in Oman and in the GCC wear the black abaya? I certainly have. We started off pretty well. Take a look at photos from Oman in the 1960s and 1970s. Women wore modest, traditional and colorful clothing. I’m not quite sure when the black crept its way into Oman, but many people blame Iran and Saudi. Today, the concept of the black abaya has become so engrained in our society that we can’t imagine our lives without it. Most girls in are told by their families to start wearing it when they turn thirteen or fourteen and are stuck with it for life. Once you start, there’s no going back. 

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I started wearing an abaya in grade eight because all the girls in my class wore it, and I didn’t want to stand out. Now, ten years later I can’t even drive to my sister’s house down the street without putting it on. Why? Because I’m afraid of what will happen if I don’t wear it. I feel as if I’d be committing a crime against society by not wearing it. In fact, I’m pretty sure society here in Salalah would also feel I’m doing something wrong, and someone would surely feel the need to report my scandalous behavior to someone from my tribe!   

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 I asked my male colleagues (regular victims of my random feminist outbursts) why they think women should wear the black abaya.  Most said girls must start wearing the abaya when they reach puberty to protect their 'reputation'. I asked them to explain what they meant by that but they just went around in circles repeating the argument about reputation. A couple of others believe society looks down upon girls who don’t wear it. My favorite answer was from a guy who said men wouldn't be able to concentrate at work if their female colleagues wore colors. Really?! 

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Don’t get me wrong here. I’m not against the abaya at all. In fact, I love wearing it. It’s practical and comfortable and I can wear whatever I want underneath it. Furthermore, it’s extremely fashionable. Black happens to be very elegant especially when studded with jewelry or adorned with silver or gold linings and other designs. The cost of abayas can range from twenty to two or three hundred rials depending on the detailed hand embroidery, designer brand, and crystals. Wearing the abaya is also an easier way to cover up without having to worry about coordinating an entire outfit. On the other hand, it gets dirty easily, gets stuck in the wheels of my office chair at least twice a day, and is a constant tripping hazard. Furthermore, during the summer the abaya becomes your own personal heating pad. Black absorbs heat like a sponge absorbs liquid.

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 So, why do we wear it? Because we’ve gotten used to it and are afraid of what people will say if we don’t? Why the obsession with conformity? Society in Oman has always had a problem with anyone different, more so here in Dhofar where it’s almost taboo to stand out of the crowd, especially for females. As a young woman who practically worships individuality, I find this very hard at times. I'm sure many young women out there share my sentiments. 

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 From a religious point of view, wearing black isn’t strictly required by Islam. Muslim women should wear loose fitting and modest clothing that covers the body. Can that not be achieved with green or purple? I knew a woman here in Salalah who made beautiful colored abayas and tried to market them to the local women a few years ago but most claimed their husbands would never let them. The word ‘let’ is what gets on my nerves. Abayas are beautiful, but every woman should have the right to choose whether she wants to wear it or not.  What concerns me is that girls all over Oman are being forced to wear black from a young age by their families. There is absolutely nothing wrong with a little color. In Muscat, things have changed and it’s not uncommon to see women in color but as for the rest of us, black rules. I don’t predict any changes in the near future in Dhofar because we haven’t even started tackling the issue of the black face veil, let alone the abaya!  Goodness knows how long it’ll be before women here can start choosing what they want to wear. Food for thought…

The Funeral Debate

Published January 25, 2011
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There's no denying the fact that in Dhofar everyone knows everything about everyone else. When something interesting happens, word spreads immediately and it becomes the talk of the town. This can be horrible at times and quite useful at others. By useful, I mean funerals. When someone dies, within an hour every relative, friend and acquaintance is informed and people start flocking to the funeral. Unlike other countries, funerals in Oman happen very quickly. The body of the deceased is washed, wrapped in a shroud immediately, and kissed goodbye by the closest family members. It is then taken by the men of the family to the graveyard where the burial takes place on the same day in the Islamic way followed by special funeral prayers at the mosque performed by all the male mourners. Meanwhile, the females hastily prepare the house for the funeral. Personal belongings are shoved into closets, bedding is rolled up, and the kitchen is stocked with drinks, fruit, and tea. Prayer beads, chapters of the Qur'an and boxes of Kleenex are placed at every corner, and the neighbors and close relatives send their housemaids over to help with the preparation.

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While the men are at the graveyard burying the deceased, a huge tent is being installed outside the house to accommodate them upon their return. Tent companies can set up a huge funeral tent outside your home at a moment's notice. Within an hour or two, hundreds of men will have flocked to the tent to pay their respects. Meanwhile, the house will be bursting at the seams with female mourners. Close relatives spend all day at the funeral whereas distant relatives and acquaintances come to pay their respects and leave within an hour to make room for more mourners. Some women take shifts in the kitchen preparing refreshments and meals while others walk around the house with trays of coffee, tea, and drinks offering them to guests. In the house, the women usually talk quietly, cry, or read the Qur'an and pray. Some of the older women wail like banshees despite the fact that funeral wailing is un-Islamic and quite frightening. For immediate family members, the hours go by in a blur of greetings, condolences, noise, and chaos. This goes on for three long days from early morning to late at night. Everyone is expected to come and pay their respects during those three days and by the end of it all life supposedly goes back to normal.

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I have mixed feelings about the whole funeral system in Oman and particularly in Dhofar, and I'm sure many of you Omanis out there share my sentiments. First of all, funerals are extremely costly. Not only do you have to serve refreshments to hundreds of people but in Dhofar usually several animals are slaughtered to feed the guests at meals. Providing lunch and dinner to that many people is no joke. Who can afford that kind of expense these days?

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Furthermore, after losing a loved one, the thought of facing hundreds of people within a few hours is emotionally and physically draining. Because men and women mourn separately, when can immediate family members comfort one another? Recently I was at a funeral where a couple had lost their child. The mother was receiving guests all day while her husband was outside in the tent doing the same. They did not see each other until midnight when everyone had left. Despite the fact that she remained strong and greeted people with a smile, I could tell all she wanted was to be alone with her husband to mourn the loss of their child. It was written all over her face. In my opinion, I don't think anyone should have to go through that.

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On the other hand, the support provided by the local community is amazing. Having hundreds of people come to let you know you’re not alone in your suffering and knowing they're all praying for you and your loved ones is extremely touching. I also feel that the transitional three day mourning period is a good form of closure for the family. Recently and to the horror of the old fashioned elders in Dhofar, some families have announced they're holding shorter funerals that last only a day or two. Other families have made it clear that no meals will be provided. I don't know how they would implement that rule, but I think it's extremely sensible. How else can we improve the funeral system in Oman? Any ideas?

Eid Al Fitr in Salalah

Published September 21, 2010

To be honest, I find it hard to believe that Ramadhan is over. Once you get into the routine of quiet fasting, the shock of the Eid is quite hard to handle. Despite the fact that we did not eat or drink anything from sunrise to sunset for an entire month, I have to admit that fasting was much easier this year in Dhofar due to the cool weather and monsoon rains. In fact, many people claim it has been the easiest Ramadhan in over three decades!

For most of us, last week was a blur of fasting, cleaning, shopping, baking, and preparing for the Eid. During the few days before the Eid, shops were open until the wee hours of the morning to accommodate the needs of the thousands of last minute frantic shoppers. On Thursday evening, everyone ate their Iftar with eyes glued to Oman TV waiting for the big announcement about whether or not we were fasting one more day, or celebrating the Eid the next morning. An hour after sunset the crescent moon had been sighted, marking the end of the Holy Month of Ramadhan and the beginning of Eid. I'm sad that Ramadhan is over but at the same time happy that I can eat and drink again at regular times! My morning cups of freshly brewed coffee at work were sorely missed!

The morning of Eid al Fitr is always awkward. We have all readjusted our bodily clocks, and have made new habits. Many may find they are wide awake at four thirty in the morning thinking they must get up and eat the pre-dawn meal (also known as Suhoor). After a couple of hours more of sleep, everyone wakes up and heads guiltily to the kitchen to eat their first breakfast in a month. Eating in broad daylight can take some getting used to, that's for sure! As the men head to the mosque for early morning Eid prayers, the women hurriedly prepare the majlis for guests. Each house has a spread of sweets, fruit, drinks, Omani coffee, and halwa, a traditional Omani sweet. By nine o'clock in the morning, children have already started visiting every house in their neighborhood dressed in their new clothes, and soon their pockets are bulging with candy and Eidia (small change given out to children during the Eid). By the end of the morning, they're all on a sugar high (adults included) and head home to rest before their second round of visits in the afternoon.

The next few days are dedicated solely to visiting family and relatives. In Salalah, women usually stay at home and receive children and male relatives on the first day of the Eid and do most of their visiting on the second or third day, or even after that. Over the past 72 hours I'm pretty sure I received and visited at least one hundred relatives. Each conversation blended into the next so I am finding it hard to remember everyone's news. It can be quite overwhelming, and it doesn't help knowing I have yet another four days of visiting to do before heading back to work on Saturday! In Salalah, visiting isn't confined to the first three or four days of the Eid like most of the rest of Oman. It can go on for well over a week. I suppose this might be related to the fact that families in the south of Oman are larger than in other areas of the Sultanate.

The Eid in Salalah feels special this year due to the unusually prolonged monsoon rains, the beautiful green mountains just beginning to appear out of the mist, and the presence of tourists from the GCC and other parts of Oman who have come to Salalah just for the Eid holiday. The presence of His Majesty Sultan Qaboos in Dhofar for Ramadhan and Eid this year made it even more special. Everyone was cheerful just by knowing His Majesty is in town and that he performed Eid al Fitr prayers at Al Hisn Mosque on the ocean.

At the same time, however, the Eid marks the end of the three month 'slump' that Oman gets into with the summer holidays, Ramadhan, and in Salalah's case, the monsoon. On Saturday, Oman can wake up from its very long nap and hopefully begin to get some real work done. Children and college students head back to school, work timings go back to normal and everything becomes a blur of activity again. It's about time! But..... we are already looking forward to next Ramadhan.

Ramadhan & Food

Published August 17, 2010

There are very few things in my life that I consider to be a living nightmare. Among them are 8-hour transits at Dubai airport, running out of cooking gas just before your guests arrive, and inching through traffic on payday. However, at the very top of my nightmare list is going to any supermarket in Salalah the week before Ramadhan.

Before I start my spiel about supermarkets and food, I'd like to highlight the fact that, in addition to focusing on religion, one of the main purposes of fasting is to teach Muslims about patience, humility, and empathy for those who are less fortunate. We are supposed to 'feel' hunger and count our blessings, thus becoming more charitable and willing to give to the poor.
 

Many Omanis on the other hand seem to be doing the complete opposite. Yes, we survive without food or water from sunrise to sunset, but then too much emphasis is placed on the preparation and consumption of the food with which we break the fast. In fact, most of my acquaintances end up gaining weight in Ramadhan despite the fact that they fast for most of the day!
 

I needed to pick up a couple of urgent food items at one of Salalah's major supermarkets a couple of days before Ramadhan started last week. It was just after three o'clock in the afternoon and I thought I'd be able to run in quickly before the Ramadhan shoppers arrived. No such luck! It took me twenty minutes to find a parking space and then I had to fight my way in through a sea of frantic shoppers at the entrance only to find there were no shopping carts or baskets left. The huge Ramadhan displays at the front of the supermarket would baffle any person unfamiliar with our Ramadhan cuisine. All you see are pyramids of tins of Captain Oats, creme caramel mixes, dumpling mixes, and of course the largest collection of Vimto bottles this person has ever seen.

Everywhere I looked, people were crammed together in the impenetrable aisles with their enormous shopping carts overflowing with the exact same items for their predictable Ramadhan menus. I started feeling slightly claustrophobic. By the time I made it to the front of the store with my sad little collection of items and took one look at the cashier lineups, I had had enough. I dumped my items on the nearest mountain of creme caramel and left. I haven't been into a supermarket since and have been avoiding them at all costs.
 

Why the obsession with food, you may wonder? Most families in Dhofar send their women into the kitchen four or five hours before sunset to start preparing for Iftar, the sunset meal. I'm inclined to say that 90% of households in Dhofar serve the exact same dishes every day for the entire month of Ramadan. The basics are sweet dumplings (luqaymat), greasy samoosas, oat soup, thareed (local dry bread soaked in a meat sauce), Arabic coffee, dates, jugs of Vimto, creme caramel, jello, watermelon, and anything deep-fried. All this food is laid out on a long plastic mat across the family living room or majlis and when the call to prayer is heard, everyone dives into the display of fifteen or more dishes. They spend the next hour or so eating non-stop, only taking a few minutes out to pray the sunset prayer. Imagine what mixing samoosas, spicy soup, meat, sweets, coffee, and watermelon every day can do to your stomach.
 

By the time everyone is finished eating, they've only consumed half of what was on display. What happens to the rest of the food? Many people keep leftovers for the sunrise meal, known as suhoor; however, most of it gets thrown out (to the benefit of stray neighborhood cats). It's a complete waste and completely defies the purpose of fasting. I read a report somewhere saying Arabs spend more money on food during Ramadhan than at any other time of the year. If that's true, then there's something very wrong with our understanding of Ramadhan. Perhaps as people in Oman become more health-conscious (and money conscious), these terrible eating habits will slowly be replaced by more sensible Ramadhan menus.

How Was Eid?

Published December 7, 2009 - Muscat Daily
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My alarm clock went off at 6:00 a.m on Saturday morning. I cursed and begged for another day of holiday. Just another day! But no such luck. It just kept on ringing until I was forced to get up and go to work. Don't get me wrong. I love my job, but I really enjoyed Eid and those precious nine days of holiday. I'm figuring you all cursed your alarm clocks too.
 

Basic Eid rituals are similar throughout the Muslim world, but each society also has its own unique traditions to celebrate this religious event. Also known as the 'Festival of the Sacrifice', Eid Al-Adha is a holiday celebrated by Muslims worldwide to commemorate the willingness of Abraham to sacrifice his son as an act of obedience to God. It is also about spending time with family and enjoying the simple blessings that life has to offer. The first day of Eid occurs the day after the pilgrims conducting Hajj descend from Mount Arafa in Saudi Arabia.
 

This Eid is a major social event in Dhofar. The build-up alone is an event! During the week before Eid, it is nearly impossible to move in town. The streets are filled with frantic shoppers trying to do last-minute Eid shopping. Old men bargain with carpet sellers by the side of the road, children beg their parents for new toys, and women carefully select the colours and patterns on the traditional Dhofari 'thobes' that they wear for Eid. Meanwhile, cows and camels are transported around town in old pick-up trucks, on unsteady legs, unknowingly headed for sacrifice.
 

On the day before Eid, also known as 'Yom Arafa', most adults fast and prepare their houses for visitors while keeping an eye on their television sets which broadcast the live descent of the pilgrims from Mount Arafa in Saudi Arabia. Some are even lucky enough to spot someone they know waving at the camera through the crowd.
 

At dawn on the first day of Eid, mothers prepare food and burn frankincense while fathers and sons dress in their finest for Eid prayers at the mosque. After prayers, the males head off with their relatives to slaughter. In Dhofar, brothers often get together to buy a cow or camel. They then distribute the meat among their families and the poor.
 

By mid morning, the men are back from slaughter, and the women begin to cut up and cook the meat. Dhofar's favourite Eid dish is 'ma'ajeen', small pieces of boneless beef cooked in beef fat. It remains tasty (and sterile!) for months if kept in a sealed container. Many families also make ‘makadot’, or camel meat dried in strips.
 

Children put on their new clothes, meet up with friends and visit houses in the neighbourhood to eat sweets, giggle and collect ‘Eidia’ (small change). Usually men do their visiting in the afternoon and women in the evening. When I say 'visiting' I basically mean making an effort to visit every relative in the immediate and extended family as well as all the neighbours. This can take days.
 

Every visit is almost identical. Guests are greeted in the family majlis with the usual 'Eid Mubarak! How are you? And your family? Your health? Come and eat meat!' Every majlis offers exactly the same things; Omani halwa, Arabic coffee, nuts, sweets, orange flavoured Tang, fruit, and the required bowl of ma'ajeen. It can become a little overwhelming once you've reached house number ten! Some large families choose to have a tribal picnic on the third or fourth day of Eid to avoid visiting houses individually.
 

Eid is all about being social and 'doing your duty' by visiting family and neighbours. Most people in Dhofar would never be seen in shops or at tourist spots during Eid. They're too busy visiting the 1,000 relatives on their Eid list! Looking back, I know I ate enough dried camel meat to last me a lifetime, and I probably discovered at least 10 new relatives whom I never knew existed, but it was a great holiday and a time to touch base with people I don't see very often. Until next year!