The Bahraini Experience

Published May 21, 2013 - Muscat Daily. Click here to view the column on the newspaper's website.

 

Last week I had the privilege of being invited to Bahrain to participate in an intensive all-female programme focused on the portrayal of women in Arab media. As someone who is a tad bit passionate about women’s issues, I snatched the opportunity and flew to Bahrain only to discover fellow Muscat Daily columnist Nick Smith sitting a couple of seats away from me on the flight. Fortunately for you (and him!), this column isn’t about Nick, but about Bahrain from a Dhofari young woman’s point of view.

 

Before I start blabbering on about Bahrain, I have a confession to make. As well-travelled as I may be, I have never been to a GCC country outside Oman…ever. With the exception of a short blurry trip to Dubai at the age of seven, the remaining Arabian Gulf countries have remained a mystery to me. There, I said it.

 

Until last week, I had no idea what the rest of the GCC is really like. I’ve always been too busy looking beyond the Middle East at destinations with bookstores, cool weather, boulevards, and museums.

 

In fact, my only contact with fellow ‘Gulfies’ has been observing from a safe distance the hordes of tourists who invade Salalah every year during the monsoon season. Quite often, these are not the best of impressions.

 

Whenever I picture GCC nationals in my head, I think tinted Land Cruiser windows, heat, sand, dishdashas and abayas. A classic ignorant stereotype, I know. Perhaps, I just assumed we are all the same one way or another.

 

As it turns out, we are anything but the same. Bahrain is very different from anything I expected it to be. The island country was heavily influenced by the British, politically and culturally until quite recently. The history of the country from its pre-Islamic days to the 2011 protests is fascinating.

 

Naturally, I was more interested in observing the women of Bahrain. In fact, I think I spent half my time there staring at the women. The way they spoke, carried themselves, walked, gestured and communicated with men…it was all so different. What is a suitable word to describe them? Confident? Empowered?

 

Put simply, all the Bahraini women I met (ministers, members of the Shura Council, royal elite, shopkeepers and journalists) were confident and in control. There was none of the tagging along behind husbands or being demurely shepherded around like I see in Oman and particularly in Dhofar. In other words, I did not sense too much uneasiness between men and women.

 

There was also none of the heavy makeup, huge hair poofs (the ridiculous melon-sized clips girls wear on their heads here in Oman), or overly glittery abayas. A good number of Bahraini women don’t even wear the abaya. Many of the ones I observed marched around in suits with clipboards giving out orders.

 

I suppose the emancipation of Bahraini women can be attributed to several factors including the influence of the British as well as the establishment of the Supreme Council for Women chaired by the Emir’s wife. Another factor that puts it a few steps ahead of Oman is that the first girls’ school was established in the 1920s, a good five decades before girls in Oman were allowed to go to school.

Among other things that stood out to me in Bahrain was the history of literature in the country, the poetry, the modern art movement that emerged over six decades ago, the traditionalist graffiti, and the incredible architecture compared to Oman.

 

Despite the quiet presence of riot police at various areas of the country and the ongoing political and religious tension, the island is a remarkably pleasant place to be.

 

Reflections on the programme that I attended will appear in future columns. It is too soon to begin processing the new ideas that were formed over the few days in which I remained holed up in a meeting room with 12 other strong-minded women with big ideas about the portrayal of women in Arab media. Until then!

The Vacation

Published November 6, 2012 - Muscat Daily

As many of you know, Dhofar is a region where working and driving is still taboo for many women. It is a region where marriages are arranged, female genital mutilation is widely practiced, polygamy is almost normal and where most women go nowhere without a chaperone and a face veil showing only the eyes. Things are changing rapidly but Dhofar remains the most conservative region in Oman for women.

On a quiet evening a little over a year ago a few of my very Dhofari female friends were fantasising about all the countries they'd love to visit as a group of friends. Naturally, the thought of young women going off together on vacation was unthinkable. As we sat quietly on the beach sipping our tea, I suddenly asked them 'Why not? What are the real barriers to you getting on a plane and going on vacation? You all work and can afford it'.

Their eyes widened then they sat upright and started listing the perceived barriers. It is taboo, everyone would find out, the number of suitors would dwindle, reputations would be stained, upset families, tribal problems, general societal unrest, and the possibility of male relatives getting the police to stop the girls from leaving the country.

After reviewing the list carefully, they realised there were no solid barriers. Fortunately, His Majesty Sultan Qaboos bin Said is an advocate for the empowerment of women in Oman. As far as I know, currently there are no legal restrictions when it comes to women and travelling. Following two hours of intense discussion, the girls decided to apply the law of attraction and turn their dreams into plans. Anyone who walked past our group of huddled abayas on Haffa Beach that evening didn't know they were witnessing history in the making.

After 14 months of outrage, fights, tears, blackmail, and sheer determination, the girls packed their bags and we flew out to a beautiful European city at the top of our travel list. Many of our overly conservative male peers in Dhofar would probably assume we immediately threw off our headscarves and went clubbing. What really happened, though? What happens when you release a group of Dhofari girls from conservative families into the world for the first time on an allgirls trip?

Believe it or not, our intense seven days of pure bliss over Eid holidays last week involved bright-coloured headscarves (a wonderful break from the traditional black), long breakfasts at little cafes, bookstores, museums, galleries, lectures, long walks, many cups of tea, exploring the city on foot, and skipping through puddles in our boots.

The whole trip was everything we had wished for and more. Goodness knows we earned it. Several times a day the girls would ask each other 'Is this really happening? Am I really here?' On the flight back to Salalah we high-fived each other and celebrated our success as we slipped back into our fashionable black abayas.

Our trip may not seem like much of an achievement if you're unfamiliar with this region, but it means a lot to us. I remember when the idea of going to college after high school was still taboo. I remember when young women first started to drive and work. When breaking deeprooted traditions that are not practical, someone has to start. Someone has to pave the path for others.

Following the usual 'What did you do over Eid?' conversations this week at work, I sat through long uncomfortable silences followed by awkward conversations with my traditional middle- aged male colleagues after I confirmed that all my fellow travellers were indeed unmarried independent Dhofari females. They were difficult conversations but they needed to happen. Change has to start somewhere. What comes next? Another vacation? We may have opened up a whole new world for girls in our conservative little town.

I'm not calling for an immediate revolution and saying all Omani girls should get a passport and go backpacking through Europe. All I'm saying is that your life is too short to be tied down by invisible chains. Quite often the only real barrier stopping you from achieving your dreams is you. Your life and your choices are your own. I know mine are.

Muscat Beckons

Published February 14, 2012 - Muscat Daily. Click here to view article.

Every summer tens of thousands of Omanis from northern Oman head to the south for their annual Khareef migration. Dhofar's lush monsoon is the perfect getaway from the soaring summer temperatures in Muscat and the interior.Local newspapers bring up the migration on a regular basis throughout the monsoon season and the Ministry of Tourism posts teams at airports to record the number of visitors going into Salalah. It's a big deal.

However, has anyone noticed the annual exodus of Dhofaris to Muscat during the cooler months of the year? I have. Last weekend I treated myself to the spectacular South African ballet performance at the Royal Opera House with a good friend.

My weekend involved the usual shopping, a mandatory coffee at Shatti al Qurm and a brief visit to Muscat Festival at Qurum Park. The difference with this trip is that I spotted people from Dhofar wherever I went.

Muscat Festival and the major shopping malls were packed with Dhofari women on shopping sprees. Dhofari men could be seen lounging in all the cafes on the beach enjoying Muscat's beautiful February weather.

You may be wondering how I can pick out a Dhofari in a crowd. Trust me, it's easy. Dhofari women can be easily identified from the face veil with the eye slits, glittery abayas and their clip-on hair pieces the size of large melons.

The men are even easier to identify from the way they walk and – for lack of a better word – their swagger. Their dishdashas are usually quite long and sometimes even touch the ground. Their kummas' (caps) are usually tipped slightly to one side and often they have a tasseled turban thrown over one shoulder or draped casually over their heads. The Dhofari accent is also very easy to identify.

So why have Dhofaris chosen Muscat as their top holiday destination? First of all families in the south can be quite large. It's convenient to pack the whole family into a couple of cars and drive up to Muscat to spend a week or two in a rented apartment. Salalah is pretty deprived when it comes to shopping malls, cafés, restaurants, cinemas and entertainment, hence the fascination with Muscat. The capital area is a very nice place to be in during the winter.

Whenever I'm in Muscat, I use my time to catch up with friends, meet new people, stock up on treats, and pretty much indulge myself in every way possible. There's always something interesting going on, and the newly opened Royal Opera House has given me even more reason to fly up regularly. I have been to four performances already and look forward to many more in the coming years.

As a Dhofari woman, Muscat also allows me to be anonymous if only for a few days. I relish the freedom of cozying up in a café and working on my laptop without worrying about being stared at or recognised by members of the tribe (female…. face exposed …spotted at café… chaperone-less…must report!) I'm exaggerating a bit, but you know what I mean.

Dhofar is pretty conservative when it comes to women. I know Muscat and Salalah are only a 1,000km apart but they might as well be two different countries.

I do enjoy my brief jaunts to Muscat, but I'm always ready to come home when they're over. The hustle and bustle of the big city is fine for a weekend, but I can't imagine spending more than a week in Muscat. When the pilot announces the beginning of the descent to Salalah on the flight home, I put my book down and look out of the window to admire the view. I can never get enough of it. The moment the desert turns into smooth hills and I see the green banana plantations, palm trees and pristine beaches, my heart skips a beat. Muscat has its charms, but home is where the heart is!

The Salalah Shuffle

Anyone who flies Oman Air regularly between Salalah and Muscat will immediately know what I’m talking about. Someone had to write about it eventually. It’s just too comical to ignore.

Last week I was in Muscat and on my last day I had to attend an all-day meeting then immediately head to the airport to catch my flight back to Salalah. By the end of the day, I was exhausted and looking forward to a smooth flight home.

I checked in early to make sure I was guaranteed a window-seat, and the woman at the business class counter cheerfully confirmed she had secured it for me. I thanked her profusely and headed off to the superb Oman Air business class lounge; one of the perks of being a loyal Sindbad Silver member.

If my air miles were credited to my account accurately, I’d probably be Gold by now, but I don’t mind. I’m a pretty content flyer as long as I get my window seat. Did I already mention that?

When I reached the designated gate for my flight, my heart began to sink. I counted at least 20 veiled women waiting at the gate. This could only mean one thing; The Salalah Shuffle was bound to happen. Despite my intense prayers as we boarded the flight, luck wasn’t on my side that night. A very large veiled woman was planted firmly in my seat when I arrived.

I sighed and handed the cabin crew member my boarding pass. Without batting an eye, she directed me to an aisle seat a few rows down. I told her I had specifically requested a window seat but she repeated again that I had to move to the aisle seat.

I gritted my teeth and settled down in the new seat. I didn’t bother putting my bags up in the overhead bins because I knew I’d be shuffled at least one more time before the flight took off.

Within a few minutes, a tired looking man arrived and informed me that I was sitting in his seat. I stood up and apologised, explaining my situation. He nodded and confirmed that he was familiar with the Salalah Shuffle.

After consulting a cabin crew member again, I was shifted to yet another seat. By this time, all hell had broken loose on the flight. There were stubborn women blocking the aisles because they refused to sit next to any strange man. Other women had simply taken over empty seats and refused to move, as was the case with my precious window seat.

Honourable men jumped up from their seats and swore they’d give them up for any woman. Frustrated tourists were trying to understand what was going on. Cabin crew members were frantically trying to seat and re-seat everyone so the flight could take off on time.

And that my friends, is the Salalah Shuffle.

After being moved three times, I was finally assigned a middle seat at the back of the plane between two annoying people who hogged the arm rests the entire flight. Boy was I glad to get home that night!

If you’re not familiar with the Salalah Shuffle and think I’m exaggerating, rest assured that I’m not. I have been on over 35 flights between Salalah and Muscat in the past twelve months. If I’m not qualified to write about this, then I don’t know who is. I am a survivor. With every flight from Muscat to Salalah I am prepared for the inevitable chaos that will surely ensue.

Sometimes I’ll be settled in my seat when a cabin crew member will approach me and beg me to change seats because a stubborn woman somewhere is refusing to sit next to a man and somehow I look like a friendly person who doesn’t mind switching seats.

Most of the time I’m happy to oblige because I feel sorry for the flight’s cabin crew. The Salalah Shuffle is a bigger nightmare for them than it is for people like me.

You may be thinking cabin crew should just be stricter with their arrangements. That’s true. However, when an elderly woman (or several!) has taken over someone else’s seat and refuses to move, how do you deal with a situation like that?

You can’t delay the flight or force her to move. It simply doesn’t work. Shuffling and re-shuffling passengers is extremely frustrating and a complete waste of time. Furthermore, for security reasons I assume it’s important to have people seated in their designated seats.

Why not look for a win-win situation? Society in Salalah is still very conservative and I fully understand women’s hesitation to sit next to a strange man. My humble suggestion to Oman Air at this point is to unofficially dedicate the back few rows of every flight between Salalah and Muscat to women. Surely that can’t be too hard, right?

Whenever a woman checks in, send her to the back. It’s the same as dedicating the first row to women with babies. There’s a logical solution to any problem, and as far as I’m concerned the Salalah Shuffle has gone from being deeply amusing to plain annoying. Makes you wonder how Saudi Arabian airlines function!

Published December 20, 2011 - Muscat Daily

Oman's Pride: The Royal Opera House

Think you’ve read enough Royal Opera House Muscat (ROHM) reviews these past few weeks? Well, here’s one more. Rest assured that this will probably be the only opera house column from my end of the country this year.

In 2001, His Majesty Sultan Qaboos bin Said - a lover of classical music - ordered the building of an opera house in Oman. At the time, it all seemed like a farfetched dream. Ten years later, his vision became a reality.

Before I elaborate further, keep in mind that I'm a devotee of classical music and arts as well. Just a few months ago I thought I was beyond privileged to see Swan Lake at the Royal Opera House in London.

Little did I know that before the novelty could wear off, I would be in possession of tickets to Swan Lake here in Oman, performed by none other than the famed Russian Mariinsky Ballet! In my own country! Only one hour by plane from my home in Salalah. That’s only 12 hours by bus, ten by car or nine days by camel, depending on your preferred method of travel. It’s a dream come true.

During my visits to Muscat in the past three years or so, I'd drive by the ROHM construction site and my heart would skip a beat from sheer excitement. The day the tickets went on sale in September and it was revealed that world-renowned Italian tenor Andrea Bocelli would be performing, I went online and almost had a nervous breakdown because the payment page didn't appear to be working. I couldn't just stroll into the box office because I live at the other end of the country.

I frantically tried the hotline and e-mail address provided on the ROHM website, but received no answer. They were overwhelmed with requests. I finally begged a friend living in Muscat to buy the tickets for me and after he posted them safely in the mail, he was promised they'd arrive within three days. Three weeks went by and my mailbox remained empty.

Oman Post had lost my tickets to the sold-out Bocelli concert (and you thought Najma al Zidjaly was the only Muscat Daily columnist with a Bocelli sob story?). My friend had to go back to the box office and get the tickets re-printed. Two weeks after I received the newly printed and couriered tickets, the old ones arrived in the mail. Do the math. It took over five weeks for a small envelope to reach Salalah from Muscat.

My story didn't end at that. The day of the performance just happened to coincide with tropical cyclone warnings. My mother, brother and I were scheduled to fly up to Muscat on the day of the performance. As we drove towards Salalah airport, the palm trees lining the highway were bent backwards from the force of the wind and I started getting calls from people warning me that flights may be cancelled due to bad weather. With the performance only a few hours away, we began to lose hope.

Our flight finally took off and we landed in Muscat only to discover that the bad weather had followed us up north. It was pouring and we were stuck in the world's worst traffic jam. Despite the drama, we reached our destination on time. All I can say is that the venue was incredible, the atmosphere was surreal and the performance was mind-blowing. Not only did Bocelli come back for several encores, but also received seven standing ovations. The whole experience was everything I'd hoped for, and more.

All in all, I am so proud of the progress Oman has made over the past few decades and the balanced choices we continue to make when it comes to development. Some people I know who were involved in the protests and sit-ins earlier this year claim they're boycotting the opera house because they believe the money spent on the project could have been used to fulfil more of their demands.

To me, that is ridiculous. First of all, most of their major demands were fulfilled almost immediately. The remaining demands were either irrelevant or need more time to be studied. Furthermore, the ROHM project was launched in 2001, and it would be insane to stop in the final stages because a group of guys protesting on a roundabout want their debts cancelled. As harsh as my words may seem, that's the reality of it.

As far as I'm concerned, the opera house will take tourism in Oman to a whole new level, thus boosting our economy and providing more jobs to Omanis. Isn't that what we want?

Furthermore, Omanis will be introduced to the best of the world's classical arts, and hopefully the world will also be introduced to the very best of Oman. As an Omani, I'd rather have an opera house here than mega shopping malls and skyscrapers.

ROHM is going to put Oman on the map in a completely different and very positive way. Just in the few weeks since the launch of the opera house, we've made it to Lonely Planet's top ten places to visit in 2012, as well as National Geographic Traveller's top 20 destinations for next year. And that's just the beginning!

The inaugurating season features world class talents like Andrea Bocelli, Renee Fleming, Placido Domingo and the Mariinsky Ballet. According to recent articles, the ROHM also promises to nurture and cultivate local talents.

If that's true, then it will become a centre for bridging cultures and fostering understanding. Music and arts have the potential to unite people regardless of their nationality or religion. There are no boundaries with the arts. It’s something most people on this planet can relate to. To sum things up, the ROHM is truly an inspiration, and I'm looking forward to the second part of the season!

Published November 22, 2011 - Muscat Daily

Salalah Meets Washington

Published June 28, 2011 - Muscat Daily

( I wrote this while in transit at Frankfurt Airport last week. Humour me, will you?)

It's 5am in Frankfurt and I have not slept for two days. After combing the airport for nearly an hour in search of decent coffee, I finally found this café. There is a lot of bustle and activity despite the early hour, and the huge monitor above my head tells me my plane doesn't take off for another four hours.

I'm on my way home after spending an incredible week on the US Foreign Press Centre Tour on blogging/writing for social and political change that took place in Washington DC and Minneapolis. In other words, and despite severe caffeine deprivation, life is great and all is well in my world.

A couple of months ago I was contacted by the US Embassy in Muscat asking if I would be interested in participating in the tour, based on my work for this column. Candidates were selected from countries that are currently struggling with social and/or political tension. Never one to turn down an interesting opportunity, I agreed immediately.

Upon receiving the final list of selected participants in May, I knew it wasn't going to be an ordinary tour. The 19 people who would be joining me represented China, the Philippines, Indonesia, Pakistan, Afghanistan,Kyrgyzstan, Kazakhstan, Armenia, Turkmenistan, Portugal, Germany, Morocco, Bahrain, Jerusalem, Iraq, Bahrain, Zimbabwe, Uganda, and Kenya. When I first saw the list, I couldn't believe I would be spending an entire week with such a wide mix of nationalities. Their impressive biographies were intimidating, but once I got to know them, I knew I'd made friends for life.

Our Washington leg of the tour involved meetings with officials at the State Department, employees at the Foreign Press Centre, NGO representatives, bloggers, journalists and activists in Washington. We then moved on to Minneapolis where we were invited to meet with professors and students at the University of Minnesota's Journalism Centre. We also took part in Netroots Nation, a political convention for American progressive political activists.Being involved in the world of American politics, if only for a few days, was quite the experience, especially for those of us who come from countries where political activism is almost non-existent. The theme at most of our meetings was the use of social media in invoking political and social change.

All the roundtable discussions gave us the chance to see things from the Americans' point of view, in addition to hearing what my fellow participants had to say on the current situation in their respective countries. Our understanding of US government policy regarding civil society initiatives, democratic reform, and Internet freedom has definitely increased.

Our tour was jam-packed with meetings and appointments, with barely enough time for sleep, let alone sightseeing! However, I have nothing to complain about. The FPC were wonderful hosts, and we met some incredible people from all walks of life over the course of those five days, starting with very senior officials at the State Department and ending with homeless musicians and Amish vendors at the Minneapolis Farmers' Market. If you've never heard of the Amish people, I advise you to look them up online immediately, if not sooner.

Apart from writing about the recent political unrest in Salalah, my interests have always leaned more towards social issues and women's issues in Oman. However, after the tour and with the Oman Shura Council elections coming up, I confess I find myself intrigued by the world of politics.

Social media has forever changed the face of politics in the US, and I'm sure, in the years to come, the same will be true for Oman. Judith McHale, the Undersecretary of State for Public Diplomacy and Public Affairs, said something to us on our first day that kept coming up again and again in our official and private discussions for the remainder of the tour. She said, “The days of one-to-one government relations are over.”

Thinking about it now, what she said was very true. With online social media tools and websites like WikiLeaks available to hundreds of millions of people around the world, it will become increasingly difficult for governments to withhold information from their people.

Politics and social media aside, I think the most valuable lesson I learned from this tour was to sit back and listen to the world speak, literally. We often get so absorbed in what is happening in our own countries that we neglect to take an interest in world affairs. Our tour brought together activists and writers from 20 countries with nothing in common but an Internet connection and a passion for creating positive change.

After listening to first-hand accounts of the horrors that face my fellow participants in places like China, Zimbabwe, and even our neighbour Bahrain, I was truly humbled.

Overall, the tour was an eye-opener for me and I am bursting with new ideas. Oman may not seem like the most democratic of nations, but we are pretty stable and are definitely on the right track. We have more freedom of speech than we think and we have much to be thankful for. I left the US feeling inspired, empowered, and extremely proud of my country. I honestly feel blessed to be living in Oman. You should be too.

Washington D.C

                                             (photo taken on steps of the Lincoln Memorial in D.C)

In April, I received an email from the US Embassy (Muscat) asking if I'd like to participate in a Foreign Press Centre (State Department) sponsored tour for writers/bloggers in Washington D.C in June. Never one to turn down an interesting opportunity, I agreed and a few weeks later heard I'd be accepted into the program along with 19 amazing writers and activists from around the world. I spent the whole of May doing background reading and researching every possible related topic and finally I packed my bags and boarded that Oman Air flight out of Salalah on June 11th. The tour was I.N.C.R.E.D.I.B.L.E and I will be writing a lot about what I learned once I get over the jet-lag (believe me, you do not want to see my face after 55 hours of travel and no sleep). Nevertheless, I thought you should know that I will no longer limit this blog to my newspaper columns and articles. After the intense intellectual stimulation of the past week, I've decided to blog more regularly. I'm literally bursting with ideas. Thank you Department of State and US Embassy Muscat!