This is a little late in coming, but the day of travel and checking out the new environs in Oman took up some time. I also gave the camera a break, and by break I mean that I stupidly left it in my bag in the trunk of the cab in Oman….
Sunday began with some quick preparation for our trip to Muscat, Oman. We packed light and got a car to the Doha Airport. The people at the airport in Doha, once they see your American passport, don’t really pay you much mind or hassle you in terms of security. They do, however, very methodically check your passport at immigration for any stamps from Israel, which would be a deal-breaker for entering pretty much any Gulf Cooperation Council (GCC) states.
We flew Qatar Airways on the 1 hour 5 minute flight to Muscat. They were very friendly and entirely staffed by petite, fair-skinned women of Southeast Asian descent. Erin informs me that the darker-skinned Qatar Airways workers are relegated to gate-agent work and other lesser jobs. This seems to be the case in general for the employment hierarchy here in the Mid-East. At the bottom of the totem pole are the Sri Lankans, Pakistanis, Indonesians, Filipinos and some Indians. A step above them are the Nepalese and other East Asians like Thais, Laotians, etc. And then the fair-skinned, non-native Arabs…there are a ton of Jordanians and Lebanese in Doha, all of whom have decent jobs and form a small middle class. The native Qataris sit atop the social strata and don’t really do much other than count their money.
Upon landing in Muscat, we paid for our entry visas and cleared immigration. (Erin was given a discount on her entry visa because of her Qatari residency, while I had to pay the full cost.) The immigration guy was very pleasant, welcoming us to Oman, something that we would find a common trait amongst Omanis. From there, it was on to the Duty Free shop before we hit Customs. Each entering visitor is allowed to purchase two liters of alcohol (or 1 case of beer) to bring into the country. With alcohol prices at the hotel bordering on the absurd, we were urged by Erin’s coworkers to purchase or ration of drinks at the Duty Free store. A bottle of wine, some vodka and some Heineken (it was the only beer they sold) later, we were past the smiling customs officers, and into a cab for our 45 minute cab ride to the Shangri-La.
The Arab men like to talk to Erin quite a bit, as most mistake her for an Arab because of her coloring. She is nice to them and responds politely to their overtures, which are innocent. I end up standing there with my pasty flesh and blond hair while this goes on, clearly not anywhere close to being mistaken for an Arab.
Oman is much prettier than Qatar. It has been ruled for 40 years by Sultan Qaboos, whose picture adorns all the money and can be seen hanging in places of business, even the lobby of our hotel. The Sultan is more or less a benevolent dictator who has spent a lot of money modernizing the country. Most things have his name on them, such as the Sultan Qaboos National Sports Center, and there seems to be a conscious effort to create green areas such as parks to provide recreational spaces for the natives. Oman is quite tolerant – especially compared to its neighbor to the south, Yemen - and is trying to cultivate itself as a tourism and vacation capital of the region. It makes one wonder if the whispers about the Sultan’s sexuality are not reinforced by the tolerant nature of the country and the friendliness of the people.
Sultan Qaboos
The landscape reminds me a lot of Arizona as the mountains abut civilization, but also of Palm Springs in that there are seemingly artificial green areas. Frankly, it just seems a lot cleaner and less blemished than Qatar, even though it is not nearly as wealthy.
Our cab ride took us down the coast from the airport in the north to the Barr Al Jissah Resort & Spa on the very southern edge of the Muscat metropolitan area. Along the way we passed the Grand Mosque, home of the largest prayer rug in the world; Mutrah Souk, which is purported to be the most authentic of Arab markets; and a number of old Portuguese watch towers on cliffs overlooking the sea, remnants of the Portuguese colonization in the 16th and 17th centuries.
We checked into the hotel, had a drink and then went off to a dinner of traditional Arabic cuisine, and then an early night. The heat and humidity here are rather remarkable. The air is thick and heavy, which makes people move rather slowly. I can’t blame them.
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