Oman Day 5

We Could Hike OR Drink Coffee

This morning we slept in… a lot! It was almost 9:00 by the time we woke up; I guess all the traveling and early mornings caught up to us. The first order of business was breakfast and boy did they serve up a hearty one here. I had planned on taking a hike while we were here as it really is the only activity available and with the incredible scenery, why not! We spoke to the front desk who provided us with a map of a local hike that is about three hours and seemed to cover some interesting areas.

Because the sun was out in full force, Jenny and I decided to forgo the initial part of the hike and just drive to the trailhead, instead of walking from the hotel. We parked the car and began following the marked trail when Jenny brought up that it seemed a bit isolated, as in, there was nobody else around. She clearly was feeling uneasy about that and rather than push us into something that would have been uncomfortable, I decided to pull the plug on the hike and instead go back to the resort to take the small nature walk around the property.

On the return trip, I saw a pull-off to the side of the road that looked like it had a great view, so I made a quick detour in there. The view was stunning and while scanning the mountains across the valley, I noticed what looked like an abandoned village. There was also a large communications tower next to it and Jenny said that the road out to it must be paved. We hopped in the car and decided to go take a look.

The road up to it was indeed paved but my oh my was it steep. The village we could see perched from the other side of the valley was actually a bit bigger and had more modern homes built back aways from the cliff’s edge. The village streets were empty, except for the almost mystical appearance of an elderly gentleman wearing a high turban walking with a cane. We passed him and gave a small hand wave but received nothing in return.

Jenny and I parked the car at the dead end, next to a huge earth roamer, so we could have a look around. The first thing we noticed was the building we had seen from across the way. It was clearly not abandoned but newly built, It was a small outdoor complex, behind low adobe walls and metal gates; we also noticed the German people walking around inside. The complex looked like it could be used for religious purposes, as it had the requisite fountains to wash before prayer, but did not appear to be a mosque. It had two outdoor pavilions built with typical Middle East ogee arches and a low bench running along the base of the interior walls. Even though we had seen the other tourists in there, we did not enter out of respect.

We walked around the outside and over to the cliff where we could see the abandoned houses, but to our astonishment, the small simple mud houses were not abandoned at all, as there was laundry drying on the roofs. The little village was overrun with goats, but people still clearly lived there. Not wanting to be intrusive, we stayed on the outskirts and did not enter the main part.

We walked back toward the car but stopped to take a better look at the complex, peering over the wall and discussing what it might be used for. We got in our car noticing another mystical elderly man walking with a cane and a distinct slight limp slowly making his towards us. Despite the 73 degree temperature, he was dressed in a traditional dishdasha (the long collarless dress), covered over by a very heavy jacket in a desert camo fatigue print, bulky black ski gloves, ear muffs and an emerald green tasseled turban woven high and loosely on his head. I gave a simple wave like I had to the previous man and just like before, received nothing in return. When he got closer, he gestured at me and when I rolled the window down, he spoke to me in Arabic. Turning to Jenny in hopes she understood anything he said, she greeted him with, “As-salaam alaikum.” He greeted her in return and motioned towards the pavilions we had just been peering over the wall at.

We exited the car and followed him as he continued to speak to us in Arabic. He unlocked the gate, and gestured for us to continue to follow him up into the larger of the two pavilions.

He then proudly waved his hand from left to right to show us the view. Jenny and I both let out an audible gasp, partly because it was deserved and partly because no matter the language barrier, we knew he would understand. I then turned to him, smiled and held my hands to my chest. He seemed genuinely pleased at the fact we clearly were in awe of the magnificent view down to the wadi that was easily a thousand feet or more below us. He continued to ramble to us in Arabic, all of which we did not understand until he said something that Jenny did understand, followed by, “Biritania? iinjlizia?” (British? English?) Jenny responded, “ ‘ana ;amirkiun” (I am American) “ Ahhh… ‘amirkiun,” he confirmed with a smile, said a few more unknown words in Arabic and then asked another question Jenny understood, “Qahwa Omani?”

Jenny said he wanted to know if we want Omani coffee. I had read about how total strangers would invite you into their homes to share coffee and dates with you, so I knew that this was something that was part of Omani tradition. We also knew it was rude to decline their hospitality but even more so, this was one of those rare opportunities that Jenny and I relish, a chance meeting to share something special with someone special and we would never have passed on it -ever! “Na’am,” Jenny responded. The man smiled, turned and then walked over to the small building where we had seen the other elderly gentleman disappear into.

A few moments later he emerged carrying in one hand, a bag and holding a brass tray with a yellow plastic bowl on it while steadying himself with his cane in the other hand.

He reentered the pavilion where he had left Jenny and me, and waved for us to sit up on the surrounding wall. He placed the tray between us, pulled a metal container of dates out of the bag and poured fresh water into the bowl. He motioned for us to rinse our fingers in the bowl and then offered us some dates and continued to due so. unto we declined them.

He then pulled three small porcelain cups out, rinsed them in the bowl and poured us each a cup of Omani coffee. He talked to us more in Arabic pointing up to the mountains and down to the wadi far below us. He pointed to the dates, and up the valley and down the valley and then to his knees. We imagined he was telling us how the dates grow in the wadis, and how he would collect them but no longer can because of his age and physical ailments. He noticed our cups were empty and offered us another round, which we both gladly accepted. We told him our names, though he never told us his, and he asked if I was Jenny’s mom (Jenny understood this).

When Jenny had finished her second cup, he again offered her some more, but this time she politely declined. He rinsed her cup and put it back in the bag, followed by his cup then mine. He seemed content; content as we were just being in the moment.

He looked at Jenny’s phone and made a motion for a picture. He then unzipped his coat and taking it off, laughed and said, “You army.” He unwrapped the green turban and much to our surprise he was wearing a smaller more tightly woven one in a lighter shade and fabric, but he left his ear muffs on. He motioned for me to stand next to him and then for Jenny to while we took turns taking a picture. He then wanted to see them. He appeared pleased with the photos, drawing his hand down his long beard with a chuckle, then gesturing to the picture and outstretching both of his arms and said, “Amrika,” Jenny and I both agreed he was telling us that somewhere in America, his picture would be hanging and you know what? He could not have been more correct. This wonderful kind man’s picture will be hanging on our wall, no doubt about it.

We thanked him in Arabic and then turned and left, both of us walking back to the car in disbelief. Jenny turned and said, “Well, we could have gone for a hike OR we could have dates and coffee in a gorgeous setting with a village elder.” Holy smokes, we were both blown away by the experience we had just been so lucky to share.

When we walked back into the hotel, the front desk agents asked how the hike was. We told them, we had not made it to the hike that we had had a far better more rewarding experience than any hike could have brought us.

Jenny and I decided a light snack would be good, so we grabbed a table and then had a very nice conversation with the hostess who is from Myanmar. We told her out of all the places we have ever traveled to, it was our favorite and we meant it. She seemed surprised we had been there, and even more so when we told her all the places we had been in the country. She told us how much she loves it too, but she has no idea if and when she will ever get to go home due to all the political unrest – so very unfortunate. We often count ourselves lucky for having been able to travel there when we did, because I imagine it will be a long while before tourism of any kind can safely resume.

After lunch, we took a small walk out along their nature trail. The geology of the area is fascinating, at least to someone like me who loves that subject, but even Jenny was amazed at the fact these Hajar Mountains, the tallest on the eastern Arabian peninsula) had once been under the sea. The rocks are limestone, a type of sedimentary rock, and as such are littered with hundreds of thousands of fossils.

Back at the hotel we enjoyed a happy hour drink overlooking the canyon. We talked again about our luck and the situation we had found ourselves in. Jenny said if there were ever an incentive to learn Arabic, today had provided it. She was happy she could understand a bit, but imagined what it would have been like to have shared a conversation with him, though she did say it still might have proven tricky because he was assuredly speaking in a dialect that was far different than the Modern Standard Arabic she is learning. Even so, I understand her thoughts.

I have always said that one of the things I love most about Jenny and am always inspired by is her ability to connect with people, no matter where we are. Her deep desire for us all just to get along, to respect one another and each other’s beliefs and cultures is one of her greatest assets. She has had quite a few beyond-memorable interactions over the course of our travels – from the women in the remote villages of Myanmar, to the trinket seller in Jordan ; today’s experience was undoubtedly right up there with the rest of them.