Eid Al Adha

Yesterday started the week-long Muslim holiday of Eid Al Adha, so the Sultanate of Oman declared that we all had another 10 day vacation since all work stopped Thursday evening and we're off until next Sunday. Pretty much all the expats left already, but with my hectic travel schedule lately I just decided to stay here and rest and relax for a week. 

Last week when I was in the field I wound up talking to a couple of Omani coworkers and they were shocked to hear that I was here alone and had no plans for Eid. They also couldn't believe that I hadn't been to an Omani home yet, so they insisted that I join one of their families for Eid. I smiled, said I'd love to, and then secretly hoped that no one would call and I could spend my week quietly relaxing and sunbathing.

This morning one of the coworkers texted me and invited me to his sister's house for Eid. Though my initial thought was to come up with an excuse not to go, I accepted since I figured this was something I should experience. Plus I felt like I owed all you faithful readers with a true Omani experience. So it's clearly all your fault that I had an incredibly uncomfortable day.

When I arrived my coworker immediately handed me off to his sister, since the men and women congregate separately at gatherings and parties. His sister had a houseful of people (about 60-70), so having to babysit me was probably the last thing she needed. She asked me to sit on the couch in the front room, which happened to be the kids' room. She spent a few minutes with me, but then needed to run off and attend to the food. So after a few minutes of awkwardly sitting with the kids, I wandered out and tried to figure out where the rest of the women were. My hostess caught me awkwardly standing in the hallway and insisted I sit with the old ladies who couldn't speak English. A slight improvement over the kids. 

Finally a woman about my age came over to me and said that my coworker asked her to keep me company. Her English was excellent and she was really friendly, so I was incredibly grateful that she got volunteered to hang out with me. Shortly after she came over to me it was time to eat and all the men went through the buffet first. After the men they insisted I go next, since guests in Arab households have a sort of "guest of honor" status. 

Lunch was a giant vat of rice and lamb, a type of coleslaw salad and then some pickled vegetables that I couldn't determine. My usual approach is to try a little of everything, though before I did that I should have remembered that Arab hospitality is double-edged - you're expected to eat a lot and clean your plate, otherwise people will fret that you will go hungry! Also, in Omani households everyone eats with their hands, so everyone fussed over me washing my hands. Then the women went into a bedroom to eat - a plastic tablecloth was laid in the middle of the floor and everyone sat on the floor around it and dug in with their hands. They only eat with the right hands and somehow managed to scoop up rice and pick lamb off the bone with only one hand and without making a complete mess. I had planned on trying to eat with my hands, but I must have looked panicked, so someone brought me a fork. I was incredibly thankful for that since I would have made an absolute mess trying to eat rice with my fingers.

So one of the pickled "vegetables" was a small ball that was cut into quarters. I actually thought it might be a small tomato or something, so I popped a quarter into my mouth fully. A few miserable seconds later I realized it was a pickled lemon, complete with seeds and rind! It was so awful I actually would have tried to spit it out…if only we'd had napkins. Instead I managed to swallow it and then took a mouthful of the spiciest thing ever. At this point I decided to stick to rice, even if it made me look rude.

While the hostess fussed over me and why I wasn't eating enough, all the other women in the room completely ignored me. It could have been that they didn't speak English, but I suspect at least most of the younger ones did, so they probably just didn't want to bother having to make small talk with a stranger. The few minutes where no one fussed over me or spoke to me were actually okay. At some point during the lunch, as I was listening to everyone speaking a language I didn't understand, I realized that they weren't speaking Arabic. Turns out everyone at this party primarily spoke Swahili! The Omani empire used to encompass Eastern Africa and many Omanis emigrated there during the reign of the Sultan's father and only returned to Oman after the Sultan took over. As a result, many of them still speak Swahili as a first language. 

As soon as everyone finished eating, most people left immediately without even eating dessert. I tried to sneak out, but the hostess wouldn't have it. Actually, as more people left I spent a while talking to the hostess alone and that was pretty nice. A lot of questions (and shock) as to how I'm here alone, why I'm not married, why no children, etc. I even got invited to another lunch tomorrow, but I think I successfully managed to beg my way out of it. After a while I finally said I needed to leave to make a movie showing, otherwise I'm not sure how long I would have needed to stay.

Though the entire experience was awkward, Arab hospitality is still so impressive and the hostess really went out of her way to make sure I was fed, comfortable and enjoyed myself. It was also nice of them to invite me into their big family gathering (think of it as the equivalent of inviting someone home for Christmas dinner with your entire extended family). But now that I've experienced an Omani gathering once, I don't think I need to rush off to do that again anytime soon!