Oh Money

I awake to the hypnotic call to prayer emanating from the nearby mosque,open my balcony doors, scan the white cityscape, and breathe in the foreign-ness of it all.

After breakfast I walk forty-five minutes along the ocean to the Crown Plaza in Qurum, mindful of A's advice to avoid the deserted walking path in favor of the openess of the beach (for safety's sake). Arriving at the hotel, I wander the neighborhood in search of fabulous houses. They're everywhere:

Hey -- Did I happen to mention that the Omani, by all appearances, are not hurting for money? According to A, the huge-huge mansions are owned by members of the royal family and the merely huge mansions typically belong to government ministers.

Poor A humored hundreds of questions from me yesterday:

Q: Women in the workforce?

A: Oman is progressive. Many of the women are professionals: all of A's sisters-in-law are well-educated and occupy professional positions (accountant, detective with the police department, etc.)

Q: Arranged marriages?

A: Yes and no? I didn't follow her 100%, but I gleaned from her explanation that the dating process can be very formal, yet parties have a choice...In the case of one of her relatives, the now-husband fell for the now-wife from afar, so he approached his mother (?), who approached her mother, and after a very supervised courting regimen, they married. I might not be understanding this concept entirely correct.

Q: Ramadan?

A: To paraphrase, "a pain in the ass". For an entire month, people fast the entire day, so when sunset approaches, the masses are so starved and eager to reach their dining destination, that the roadways are havoc & chaos. Furthermore, every evening meal is spent with the extended family, which is nice at first, but could you imagine four weeks straight of family time?

Q: Camel spiders? (I'm morbidly fascinated by them)

A: A has encountered them in the desert, and she doesn't care for them one bit.