Screws

In the backcountry of Oman, life is much different from Dubai. Aside from the major cities in the region, most things are slow going. Trying to understand how to live and work overseas is a difficult task, and anybody who has traveled for extended periods of times certainly knows this. Yet even after living abroad for 3 years and specifically in the same town for 6 months, life never seems to get easy. A good example of how complicated a simple errand can be was my quest to find 8 screws to replace my car speakers. Because it's very difficult to get our landlord to do anything to fix up our apartment, we've taken the initiative on everything from cleaning up leftover dust when we moved in, to building shelves and repairing toilets that leak. Not surprisingly, this gives one extra insight into Omani and broader Arab culture.

The first challenge is the timing of local stores. Almost all businesses, except for large stores, operate on a flexible time schedule of 8am -1pm, and then 4pm – sunset or 8 pm. This varies from place to place. Most towns, including mine, have a market for fresh foods, and all of the other stores are grouped according to their goods. Tailors, jewelry, hardware, homeware, and mechanics are all located next to their direct competitors. Though there is a growing number of "hypermarkets" or what Americans call big box stores (i.e. Wal-Mart or Target), most of the shopping is still done through small, locally owned stores.

It's a much more personal way of doing business that allows the customer to interact with the employees or often times the owner of a specific type of store. It fosters good community interaction and almost all people are on a first name basis, much like how I imagine small town America used to be. It also keeps prices fairly competitive for common goods, as all the stores that carry the same items are so close to each other that price comparisons are easy. Most of the time, I enjoy this surviving traditional market.

Yet some days it is absolutely excruciating to deal with, for example, when buying screws. Most of the competing stores in town are stocked with goods from the same supplier, and because the population in rural areas is very homogenous, that means that stores only carry what's popular. Despite the fact that there are no less than 5 competing hardware stores in town, all of these stores only carry wood screws. For those of you who aren't amateur carpenters, wood screws work great for wood, but crack or bend metal and plastic because they are shaped differently. Wood screws have a flat top and a triangular head, while plastic/metal screws have a rounded head and flat bottom, similar to a nut. Now don't say you never learned anything from my blog.

What does this mean and why does it matter though? A lot of things. First, it gives you a good idea of how few people are working with anything other than wood screws, which means that people aren't doing any sort of home projects, they are doing them poorly, or that they travel to Muscat to purchase screws. Also, it means that even though neighboring shops compete, that doesn't necessarily imply that there will be any more products at those stores. Most importantly, it means that I couldn't buy any screws for my speakers and have no music in my car.

Dubai

Countless articles have been written about Dubai. It's every news outlet's answer to the dark, dramatic and depressing conflicts of Iraq, Lebanon, and Palestine. Every single article I have read has showcased the city's development, architecture, and shopping, complete with surreal photographs to compliment the rhetoric. This past weekend I went to Dubai for the first time, and though I only spent a short time there and cannot comment on much of the reality that is Dubai, I can say one thing: They are unique in what I have seen, and are the only place that has pulled off an authentic and truly enjoyable pub comprised almost entirely of expats.

This may not seem like much of an accomplishment, but I think it's a sign of how cosmopolitan and generally authentic Dubai is. As I've said before, I've been to most of the countries in the Middle East. While living abroad, I have always craved for a local bar like America, complete with a noisy crowd, good beer and food, and most importantly a relaxed feeling. This last part is the most important, because traveling with my wife in even the most "open" places like Bahrain and Muscat, "Western" bars generally consist of local and expat men ogling the waitresses, dancers on stage, or few Western women who do go out. Drinks are overpriced, dress codes exaggerated to keep out less trendy single men (myself once included), and house music overplayed. This is exactly what I expected from Dubai. However, I was wrong.

Going to a good pub in a hotel in Dubai is almost exactly like going out in Chicago or any other major city in America. Wide selections of drinks, competent and casual waiters with a sense of humor, and an even more classy clientele that is far more concerned with what they are drinking and who they are talking to then staring at whatever Western woman they can find conservatively dressed or not. For those of you who have not traveled to the Middle East, this is incredibly rare outside of gated 5 star resorts in Sharm al Sheikh or Beirut that only have tourists.

I really believe that this is a testament to the fact that many of the expats call Dubai home, and thus hold it to the standard of their original homes. Our Indian taxi driver complained about the government taxes on taxis and how that affects getting picked up in different neighborhoods in the same groaning matter of a Chicago taxi driver complaining about the high gas prices. Customers demand clean lobbies, food, and good service from their establishments rather then put up with Budweiser and rude ineffective bartenders who overcharge and under pour because they can go somewhere else. There are so many hotels, bars, restaurants and clubs that get reviewed in weekly local magazines critically that they can't afford to be cheap or rude.

Furthermore, the positive cosmopolitan feel of Dubai is due primarily to the fact that it is almost entirely expatriate workers. Only 10-20% of the city's residents are UAE nationals, and that doesn't even account for the massive tourism industry present. The city is more international than any other city in the region by far, and because the Dubai government is so open to maintaining its status as a cosmopolitan business and tourism hub it is one of the most politically open cities as well.

Traditional Arab Values: and the story of how Badr saved Christmas

Not that it needs to be said, but getting into a car accident anywhere is always a bad idea. However, getting into a car accident while living in the Gulf is a really bad idea. Because of the nature of laws here (many exist but with selective enforcement), you really don't know what will happen. Aside from the obvious injuries and damages, the red tape here is completely dependent on who you are, who you know, and who or what you hit. If you hit a local or if a local hits you, it is almost certainly your fault, and if you happen to be in Saudi, it is certainly your fault. Hope the damages aren't bad and insurance covers everything. According to one lifelong resident of the Kingdom, Saudi Arabia has an interesting take on deciding fault and covering damages: both drivers must stay in jail until they come to an agreement. In Oman, it's less severe, but if you can't phone your employer to come immediately to the police station, you also go to jail. Also, driving a car without repairing even minor cosmetic blemishes is also crime resulting in jail, as is trying to repair said blemishes without the correct paperwork from the police station. If you even have a hint of alcohol on your breath, it's the same story: jail time.

Of course, having a friend or making a friend in the police will result in no paperwork, fines, or jail as well. In fact, after finally settling all of the consequences of my own minor car accident in Oman, I planned on writing a massive post much in the style of the above paragraph. I would detail the comical yet painful experience that lacked reason, explanation, and logic much like any Kafka novel. Yet after my Christmas Eve encounter with my new friend Badr, the following is far more interesting an approach to describing Oman.

Outside of Muscat, Oman is still quite rural, and many Omanis have little interaction with Western foreigners either as tourists or expatriate workers. English speakers are rare, and if you are dealing with common employees such as shop owners, mechanics, or general merchants, it's gonna be sign language or Arabic. Hence while replacing pieces of my damaged Land Rover at the local garage, the knowledge of Arabic is absolutely critical. This is a pain if your Arabic is lacking, but it does result in a far better experience then the average international city in terms of customer service, price, and attitude. I had first met Badr trying to replace a small in dash logo in the event I forgot what type of car I was driving and needed to look down and read my steering wheel. He ran a local junkyard for old cars, and happened to have a number of Discoverys around which made him quite useful for parts. After my accident I quickly realized how useful he was. After receiving quotes in Muscat for new rims, he routinely gave me parts for at least half the price of his counterparts in Muscat. Additionally, I always got a free cup of tea and a good conversation about life in America. Unlike my mechanic in Muscat, he could say immediately if something could be done, do it when he said he would, and then give me the local price.

On Christmas eve, I had just gotten my car back from Muscat after a month of repairs and red tape, only to suffer a blowout driving around town. Yet this was no ordinary blowout. This blowout happened to sever the gas line between the fuel cap and tank, resulting in a trail of diesel accenting the tire shrapnel now littering the road. Despite it being during the local naptime (similar to Siesta, but occurring between 1 and 4 pm when everything closes), I called Badr, to ask about a possible repair. Within, 5 minutes, he was there with a tow truck, two friends, and a smile.

"small problem we'll be done in 10 minutes" he said calmly in Arabic. Small problem and ten minutes in Arabic is almost always completely inaccurate and could be said for how long it takes to make a cup of tea to you'll never see your car again. Yet he was completely right. It took exactly ten minutes counting the tow, the reattachment of the fuel line, and the new tire and wheel he game me. In addition, he asked for no money, told me to return the next morning to get a new spare, and offered to personally go with me to buy new tires in order to guarantee me a good price.

Some would call this a Christmas miracle or his gift to me for buying most of my parts from him and talking with him in Arabic every time I came by. Yet really, it's the Arab hospitality that I really think is at the root. In most of the Gulf, Arab hospitality is thrown around and seen as being an obligatory cup of tea or coffee. Yet in the mountains and small villages without foreign fast food or malls, almost all of the customers are local friends and family. Anyone else is a traveler, and according to the true rule of hospitality, they must be helped. In a harsh climate, it makes perfect sense. Without any help from other locals during travel, you will die. After so many cold experiences seeing foreign workers treated inhumanely and western expats being continually ripped off, it's incredibly uplifting to know that admirable and altruistic traditional values from the Arab world still persist outside of the boom towns lining the coast.