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.
No comments:
Post a Comment