My best Omani friend at the university has come back to his old position as head librarian. He was substituting for a while as head of HR, and we hardly saw each other all semester as we were both crazy busy and working in different buildings.. He is one of those Omani men whose dishdasha gets shorter as his beard gets longer; he is a humble and gentle man with really twinkly eyes, and has a really wicked sense of humor.
I always joke that in most cultures, the shorter the skirt, the more promiscuous the wearer; but here in Oman it works the other way round- the shorter the dishdasha, the more holy and pious the person.
We joked a bit today, but got onto some serious topics as well, and he told me this story.
In the time of Mohammed, there was a man who married a woman of his own choosing. It was a love marriage and they were very close. It was not long before the first baby arrived. However, the husband had to embark on a long journey of 6-8 months and in that time the young child fell ill and died. In the words of my friend, "there was no email in those days", and the news was not relayed to the man. It was a very difficult time for the woman, being separated from her love as well as losing her baby.
So, finally she got word that her husband would be home the next day around the time of the Maghrib prayer, around sunset. She prepared herself,-in these days we would say she went to the "beautification saloon"- , she prepared the house and also went to the market to have his favourite meal ready.
The reunion was joyful and when he asked about the child, she bit her lip said that he was having a good long sleep.
The night was passionate and happy, and it was only in the morning when he asked again that she gave him the sad news.
He went straight to Mohamed, upset and also angry. He complained about his wife, that she had lied to him, and waited for the prophet's reaction. To his surprise, he was sent home to go and think again, as what she had done was a symbol of her deep love.
I found the story moving, and I have such a deep respect for the inherent strength seated in every woman.
I am truly happy today, as I know that my loved one will be home soon after a couple of weeks away. I am doing the necessary preparations, and I so look forward to revisiting the contours of his face.
I always joke that in most cultures, the shorter the skirt, the more promiscuous the wearer; but here in Oman it works the other way round- the shorter the dishdasha, the more holy and pious the person.
We joked a bit today, but got onto some serious topics as well, and he told me this story.
In the time of Mohammed, there was a man who married a woman of his own choosing. It was a love marriage and they were very close. It was not long before the first baby arrived. However, the husband had to embark on a long journey of 6-8 months and in that time the young child fell ill and died. In the words of my friend, "there was no email in those days", and the news was not relayed to the man. It was a very difficult time for the woman, being separated from her love as well as losing her baby.
So, finally she got word that her husband would be home the next day around the time of the Maghrib prayer, around sunset. She prepared herself,-in these days we would say she went to the "beautification saloon"- , she prepared the house and also went to the market to have his favourite meal ready.
The reunion was joyful and when he asked about the child, she bit her lip said that he was having a good long sleep.
The night was passionate and happy, and it was only in the morning when he asked again that she gave him the sad news.
He went straight to Mohamed, upset and also angry. He complained about his wife, that she had lied to him, and waited for the prophet's reaction. To his surprise, he was sent home to go and think again, as what she had done was a symbol of her deep love.
I found the story moving, and I have such a deep respect for the inherent strength seated in every woman.
I am truly happy today, as I know that my loved one will be home soon after a couple of weeks away. I am doing the necessary preparations, and I so look forward to revisiting the contours of his face.
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