We have been holding our breath here on and off according to the news and gossip that filters through the grapevine, our phones, and computers on any given day. At first tiny tendrils of protest news slipped out of Sohar--six dead...rubber bullets...live ammunition?...five dead...Lulu **GASP** burned to the ground...not the Lulu!...one dead...Sohar shut off from the world...none dead...more protests coming...
Stop, stop...More protests coming?!?!?! In Oman!?!?! This is the home of the ten hour work week! The afternoon nap! The smiling folk who always take the time to check on your well-being, even if you just spoke 1o minutes before. More protests?
Supposition and speculation began immediately, with blame naturally being placed squarely upon the shoulders of the neighboring Emiratis. It all made sense, people reasoned, with the UAE border being right there next to Sohar. Yes, yes, the Emiratis were definitely to blame. One long time resident said, "I am not sure what to make of this. This is certainly not Omani style to go out, burn something down, get someone killed, and then promise more of the same. I am guessing the Emiratis were involved."
On Sunday we received a panicked call from an American at Sultan Qaboos University. He was so distraught that even across the living room from Tony I could hear both sides of the conversation clearly. "Be careful!" he warned. "I have received word from a reliable source that there will be more protests on Tuesday right by your house. If things get too heated with these next rounds of protests I am leaving. I will catch the first flight out of here that will take me. It is just not worth it to me to risk my life staying here."
It was a fairly one-sided conversation filled with panicky catch-phrases usually heard only in movies where aliens suck out people's brains or spies attempt espionage.
Next came the continuous flow of text messages in Arabic and English which simultaneously drummed up support for more protests--"Meet at 4 p.m. on Tuesday near the airport!"; discouraged people from attending--"Stay away from Seeb on Tuesday. Save yourself! Save yourself!"; and reminded people to comport themselves like Omanis--"In Oman, we do not burn things. Please do not burn things on Tuesday. This is not Egypt."
Tuesday dawned, quiet except for the familiar prayer calls, and the skimpy traffic of those brave enough to disregard those pesky text messages and venture out onto the roads . Searches on the internet revealed very little additional information on Sohar. Finding no warnings on the US Embassy's website we decided to venture out toward Muscat proper and check out the science museum. The rest of Tuesday flowed by as usual, a collection of schoolwork, playdates, hiking, and driving back and forth between destinations througout Greater Muscat.
On Wednesday the stories and photos began to filter through the silence of the press, revealing what had happened near our house on Tuesday afternoon. A picture of a man in a pure white dishdasha, pushing a baby carriage down the street, draped with a signboard proclaiming his love of the Sultan. Another of a group of foreign nationals holding a huge Omani flag stretched between them, smiling as they walked down the street. A shot from above of thousands walking through the cool evening air, all gathered around an impossibly enormous poster of Sultan Qaboos. "We love the Sultan!" they had apparently chanted. "This is a demonstration of LOVE and SUPPORT!"
No hate and violence. No angry voices. Nothing. Just love and support. Now that is more like it. Okay, yes, we are still a bit confused. None of this went like we thought it would, or like it went in the other Gulf States. But for now things have settled back into the routine of the Oman that we know.
We'll keep you updated.
