The Nots of Eid

So we just finished our first Eid holiday. I was perhaps expecting a little ornament, made in China and stamped with, "Foreigner's First Eid," you know, to put on our Eid palm. However, that is not what one does at Eid. To be truthful, we are still not quite straight on this particular Eid. However, we do know what there is NOT during Eid.

1.) No Traffic
On the morning of Day One we awoke to find our neighborhood looking fairly apocalyptic. No drivers out "washing cars" with dry rags, no maids out sweeping, no school buses shooting by blaring their horns, and, most shocking of all, NO GOAT HERD POOPING IN MY DRIVEWAY!

We packed our car and drove straight through Muscat without a single slowdown , passing through the golden horse gates at the south end of town, singing to the club music of 95.9 FM, and suspiciously eyeing every turn for the traffic jam that must be hiding around the corner. We made it to Seifa Beach in record time, pitched our tent, and sat gasping in the white sand, not from exhaustion but from the feeling that we neatly escaped the gridlock that plagues Muscat nearly 24/7.

Seifa Beach

2.) No Shortage of Good Help
We went camping with two other families and one maid. Really, who would even consider camping without at least one domestic along? As I crawled from the tent on Tuesday morning she cheerily chirped, "Cuppa tea, Mum?" Duh. Yes.

3.) No Goats
"Mom, the goats are gone," Tian stage whispered upon our return from our beach camping. The bleating that we had heard for days from over the neighbors' walls suddenly and inexplicably ended during Eid. Well, not so inexplicably. The neighbors brought us marinated, skewered, grilled goat meat on Thursday.

4.) No Clean Pavement
Benjamin and Laura called on Tuesday night and asking us to Misfat, an old town built into a canyon. We packed a picnic and drove two hours into the inland, to the Western Al Hajar mountains, unloaded our rowdy and generally unmanageable children, and began to hike into the canyon.

This is where the goats who survived Eid had been hiding, I suspect. We ran into them in shallow limestone caves, hanging out of neem trees while tearing leaves from the branches, and scrambling up and down piles of loose scree. Tehva, unimpressed by the goats, angled for bigger prey as a boy on a donkey slowly lumbered past, heading high into the hills. She bummed a ride for a ways until Tony made her disembark.

Back in the village we were impressed by the intricate canal system designed ages ago to allow equal irrigation access to all families. Every 10 meters or so there was a downspout dammed with a melon-sized rock and a pair of underwear to hold back the leaks. Star towers across the canyon mark where the stars have to "move to" in order for the next rock-underwear combo to be undammed and the current one plugged up again.

Also in the village we found evidence of what had become of the goats who had not been smart enough to take to the hills before Eid. Dark blood had soaked into the gravel and pavement througout Misfat and, as we walked past the remains of each puddle, shooing away the flies, Laura announced, "Ooooo, there's another Halal slaughter for Eid."

5.) No Rest for the Wicked
We ended the Eid hoilday with a Hindi Moviethon at Laura and Benjamin's place that lasted until 4 a.m. We brushed our teeth with our fingers and slept on their floor, only to have Tehva waken us all at 8 a.m. She bounced through their apartment as if she had slept 14 hours the previous night, forcing me to once again weigh up the relative merits of Ridalin.

We get to do another Eid after Ramadaan (next August), which is fortunate as we all are exhausted after this one. Pictures coming soon.