I'm Gonna Lay Down My Loose Ways

Yes, that's right...I have officially parted ways with my loose and disrespectful ways after an encounter at the beach recently. It was the first of its kind that I have had in Oman, which makes it blog-worthy, and it highlights what some long-timers here are whispering is a harbinger of the increasing conservatism that seems to just be creeping in around the edges of life here.

Surely you are all familiar with the old spiritual hymn that goes slowly and rather morosely like this:

I'm gonna lay down my loose Western ways,
Down by the riverside, 
Down by the riverside,
Down by the riverside.

I'm gonna lay down my loose Western ways
Down by the riverside, 
Study those loose ways no more...

Anyhow, it goes something like that. And now that I have been accused of being full of evil and lasciviousness, I can officially belt out that hymn with other women who do things like breastfeed in public, wear shorts that don't quite come to the knee, and refuse to shave their armpits. We are an unholy lot, we are, aren't we girls?

But first, can I point out that not only have I reformed and laid down my loose ways, I also have begun sailing. You may think that this is a non sequitor but I will single handedly prove to you that in fact this is not the case.

But really first this time, a picture of the skull table for my brother.

And that was a non sequitor. And so, returning to topic...I went for the weekly Friday swim a few weeks back and after a kilometer in moderately rough seas I decided that I would fold to peer pressure and get out. After all, the other girl-swimmers had already bailed and were walking back toward the cars and on this Friday, the boy-swimmers were not there to make us feel guilty for getting out and so we just went ahead and did the outrageous--we exited the ocean.

I justified this move of mine by reasoning that I felt like I was going to barf and perhaps simultaneously drown, just for good measure, and so I exited the water in my swimsuit that covers all my girl parts, my hips, my boobs, my stomach, but does not cover my arms nor my legs in total. Wearing the suit was my first mistake. Getting out of the water was my second. My third is coming.

So after the girl-swimmers and I hightailed it back to the cars and wrapped ourselves in towels, a man in a wife beater and swim trunks approached very huffily and asked if I lived in Oman. I nodded, fairly sure that I knew where this was going since

1.) I was, for any other Middle Eastern country, pretty scantily clad,

2.) the man looked outraged,

3.) an older man was standing meters away, stroking his long grey beard with one hand while holding the other over his heart,

4.) and a gaggle of women in head to toe cover stood off to the side as well.

I stood and listened to the huffy one's spitting, foaming explanation of his purpose in approaching us--we all had loose morals (his English was really excellent and his word choice was admirable) and were disrespectful. He informed us that he had been to our country (never mind that this group is from three different countries) and he knows what women are like there. He went on to scream that this was a family beach and we were traumatizing his women. Then he spat on the ground and walked away.

After that it was goodbye loose ways for me--no more swimsuit at the beach. Now it is full body cover which actually works out well as the weather cools down because that is when the jellyfish come out and who knew that going local with the swim costume would actually stop those little suckers' stings from being felt!

And of course, when we go sailing I go with full cover as well since you never know when a boat full of fishermen is going to cross your path...or you are going to capsize your boat in front of a boat full of fishermen. Or you are going to capsize your boat into waters full of little zippy jellyfish.

The Pico when we haven't tipped it over

Another great trade-off for losing my loose ways is that when we go to the beach and see fishermen bringing in their nets, I can get in there with my fully clad body and glean sardines just like the local ladies without having to worry about such things as sunburn, windburn, netburn, or, well, jellyfish stings.

I am trying really hard to be psyched about this new leaf I have turned over but am afraid I am acting like something of a sot who has been forced off the bottle by the medical institution. Oops. There I go again with my loose Western ways.

I will really try to work on that over the next week.