Oman is at least clearly different than its neighbour Yemen.
It has money. Although it is not in the same fashion as how you would observe in Dubai or Jeddah.
At the same time you must know that Tareem is unlike the Yemen you see of the posters seeking aid for refugees.
I once participated on Habib Omar’s annual tour in small coastal town Salalah, Oman. The trip is intense and busy from dawn until past midnight, for a full three days and nights, and a little more.
Many from Yemen come for the trip too, as did I. Other annual regulars came from parts of Oman, Saudi Arabia, the United Arab Emirates and Kuwait.
Pic is of a Mawlid Gathering at someone’s house. Habib Omar is on the far left and next to him is the Munsib of al-Habshi Seiyoun. It’s clear that it wasn’t just them two that memorized, I mean memorized Mawlid Simtud Durar of Habib Ali Muhammad al-Habshi.
Dinner was often served in someone’s house after a function there. A big plate of rice cooked in Qabuuli style (as in Kabul, Afghanistan), shared between four to five people.
On the first night when we dug into the meal, the Tareemi chap next to me didn’t. He held back. And then only joined in.
It was longer than what it took to recite Bismillah and whatever extended supplication. So I knew something was up. I asked later, why the delay?
‘Mm. It was strange.’
What?
‘It’s the first time I’ve been served two types of meat on one plate.’
So?
‘I was shy.’
