Salalah – Day 1
I arrived today in Salalah to attend this week’s workshop on drafting contracts as I mentioned in my previous post. I thought that the Oman Air steward were not friendly at all, there was this Asian waitress that looked just as bitchy and rude as the a tired philipino cashier working at Al Seeb McDonalds.
We had no checks whatsoever at the Salalah airport, probably because it was an internal flight, we literally got out of the airplane and into the main gateway of the airport. It was weird. On my way out heading to find a cab, a random southlander (ie A Omani citizen of Dhofari ethnicity) asked me whether I was Nasser or Yasser, I told him that I was none of them and left him, another random southlander stopped me two seconds later asking if I was from Diwan, I was flattered, but I still told him that I was not.
I reached the cab point, drivers jumped all over asking if I wanted to get a cab, cabs in Oman usually have a ‘zam’ (turn – word is of Swahili origin I think) for first-cab-in first-cab-out system, it’s cool that there is at least a system that the cabs just made for themselves, but you usually cannot have a choice on which one of them to ride. Anyway, I told the drivers ‘yes’ I want a cab, the southlander driver asked me where to, I told him Dhofar Hotel, he gave me this look and said, 2.5 Riyals – OK?, I told that we’re good. I hate the fact that the cabs in Oman are not metered, I CANNOT bargain, I just can’t. If this guy asked me to pay him 10 Riyals to go to the hotel I would’ve just said yes because I do not know where the hell the hotel is and I have no idea how expensive cabs could get in the Khareer of Salalah. I thought that RO 2.5 was a good deal, even though in reality that is the same price I would pay for a shared cab to take me from Muscat to Sohar (200+ Kilometer ride).
The hotel turned out to be very close to the airport, less than ten minutes drive I think. We passed by Al Haffa House, a place recommended by a friend, but I decided not to go there because when I asked how far it was from the Hilton (the place where the workshop would take place) they told me about 45 minutes, which I thought was too much. However, it turned out that Dhofar Hotel is not too far from Haffa House, but Dhofar Hotel is still cheaper, so I thought that I should stay here anyway.
The Ministry is supposed to be paying us for all these ‘official tasks’ to attend workshop and training programs, I have no idea who set the allowances for these events, but the rate (Read: accommodation only) at the Hilton is 2.5x what we are getting paid for accommodation, transport and food. Al Haffa House was RO 5 higher than the allowance,but I was ready to take it, however, I ended up going to Dhofar Hotel which was within the range and closer to the Hilton.
I was pleasantly surprised by Dhofar Hotel, I had no idea what this hotel looked like, I just found its number in a magazine and made the booking, but the place is really nice, the rooms are amazing, they’re spacious and the furniture is great, I am really really surprised at how nice the place turned out to be, I also tried their restaurant downstairs and it is not too bad. However, the first thing opposite the hotel is a “Health Club” – the code for “Brothel” at the Commercial Register here in Oman, I also saw some advertisements for Thai Massages, which means Thai Prostitution, so yeah, the place is nice and everything if you can disregard these.I got into the hotel, put my stuff and decided to walk around the block to discover the neighbourhood. There is something I really find amusing about southlanders, they physically look different from the rest of the country, I am not sure if it is the weather or what, but it’s just interesting cause it is not their clothing, it is something biological.
I am also just like the majority of people, amused by the amount of make up women put here to make themselves look fairer, I am freaked out each time I look at how different the colour of their hand is from that of their face. You know how all Chinese people look exactly the same to the inexperienced eye, here, I cannot tell the difference between one girl from the other, they all have the round same face, same makeup, same accent, and they all just look the same. I am so not proposing to any girl from Dhofar.
Since I got here I started talking to myself in Dhofari/Gabbali Dialect swearing at how much I think Salalah sucks, here is my favourite quote:
(Bark’ Gn’nan’ myn mydinah 9lalah!) – it’s pronounced at faster pace than how Omani dialect is usually spoken. Try saying that out loud.
I’ve taken some photographs, I’ll post them later!
