No, we didn't become famous overnight.
Friday afternoon, I needed to get out. We'd been inside all day and it was time for a little adventure, so we decided to go to a popular beach on the other end of town. Being Holy day here in Oman, the beach was busy with locals enjoying their weekend afternoon. It was interesting enough seeing the variety of people on the beach, and what they were wearing. Most women were covered up in water friendly tops and bottoms, guys were in shorts and shirts, and kids were in suits. There were also the vacationing folks wandering around from the Crowne Plaza hotel next to the beach, so a few bikini clad women and Speedo clad men were around as well.
Despite the more scantily clad women around (I had a dress on over my suit and did not radiate sexiness), I had a group of men come up to me and want my picture with them. Normally I wouldn't mind doing this, but Colin was right there, I mean, right there, and our rings and child was a clear indication that we were married. They didn't even ask him if it was okay, which was odd to me in a culture so engrained in respect. After taking two pictures with the first guy (the 2nd picture he put his arm around me) and realizing the other guys wanted their picture as well, I played stupid and smiled, said you're welcome to his thank you, and wandered back to Colin and Aberly to avoid more pictures. It just felt WEIRD. Not like, they were going to do anything inappropriate, but it just felt awkward to me and I felt bad for my husband who had been somewhat disrespected.
After brushing the encounter off, we headed towards the water's edge so Aberly could dig in the wet sand. I walked further out in the water and upon turning around, I realized two different guys were taking pictures of my husband and child from about 20 feet away. My "mother alarm" went off a bit and I started having visions of people tracking us down and kidnapping my child, or murdering these Americans in the Middle East. Absurd, I knew, but I was uncomfortable. I went back over and asked Colin if he'd noticed. He hadn't. Slowly, one of them men came over and asked if he could take a picture of Aberly. Breath in, breath out.... He was kind, friendly, and I realized, truly intrigued by this cute, American child playing on their beach. So, we said yes, to which he scooped Aberly in his arms for a picture. She wasn't so keen on the idea and started fussing. Well, we let him try! Another man proceeded to do the same (this time just squatting next to her) and still not much luck. We explained she could be shy so they wouldn't feel bad.
After the photo incidents, we decided our beach time was done. It was getting close to dinner time anyways so we needed to get home. I probably left feeling more uneasy then Colin did. Maybe that is just the mom in me now, but it was just an experience I wasn't expecting. Will I never head to the public beaches again? Of course not, but we'll avoid the busy weekends for sure.
Friday afternoon, I needed to get out. We'd been inside all day and it was time for a little adventure, so we decided to go to a popular beach on the other end of town. Being Holy day here in Oman, the beach was busy with locals enjoying their weekend afternoon. It was interesting enough seeing the variety of people on the beach, and what they were wearing. Most women were covered up in water friendly tops and bottoms, guys were in shorts and shirts, and kids were in suits. There were also the vacationing folks wandering around from the Crowne Plaza hotel next to the beach, so a few bikini clad women and Speedo clad men were around as well.
Despite the more scantily clad women around (I had a dress on over my suit and did not radiate sexiness), I had a group of men come up to me and want my picture with them. Normally I wouldn't mind doing this, but Colin was right there, I mean, right there, and our rings and child was a clear indication that we were married. They didn't even ask him if it was okay, which was odd to me in a culture so engrained in respect. After taking two pictures with the first guy (the 2nd picture he put his arm around me) and realizing the other guys wanted their picture as well, I played stupid and smiled, said you're welcome to his thank you, and wandered back to Colin and Aberly to avoid more pictures. It just felt WEIRD. Not like, they were going to do anything inappropriate, but it just felt awkward to me and I felt bad for my husband who had been somewhat disrespected.
After brushing the encounter off, we headed towards the water's edge so Aberly could dig in the wet sand. I walked further out in the water and upon turning around, I realized two different guys were taking pictures of my husband and child from about 20 feet away. My "mother alarm" went off a bit and I started having visions of people tracking us down and kidnapping my child, or murdering these Americans in the Middle East. Absurd, I knew, but I was uncomfortable. I went back over and asked Colin if he'd noticed. He hadn't. Slowly, one of them men came over and asked if he could take a picture of Aberly. Breath in, breath out.... He was kind, friendly, and I realized, truly intrigued by this cute, American child playing on their beach. So, we said yes, to which he scooped Aberly in his arms for a picture. She wasn't so keen on the idea and started fussing. Well, we let him try! Another man proceeded to do the same (this time just squatting next to her) and still not much luck. We explained she could be shy so they wouldn't feel bad.
After the photo incidents, we decided our beach time was done. It was getting close to dinner time anyways so we needed to get home. I probably left feeling more uneasy then Colin did. Maybe that is just the mom in me now, but it was just an experience I wasn't expecting. Will I never head to the public beaches again? Of course not, but we'll avoid the busy weekends for sure.
That's really weird. Why would they want their picture with you? Did they think you were someone else? It seems like all the oppression of women in Islamic culture leads to this odd fetishization of western women.
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