The allure of Oman

My grandfather's teaboy, Abi Salim was a short thin dark skinned man from south Oman. As children, he recanted many tales about magic, witches flying in the sky, Sinbad, and genies (jinn). He once told us about a wizard in his town that turned human beings to animals; his stories were always filled with color and vivid details. As a little girl, I believed them.

The image of Oman that he painted for me had stuck with me for a long time. Even as I grew older I still thought of Oman as a magical, mysterious, legendary place.
During my trip to the Sultanate, I was determined to get the bottom of all this magic stuff Oman is so notorious for (at least amongst the Gulf countries). I asked the concierge at the hotel, I asked the Beduoins in the dessert, I asked our camping guide, I asked members of the royal family who studied in England and live in the city, I asked the 'zanzis' (omanies who have historically traded with zanzibar and speak Swahili). It was an official sociological investigation!

Every person I spoke with had an interesting reaction. At first they would brush off my inquiries as nonsense and unfounded. But as I probed and probed with more pressure, I uncovered their true opinion on the subject: They all believed in it. All of them. From the successfull hotelier that was educated in England and was running his father's hotels in Zanzibar, to the low income traditional God fearing fisherman that lived in the village. To my utter surprise, everyone had a personal story about Jinn and spells and magicians. Many of them were uncomfortable talking about it -they were aware how ridiculous it sounded- but when they did they asked me not to show disrespect by denying its existence.

The stories I heard were just as wild if not more than the ones Abi Salem would tell us. I left Oman with an even wilder impression than I originally had come in with. Perhaps it is part of the allure.