We have arrived in - internally and externally - on the Arabian Peninsula. There is a big difference here between what is inside and what is outside. Nature dictates it, and people live it. And think it. Although we cannot say for sure, but with a lot of interpretation.
We are still overwhelmed by the heat. For the people here, the colder season is beginning. The temperatures are dropping, and you can stay outside during the day. But for us Europeans, being outside means at most dashing from the car to the shade of a tree and then leaving it after half an hour with flushed cheeks heading back to the car. The heat can be merciless to us on some days. It is getting better, but we prefer to stay in the shade somewhere after 3 p.m. Even better: in the shade in the water. Maybe it is just so extreme for us because we have two young children with us, for whom our senses are doubly and triply sharpened. Sometimes we move very slowly with luggage and whining kids across a parking lot and then everyone feels the sun even more intensely.
So we also had to mentally arrive. Goodbye to hiking. We have given up on walking somewhere. We spend a lot of time indoors. The air conditioning is running continuously. We have rented a car - it is our retreat, from which we can safely stare at rocky mountains and the blazing sun on our journey through the United Arab Emirates and Oman. We observe the other people, and they behave very similarly. The difference is perhaps that they go shopping at half past ten in the evening - but that is another story.
The rhythm is clear: the sun sets the pace. And this leads to people hiding in houses. These houses also look like they want to hide - sometimes they are true bunkers. That also makes sense. Even the best air conditioning in the world cannot make massive open windows colder. But these types of stone walls are not enough for the inhabitants: no, they want a property wall as well. That also makes sense - around it there is often rubble and stones. No one wants that in their yard. Of course, the walls are also made so that you cannot look inside. That is just the way it is. The space in which Emiratis, Omanis, and other people we see here move is primarily indoors. This cool indoors seems extremely private and withdrawn to us outsiders. Because from the outside, you can only see the facade.
The same goes for the exterior of the people. They wear quasi-uniforms - women in black, men in white - and hide their bodies behind billowing fabrics. We are slowly getting used to this and try to perceive the faces behind these - still costumes for us. But sometimes it is still difficult to imagine these robe-wearers with popcorn on the couch or in hotpants on a treadmill. Their private life and the privacy of their bodies remain closed to us when we encounter them in the mall, at the gas station, or at the beach. That does not mean that they are not friendly towards us. Since we arrived here in Oman, we have had more physical contact and brief interactions with the locals. Everything seems somewhat more relaxed and natural compared to the Emirates. Today we drove through a place that was full of goats and donkeys and had the feeling that here live people who have not lost touch with the ground despite the oil. Unfortunately, we do not know what they think about it.
The whole body covering story affects us even more because we too have bodies. And in the outside world, we somehow have to present them. For Didi, this is relatively uncomplicated when he looks to the left and right. Shorts are also fully okay sometimes. For me as a woman, it is rather problematic. Once again, it becomes apparent how many countries sexualize the female body (and then it must be covered) and it makes me so angry inside that humans couldn't come up with a better solution. We don't want to make a fuss, but we are Western tourists and do not have to become best friends with everyone either. How much of ourselves do we reveal and how much do we adapt? These thoughts move us - how can we be authentic? We want to be people who have built mirrors inside and outside. Open windows. Authentic everywhere. This is already difficult within the family: communicating honestly without causing harm, showing emotions in a way that does not exceed the frame and distract from thoughts. Treating people as equals. Sometimes we feel that we are doing quite well, and sometimes we are at a loss. One goal of our journey is to grow together as a family, and we would probably all say that we are currently collecting a lot of practice material. We can see the relationship between the inside and the outside in nature. No matter where we drive with our car - through mountains, to the beach, to the wadis, the green oases, passing by: everything appears lifeless and barren. No animals, hardly any people. But if you look closely and focus on the interior of the landscape - under a date palm, running your hand through the sand, under a stone - then you discover the pure life. So many insects, reptiles, and birds! Plants that grow in the most impossible places. It is fascinating and beautiful.
And we also hope to sharpen our view of the people here - and to perceive the diversity of life beneath their facade, which is still so unfamiliar to us. Real life. Beyond cultural norms and conventions. Because we are tangible human beings who sweat and keep silent and love.