Sultanate of MUSCAT, OMAN DAY II (3/31/2007)

From: Sherman Rootberg (BiggiRoot)
Date: Mar 31, 2007 11:30 PM
Subject: Saturday, March 31, 2007

Saturday, March 31, 2007

Sultanate of MUSCAT, OMAN DAY II

I had it backwards yesterday. This place is a kingdom, like most of the Arab countries.

Having seen about all there is to see this year and last, we had nothing much to do expect go to the souk. This souk is the oldest and largest in something or the other. Who cares? Right about here you are probably asking yourself, what is a souk? Who cares? Okay, I’ll tell you anyhow. They translate it to meaning bazaar. I translate it to a dumb name for a big bunch of stores, stalls, and stands selling any kind of junk you can think of and a bunch more you could never think of. Bobbi’s definition is bit different. To her it is another chance to buy more wonderful treasures that she does not know how we ever existed without. Okay, you got it. Arab shopping center. Where else could I possibly want to go?

This was the end of a segment and many were leaving and coming. We infidels were not allowed to walk on the docks. We could only be transported by bus. Never can trust you American terrorists. Especially since most on board are wielding those nasty canes. Never can tell when one of those nasty octogenarians will go berserk and fart or something. The captain keeps telling us what a wonderful place this is. He has been coming here for years and it is such a nice place. Clean and very little crime. As was Nazi Germany. Here you loose somebody part for committing a crime. I can see that being a deterrent. What I cannot see is these little fiefdoms being called a good place because they are not blowing themselves and everybody else up right now, as are their neighbors. Moderate bull doo. Just don’t wear the wrong clothes or point with the wrong finger and much more of that baloney.

Another cutey is the pecking order of drivers. Like all other laws, you better obey traffic laws or they cut off something you may need and will cause you much pain to loose. There is an exception. The exception is if you are a relative to the hind end, I mean his highness, the Sultan. All of a sudden there will be a car darting through traffic, cutting off trucks, buses and anything else in their way. You are supposed to assume they are royalty if you see someone driving like that. And there must be many relatives. Should you be involved in an accident with royalty, you are always in the wrong, no matter the details or witnesses.

So we got on the shuttle bus at 3:30, the appointed time. After about a five minute ride we were at the souk. Why, I again have no Idea since everything was closed until after 4:00. This thing wanders on and on. There are alley ways of stands and stores running off in every direction. After 4:00 we were no longer subjected to the wailing of loud speakers with the sounds of what sounds like someone being boiled alive. They say it is a call to prayers, which they have five times a day. If it worked, why don’t they just pray to have a life and get out of these slime pits.

Now that everything was opening, we could get down to serious business. We were just going to look. There was nothing we needed except a table cloth if we could find a nice one at a bargain. To my delight, no one has had any nearly large enough. This place is no exception. So we have nothing we could possibly want to buy. WRONG! WE means more then ONE of US. As I am sure you have guessed by now, the other ONE of US has never lost the challenge of finding something WE really need to buy.

Five bags full and about two hours later we were back on the shuttle bus. We are quickly back to the ship. Once inside I am now stopping everyone that walks by to see if I can rent space in their bath tub. Mine is really overloaded and is starting to scare me. I am afraid that one day I will be sitting in that room, minding my own business, and the ship will hit a big wave. All that junk will come falling down on me and I will be buried alive.