You know what Salalah is replete with? Large women. Glorious, black-swathed big ladies. I feel like the smallest cow in the pasture. Seriously. Squishy bodies here are more acceptable than anyplace I've ever been in my life (except for, perhaps, certain bars in Livermore Falls, Maine).
For most of my life, I've felt a bit overstuffed. Some years have been more overstuffed than others. Salalah was a revelation. Although diet centers are an exploding business, local ladies are NOT going there to lose weight for their looks.
They are going because being huge is killing them. They are going because doctors are telling them they can't bear children safely anymore. They are going because they are diabetic. But they aren't going in order to look prettier or more attractive to men. Here, Omani ladies have beauty all under control at size 20 and up. I once mentioned to an Omani acquaintance that I thought I should lose some weight. He shook his and said, "No. Not good." He wasn't being cheeky; he's much too respectable a guy for that. Just honest. Of course I am the queen of the overshare so perhaps I shouldn't have mentioned it all. Ok...I definitely shouldn't have mentioned it. Let's just say I was testing out my theory that lots of Arab men prefer a lass with a generous badonkadonk.
When I traveled to India after being in Salalah for a few months, I wasn't there twenty-four hours before I felt, well, fat again. I was again aware of my overstuffed nature. It irritated me that I, a reasonably smart woman, felt so influenced by the society around me. I couldn't wait to return to Oman and resume my loose flowy clothes and my casual attitude about being plushy.
I hope it doesn't change too much in the coming years, but change is coming nevertheless. The younger girls I teach talk about being slim and dieting a lot now. Indian and Western advertising is finally having an influence here as Dhofar modernizes. So they are drinking the kool aid. I sure hope they don't change completely, so that they become like Americans and admire bodies the size of swizzle sticks.
Do I want Omani women to be healthier? Of course. Diabetes is rampant in the Gulf. Walk into Lulus and Nutella isn't a few jars on a shelf...it's an homage to chocolate butter in a giant pyramid. Never mind that I want to hug all of it. Check back with me in ten years. Maybe I will no longer be the smallest cow in the pasture. I ain't changin a whole lot though...let the world spin on. I have Nutella to eat.
For most of my life, I've felt a bit overstuffed. Some years have been more overstuffed than others. Salalah was a revelation. Although diet centers are an exploding business, local ladies are NOT going there to lose weight for their looks.
They are going because being huge is killing them. They are going because doctors are telling them they can't bear children safely anymore. They are going because they are diabetic. But they aren't going in order to look prettier or more attractive to men. Here, Omani ladies have beauty all under control at size 20 and up. I once mentioned to an Omani acquaintance that I thought I should lose some weight. He shook his and said, "No. Not good." He wasn't being cheeky; he's much too respectable a guy for that. Just honest. Of course I am the queen of the overshare so perhaps I shouldn't have mentioned it all. Ok...I definitely shouldn't have mentioned it. Let's just say I was testing out my theory that lots of Arab men prefer a lass with a generous badonkadonk.
When I traveled to India after being in Salalah for a few months, I wasn't there twenty-four hours before I felt, well, fat again. I was again aware of my overstuffed nature. It irritated me that I, a reasonably smart woman, felt so influenced by the society around me. I couldn't wait to return to Oman and resume my loose flowy clothes and my casual attitude about being plushy.
I hope it doesn't change too much in the coming years, but change is coming nevertheless. The younger girls I teach talk about being slim and dieting a lot now. Indian and Western advertising is finally having an influence here as Dhofar modernizes. So they are drinking the kool aid. I sure hope they don't change completely, so that they become like Americans and admire bodies the size of swizzle sticks.
Do I want Omani women to be healthier? Of course. Diabetes is rampant in the Gulf. Walk into Lulus and Nutella isn't a few jars on a shelf...it's an homage to chocolate butter in a giant pyramid. Never mind that I want to hug all of it. Check back with me in ten years. Maybe I will no longer be the smallest cow in the pasture. I ain't changin a whole lot though...let the world spin on. I have Nutella to eat.
Loathsome creature.
I am in no way implying this resembles local women. Or myself.
It is actually very difficult to find pictures of Dhofari women online. It is even harder to TAKE a picture, and even if I did, I wouldn't post it publicly. It just isn't on. Instead, you get a picture of a chunky belly dancer. Enjoy.
The cake of the day came in a box. I know. I'm sorry. I did a box cake last time, but I DID do homemade frosting. I had to. A neighbor left a box of Betty Crocker cheesecake mix at my door. Just like a baby in a basket. I opened my door, looked down, and it was staring up at me.
So I made it. They are fairly respectable as far as box mixes go. Can a mix compare to cheesecake made from scratch? No. But they are pretty tasty anyway! I don't have a picture of the finished product. Once again my husband was doing that inconvenient job thing. I am too cheap to go buy another tablet/phone thingie after dropping the last crap tablet and breaking it. Ah well.
Isn't this exciting? I will give you a hint. They don't look this thick in real life. You need two boxes for that. Cheaters.
I have two cakes to make today. For money. You may have noticed I no longer make a cake a day. As I explained, it's just too dang expensive. I also modified my blog description to say a year of cakes. Just not every day. It's like it never happened! Isn't the delete button wonderful?
Love,
Felicia El Aid
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