Archive for the 'My Taxi Rides' Category
Jabrin Taxi, 5
Monday, June 25th, 2007
The boy is surefooted, but I am not. I pick my way across the path slowly, my clogs as precarious as high heels. The air is loud with the rush of the water through the aflaj. The tunnel splits above ground into two separate falaj. They move through the earth like serpents through the sea, […]
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Jabrin Taxi, 4
Tuesday, June 12th, 2007
I try to remind my heart of how to surrender. There is no point to being afraid, I tell myself. Everything that happens in this world happens with Allah’s knowledge and permission. This has all been written of before. The pen has been lifted and the pages have dried.
The mountain is the only thing around […]
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Jabrin Taxi, 3
Friday, June 1st, 2007
It is too hot to stay on the roof for long. We turn our backs on the wadi, and climb down into the castle. Abdul goes first, and I wait for him to disappear from view before I pick my way down the stairs. On the next to last step, one of my sandals catches […]
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Sur Taxi, 2
Saturday, May 26th, 2007
My passenger regards me silently for a moment, as if trying to decide what to make of me. I cannot say that I blame him. I suppose that few lone tourists, let alone solo Western females, make it out this way. Indeed, during my time in Oman, I have yet to see another backpacker type. […]
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JP Taxi #1 (or How I Heard About the Masjid Al Quran in the First Place)
Friday, May 25th, 2007
Early March, 2007
It is one of the first afternoons all year that I’ve been able to leave work by sunlight, and I am elated. Subhan Allah, I think, as I make my way down the sidewalk. The heels of my boots click like a carriage. I am excited to get home by the light of […]
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Jabrin Taxi, part 2
Wednesday, May 23rd, 2007
I look down into the tomb. It is, above all, quiet. Here inside the castle walls, the air is considerably cooler than it is outside. I wonder how the Imam was buried. Muslim death ceremonies, as I understand them, are simple affairs. There is no wailing. Prayers are made to Allah that the deceased be […]
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Jabrin Taxi, 1
Monday, May 21st, 2007
There are three things which Abdul passionately enjoys: cigarettes, Egyptian music and speed. He loves many more things, including his son, his wife, Pepsi and sewing machines. At least, I think that the motion he is making with his hand is meant to indicate the flutter of a sewing machine’s foot. Taking great liberties with […]
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Yiti Taxi, 2
Sunday, May 20th, 2007
We are so far removed from the realm of things with which I am experienced that my instincts lack a toehold. It is as if my intuition fell out when we cleared the last mountain in Muscat, and is even now bleaching in the sun. Should I pull the car up along the mountain, and […]
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Yiti Taxi, 1
Tuesday, May 15th, 2007
Inside my hotel’s lobby, there is a sandwich shop staffed by a woman from Malaysia. I’ve come to buy a boxed lunch from her. She entreats me to sit at a small marble table, on which she places a delicate purple napkin and tea service. I nibble the edge of a piece of pound cake, […]
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Nizwa Taxi, 3
Friday, May 11th, 2007
The sun overhead shows no signs of wavering from its position. It is as if time has stopped. The streets are almost still. A few trucks, loaded with dates, creep along the edge of the wadi. The noise of their tires carries through the city, proving its desolation. For once, I cannot feel the heat.
My […]
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