Daggers in the Desert
We had just arrived at the Nizwa Hotel in the arid interior of central Oman. We had been driving our rented Nissan Pathfinder for an entire day from the seaside city of Dubai in the United Arab Emirates. Nizwa
is known for its magnificent mud fort that was the last stronghold of the powerful Imams who ruled the interior for many years during the British occupation. It is also the largest fort on the entire Arab peninsula. This strategic position was important as a major crossroads for caravans of the dessert destined with goods for the many regional empires of the area.
Besides the impressive fort I was on a mission to purchase an antique Khan-jar 
which is a large curved knife worn on the belt as a sign of power and tribal loyalties. In ancient times the handles were carved from Rhino or Giraffe horns from Africa which hint at some of the regional influences of this major trading hub. Settling into our hotel I discovered that there is rather large bar connected to the hotel that is popular with the locals. With alcohol being frowned upon in Oman, this is one of the few places that the local men can partake in drink without the local community frowning upon them. Here I would try and meet some of the residents and see if they could help me track down one of these magnificent daggers.
Walking into the dimly lit bar I found that I was one of the few foreigners in attendance. Oh wait that was wrong. There was a band that consisted of four Russian ladies who were singing for beads that the local men provided. Is seemed that the men would buy beads from the bar and give them to the girls who would turn them in for tips. Kind of like Mardi Gras without the flashing. Well I saddled up to the bar and ordered some unnamed British beer and started talking to some of the men around me. One young man whom I noticed was wearing an orange version of the local dishdasha seemed to hold some sway with the others. Upon striking up a conversation I leaned that my new friend was the head of the local Omani oil company. The boy was only 22 and son of one of the ruling party members. To my surprise I had just befriended one of the most important men in the area.
After talking a bit about the where I was from and leaning about each others lives we soon turned to drinking. 
For a country that bans alcohol to most of it citizens these guys sure knew how to drink. Soon our conversation turned to simpler things as the he asked me if I needed a woman. “A woman”, I asked. He pointed to the Russian ladies dancing and singing on the stage. “Take your pick”, he said. Trying not to offend him, I explained that my wife was in my room. He finally understood and resorted to buying us our fifth round. Being my first day in Oman I learned that Arab hospitality can even consist of woman when you happen to befriend one of the most important men in the area.
Due to my popularity with this young oil tycoon I was now the center of attention for the local population in this dark pub in the middle of nowhere in central Oman. All of the other men came to meet me and indulged my vice with another drink. Needless to say i was getting pretty drunk by this time. Wait, my mission. 
Taking advantage of my newfound friends I started inquiring about getting my hands on a Khan-jar. They were impressed that I wanted to find something that they culturally held dear. All of them were willing to show me where to go the next day. Finally the man in orange as I referred to him chose who would be my volunteer to escort me around the next day to find my prize. We exchanged numbers and I was to call a man names Hassin the next day at three when he was to take me on my search. Hassin it turns out was head of the local telecommunications company. No wonder why I noticed so many cell phones everywhere. This is one of the interesting contradictions that make this county visually interesting. Local everywhere in the same clothing that has been worn for centuries and decked out with cellphones, mercedes, and coca-cola.
The next morning we explored the ancient fort while waiting for our guide. It was easy to imagine that epic battles that took place around this stronghold in the middle of a date orchard that went on for miles. After phoning Hassin we made our way to the intersection of the only highway in the area. 
There we pulled up to a little teashop and enjoyed a cup of sweet tea while admiring the view of this lively market and bus stop. It seems that to find action in these areas one only has to find the closest crossroads which also act as animal markets and transportation hubs. Hassin pulled up and asked if we would first like to see his families house which we agreed too. 
He drove us out of town and in to a what looked like a date orchard. In the middle of the orchard was a small mud walled town that looked as if from another time. We weaved in an out of the narrow streets even passing through archways that were so narrow we needed to pull the mirrors in to squeeze by. During our drive he spoke of the history of the area and about his family that has lived here for centuries. In this area the families live in extended units consisting of large groups of mothers, fathers, cousins, nephews, brothers and sisters. Hassin’s family was large to say the least.
Our next destination was a small shop that was just about to close. The owners saw Hussin and imediatly re-opened the shop and invited us in for some tea. He explained to the owners what we were after and they proceeded to lay out many ancient Khan-jars for me to look through. The owner of the shop had been purchasing these for many years and with the help of my wife we picked out a really nice one. The owner cut the price in half and we struck a deal. I picked up my newly purchased weapon wrapped in silver thread and mounted on a belt made from old silver coins. I had found my ceremonial dagger and was very happy for the friends that I had met along the way who had made this possible. Who knew that my visit to the local foriengner bar would befriend some of the more powerful men in the in this empty expanse in the arid interior of central Oman.