Bedouin Hospitality

We were only taking a shortcut to the beach… On a weekend break along the coast of Fujairah we found ourselves in a housing estate; the outside walls of the houses were spectacular. I got out and took pictures.

Front wall of house on Fujairah Coast

An Arabic man drove up and stopped: “What are you taking photos of?” 

The houses and walls; they are so spectacular, I told him. 

“Really?”

We drove off, but he followed beeping his horn and flashing his lights. We stopped and Carol lowered the window. “Would you like to see inside one?” he said.

‘Well, yes, we'd love to,’ Carol replied.

“Because this is mine, right here – please come in.”

The Bedouin are famous for their hospitality. As the explorer Wilfred Thesiger wrote: Even though starving, they would give their last food to strangers who came to visit, making sure they’d had enough before they ate themselves (see link below).

 Hand Painted Ceiling

Leaving our shoes by the door, we followed him through the main entrance into the foyer where, removing his headdress, he offered us a seat on one of several sofas. He called out to the maid ‘tea for the guests’, and introduced himself as Hassan. His sister joined us and then his mother. Carol and I speak no Arabic and they spoke only limited English making for an awkward start until his wife Ayesha arrived – she spoke English well.

Ladies Lounge

The women all wore brightly coloured clothes, not the traditional Emirati outdoor wear of black gown (abaya) and scarf (shelagh), although their hair was covered.

Eventually the tea was ready and we were ushered in to a lounge where the maid served us cups of tea, glasses of water and small sweets. They offered us lunch but we’d eaten so we declined; they didn’t join us but sat and watched. This made us self-conscious about which hand to use or whether we’d drop the china cups on the beige carpet.

The lounge was brightly coloured with an elaborate hand-painted ceiling. This is my house, Hassan said, and you may photograph anything you wish… except the ladies, of course. Of course, I said, knowing it’s a definite ‘no no’ to photograph women in the Arab world.

Men's Lounge

Hassan’s father called out from a room at the back. ‘He’s insisting we give you more food and orange juice, as a gift from him,’ Ayesha said. The maid brought orange juice and we drank it. They’d been to Europe she said but never Canada and listened in disbelief as we described the cold.

‘Did you want pictures of our house because you are building one?’ No, I explained, the houses here are very different from those at home; and very beautiful.

As we got up to leave, Hassan’s father Ali appeared: he wanted his picture taken with me.

Hassan took us through the rest of the main floor as we left. We realized we’d been hosted in the ladies lounge as we entered the men’s lounge on the other side of the foyer. This was a larger room in more conservative colours (greens and browns) and it had its own entrance, to the side of the main entrance: ‘so male guests can enter the house without disturbing the ladies’. Behind this was the dining room; Emiratis sit on the floor to eat; cushions set around the outside walls. I’ve eaten a meal like this and it’s no picnic!

We thanked them for their generosity and promised we’d call on them again if we returned to the area.

My friend Mohamed said: "I'm so glad there are people still inviting strangers into their house; with so many outsiders in Abu Dhabi and Dubai, I was afraid this tradition had died."

http://www.amazon.com/Arabian-Penguin-Classics-Wilfred-Thesiger/dp/0141442077

Fujairah Sunset - over the Gulf of Oman