As I sit in this coffee-house in one of the many malls in Muscat (the capital city of Oman), I start to reflect on the events that brought me to this coffee-shop in particular, as well as the source of my face-splitting headache I am now trying to drown with a Cafe Americano. These two things are intertwined.
But, any attempt to explain the former, or its connection to the latter, must start with the explanation of one thing in Arabian culture... CONTROL.
I started the day doing some errands. Then I was drooped off at one of the many malls (by my friend Marie, who went to class). I was going to kill some time, go onto the Internet, and perhaps even read a book. It was here that the trouble began...
What you have to understand is that control is the main aspect of of any-and-everything in this region. It's not control like a master and slave, its control like as in access. Everything locks, everything has a key, and you have to go to someone and get access through them. There are limits to what you can get to, what you can access, and when you can access them (if you are allowed at all). For example, there are locks on refrigerators, anything with a door has a locking option. It is bizarre! I am actually surprised that keys themselves don't have keys to operate them.
Well back to my story, I went to Costa (the British equivalent of Starbucks), which I usually enjoy (coincidentally, I almost never go to one of these Cafes to use the Internet, this might be my first time). Well, I try to log-on, (it is important to note that you must purchase something, your log-in codes are printed on the receipt). I then go through a half-an-hour ordeal of my OSX and my my Windows operating system not being able to get on the net. For some reason their was a problem with my machine being able to navigate the proxy and security page , which limit access to their Internet connection. After a lot of dumb-looks from the employees in response to my questions, I decided to leave and try on of the other numerous coffee-shops in the mall. I first had to go to the hyper-market and get some Panadol (headache medication) to fight of the useless stress headache, which was creeping up the right side of my head. After getting the needed remedy, I decided to check my options (there are many coffeehouses here because of the cultural aversions to places to go in public, coffee-houses have a cultural and historical place, so the transfer from West-to-East in this case was easy... enter Starbucks, Costa, Second Cup and others)
So I mentally go over the major options, of which I regularly partake in on a weekly basis when I am in Muscat... Then something dawns on me... it'll probably be the same in all of these places. The common mentality is that they are so scared of someone accessing without their permission, that they spend a lot of money on these very sophisticated log-in protocols, which are hooked up to their cash register, as well as all being set-up to work exclusively with Windows, that if they just kept it open, they would actually be saving money. But then again, people would have access to the Internet (a dangerous thing for non-Westerners) unchecked! We cannot have that!
So, I look around and see this place called Coffee Republic. Not too big, I've seen ti before other places (maybe one or two), though not a commercial giant like the others I have mentioned. I decide to give it a try. First good sign, Indians working there (Indian firms are much better run and operated than their Omani counterparts, with a more Western understanding of many things, including business models and so forth). I ask if there is Internet, they say 'of course'. I order, as k if I have to pay first, they give me strange looks. I ask for a user name and password, they say 'sit down'. I give them dumb looks. I say 'I want to use the Internet'. They say 'sit down'. I repeat, being sure they have not understood me. The repeat. I say 'what do I have to do to use the Internet'? They say, 'DO you have your computer'? I say 'yes'. They say 'Turn it on'.
I am very happy...
Needless to say this place is full of people enjoying coffee and other goodies with their laptops open, where Costa around the corner has a few older ex-pat wives in it. Well I think the moral of this story is self-explanatory and self evident. I love this place!
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