Salalah

I am riding a tour bus in Salalah, just past Sultan Qaboos’ palace . We just got in yesterday after a 1000km flight over endless desert from Muscat. From my limited experience here last night with cab drivers and locals, it may be that on a whole people here are nicer (if that can be possible!) than those in Muscat.. Perhaps its that they get fewer westerners here- some of whom will inevitably spoil friendly hospitality customs for future travelers. We were talking with someone from the ministry of health last night (more on him later) and having lived here his whole life, the only other Americans that have come to Salalah were soldiers. (There are several airbases here) I of course don’t bring up asking about American soldiers, but the couple times its been mentioned- people see them as reserved and “scared.” I am expecting that its less that they’re scared and more that the rules here defining codes of conduct off base are very strict- for obvious reasons.Anyway, so last night one of the group members, Doug, met and Omani man from the market, and several of us met up with them at the café they stopped at. There were 8 of us, and after an evening of him pushing delicious kebabs, bread, hummus, and tea (the best I’ve had in Oman) and talking about religion, Dhofar (the region we’re in now) languages, and everything else, he insisted on paying- and then on top of that his friend and him then drove all of us back to out hotel! I have to admit that both last night and in similar displays of genuine Omani hospitality I have been consistently wary- trying to figure out their angle, real purpose, etc. But while I am not going to just abandon that, I am beginning to understand that I am not in Russia, or even the US.