Wadā’an

Shared Thoughts

Oman is a country of goodbyes. All countries actually are but with almost half of the Sultanate’s population made up of expats, you can’t help but notice it happening all the time. Let me clarify though. Goodbyes are not necessarily bad. Sometimes, it can mean that some people are moving on. Whether towards something better or for the worse is hard to tell. But for those expats going back to their home country after working in Oman for years, the feeling brings both sadness and joy.

One of these goodbyes is something that I have to say myself to a friend who was headed back to her home country in Croatia. We met barely six months ago but in that short timeframe, we’ve fostered a different kind of friendship that I’ve truly considered her my family.

She was in the same adventure group I was a part of. Most of our get-togethers happen on weekends but that didn’t stop us from creating a connection, one that would transcend time and now, distance.

It was easy to tell that she was headed home with a heavy heart. She’s been in the country for almost one year and six months before we met her. By then, she shared she was having trouble adjusting. Over the last six months, she’s met a lot of people who have also gotten close to her. But nature indeed has cunning ways of finding our weakest spot. Just when she was beginning to enjoy her stay, she has learnt a few months after that she has to leave.

And so on a hot Saturday, we stopped by her flat for one last time and bid her adieu. What was once her home has become empty. All the items — from her living room to the kitchen and her bedroom — were all packed with many of the items given away. It was a difficult sight to see and such emptiness is something no one will ever get used to.

Barely three weeks earlier, another friend also has to say goodbye to his friend in a different way. We were camping in White Beach in Fins when he got the news at 11 in the evening. His friend has died. The reason, a fatal car accident. It was something he wasn’t prepared for and it was the kind of goodbye no one really wanted to have in their lifetime.

Upon hearing the news, he was inconsolable. And there was nothing we can say to make things better.

Everyone living in Oman, especially those who’ve made friends with expats or even those who have gotten close with someone, whether a family member or a workmate has to face this kind of reality at some point. Many of us will not escape the depressing episode of saying goodbye to a loved one who has taken their final rest earlier than we do.

With all these changes, we would all come to a conclusion that life is a series of comings and goings — which leads me to airports.

Airports are something I both love and hate. I love it because on some good days, they are a passage to a new place, a different destination. They allow me to be in places that my soul crave for. They bring me to new adventures where I get to experience new culture and see new things totally different from what I was accustomed to seeing.

But on some bad days, I hate them because far too many times, they are the very same place where families are separated. It is where fathers and mothers have to leave their kids behind to work someplace else so that they can provide for their needs. As an outsider looking in, to see people cry because they will be separated by distance is too heavy even when one is just watching.

Parting ways is a reality we will all come to know whether we like it or not. Parents will say wadā’an or farewell to their kids when their young ones are pursuing a dream abroad or starting their own families. Kids will know this as they say goodbye to their classmates because they are moving to a different school.

One day, we’d all be masters in this saying goodbye thing. But no matter how many times we had it, it will never get easy. But we forge ahead. We move along and we move on guided by the fact that nothing is truly an end. Although separated by distance, or space or even death, we know in our hearts that one day, we will meet again hopefully to pick up where we left off.

To everyone who is leaving, wadā’an to you. And may the odds be ever in your favour. Till next time.