Photo by Linda Pappas Funsch Bayt al-Falaj, Muscat. Built in 1845 during the reign of Sultan Sa'id bin Sa'id, "The Great," as a summer palace, today it houses the Sultan's Armed Forces Museum. AUDIO SLIDE SHOW — Drawing from her collection of photos, Linda Pappas Funsch compares her experiences in Oman more than 30 years ago to those of her most recent trip.

A VIDEO INTRODUCTION AUDIO SLIDE SHOW: Drawing from her collection of photos, Linda Pappas Funsch compares her experiences in Oman more than 30 years ago to those of her most recent trip.

Little did I realize at the time that I would be a witness to a pivotal moment in that country’s history.

This was a country, one of the oldest in the region, which unlike its neighbors, had not only been colonized by a major European power but, in turn, had exercised sovereignty over faraway lands oceans away.

This was a country of rich cultural diversity, which seemed to defy the usual stereotypes of intolerance and violence that too often characterize that beleaguered region.

This was a country of moderate politics, an “island of stability” in the Middle East, which has enjoyed a history of cordial relations with the United States for almost 200 years.

This was a country of stunning landscapes and breathtaking vistas, of forbidding deserts and lush oases, dramatic mountain ranges and spectacular fjords, rising from the sea.

This was a country of tribal people, desert nomads and seafarers who had, for centuries, learned to accommodate to their challenging environment, and who suddenly, after a period of relative isolation from the outside world, were poised to meet the modern world, head-on.

The Sultanate of Oman (not to be confused with Amman, the capital of the Hashemite Kingdom of Jordan) occupies a strategic corner of the Arabian Peninsula. It is one of seven countries that share that land mass, situated on its eastern coast, and surrounded by the Persian Gulf, the Gulf of Oman, the Arabian Sea, and beyond that, the Indian Ocean.

Occupying an area roughly equivalent to that of the state of Kansas, Oman is bordered on the south by the Republic of Yemen and to its north by the United Arab Emirates, Qatar, Bahrain and Kuwait. The Kingdom of Saudi Arabia lies to its west.

With more than 1,000 miles of coastline, Oman is oriented more toward the Asian subcontinent of India and Pakistan beyond its shores than toward the Arabian Peninsula and the world’s largest desert, the fabled and forbidding “Empty Quarter” (Rub al-Khali), at its back. Its diverse culture, far-reaching trade relations and extensive imperial exploits attest to Oman’s sustained history of interaction with peoples of distant lands.

For much of its recorded history, Oman was best known for supplying the ancient world with frankincense, which produces an intoxicating aroma when burned. Treasured by priests and kings, by Julius Caesar, Cleopatra and Alexander the Great, Omani frankincense was valued as highly as gold. This coveted milky resin is still extracted from an unusual-looking tree found only in the southern reaches of the sultanate and in neighboring Yemen.

While the allure of frankincense has long since diminished, Oman has, in recent years, re-emerged on the international stage. Ruled by a new generation of leader in the Middle East, its British-educated sultan, commonly regarded as a brilliant and strategic visionary, has catapulted this ancient land and proud citizenry into a new and modern age.

In 1970, Oman was little more than a medieval potentate. Obsessed by fears of western influence and societal corruption, its ruler, Sa’id bin Taimur Al Sa’id, had virtually sealed off his country from the wider world. Sultan Taimur imposed draconian measures on his countrymen, effectively isolating them from the modern age.

For much of the 20th century, Oman, once a great international power, languished as one of the most forgotten quarters in Arabia. One of the most backward and underdeveloped places on earth, it was often described as “the Tibet of Arabia.” There were six miles of paved road, no municipal water system, no newspapers, radios or televisions, and a single electrical power plant. Within the country, education was limited to three schools, open only to boys.

Lacking public healthcare facilities, the average life expectancy was 47 years.

Private cars were forbidden, permits were needed even to wear eyeglasses, a Western “corruption,” and there were no streetlights, lest Omanis be tempted to carouse after dark. Promptly at 8 in the evening, a cannon boomed and the heavy wooden gates of Muscat, the capital, were closed tight.

In 1970, the 30-year-old Qaboos bin Sa’id Al Sa’id, only son of Sultan Taimur, and newly graduated from the Royal Military Academy of Sandhurst, overthrew his father in a bloodless coup. The new sultan, educated in Britain, was eager to lead his country into the 20th century.

“I promise you to proceed forthwith in the process of creating a modern government. My first act will be the immediate abolition of all the unnecessary restrictions on your lives and activities.

“My people, I will proceed as quickly as possible to transform your life into a prosperous one with a bright future. Every one of you must play his part towards this goal. Our country in the past was famous and strong. If we work in unity and cooperation we will regenerate that glorious past and we will take a respectable place in the world.

“I call upon you to continue living as usual. I will be arriving in Muscat in the coming days and then I will let you know of my future plans.

“My people, my brothers, yesterday it was complete darkness and with the help of God, tomorrow will be a new dawn on Muscat, Oman and its people.

“God bless us all and may He grant our efforts success.” And so began the reign of Sultan Qaboos on July 23, 1970.

The challenges were formidable. As a start, the young monarch urged educated Omani expatriates to return home to lend their talents to the tasks ahead. Further, he invited international development teams to the sultanate to advise on virtually every aspect of nation-building.

In 1974, while living in Beirut, Lebanon, on assignment with the Ford Foundation, I was invited to Oman for the first time. As a member of a delegation of specialists, social scientists and representatives of non-governmental organizations, we were charged with reviewing the results of fieldwork which the foundation and UNICEF had sponsored in the towns of Nizwah and Sohar.

The objective of our project was to identify and prioritize areas of critical concern in the fields of maternal and child health, basic education, nutrition and family planning. Within the country, we met national policymakers, local leaders and villagers. We ventured into homes, where the females of our delegation were welcomed into the inner sanctum of the harem, or private quarter, of Omani homes.

As we traversed the sultanate, a world unfolded unlike any we had previously experienced. Everywhere were scenes seemingly plucked from the pages of “One Thousand and One Nights.” Here was an ancient land, trapped in relative isolation for several decades, suddenly poised for a dramatic debut into the modern age.

Throughout the ensuing years, I continued to follow with great interest reports of the myriad changes that were transforming Oman into a dynamic nation-state.

Imagine my delight, then, at receiving an invitation from the National Council on U.S.-Arab Relations (NCUSAR) this past spring to return to the sultanate after an absence of 32 years. This time I would be accompanied by my husband and a small group of American educators and CENTCOM military personnel for an “Anthropological Immersion Experience in Oman.”

Unlike the somewhat more official tone and tightly scheduled meetings which characterized our NCUSAR tour of Saudi Arabia last autumn, this trip was designed as a broad cultural immersion, intended to give participants a firsthand look at the land and people of Oman. The proposed itinerary read like something which might have been plucked from the pages of National Geographic magazine.

During the course of our two-week adventure, we would explore the picturesque coastal regions and pristine beaches of the sultanate. Our journey would take us across barren mountain ranges, venturing beyond paved roads in four-wheel drive vehicles across great wadis (dried river beds).

Stopping off in remote villages and lush oases, we would meet with potters, weavers and tribal folk. Who could resist the prospect of sleeping under the desert sky in a Bedouin camp, or sailing with Arab mariners around the majestic fjords of the Musandam Peninsula aboard a legendary dhow (sailing vessel)?

Our Omani adventure would be guided by two exceedingly capable gentlemen. The first, Dr. John Duke Anthony, president of the National Council on U.S.-Arab Relations, is an internationally-respected expert on the countries of the Arabian Gulf; his grasp of the history, culture and dynamics of the region is without parallel.

Peter J. Ochs II, or “Peachey,” as he is known to friends, would accompany us as well. Author of the “Maverick Guide to Oman,” the first English-language guide on the sultanate to be published in the U.S., Peachey’s intimate knowledge of Oman’s unusual and rugged terrain would be invaluable, particularly as we frequently strayed far off the beaten path.

While Omani society is conservative by nature, with its citizens of both genders sporting a variety of native costumes and head coverings, I was advised that my Saudi-style abaya and hijab, carefully selected for my last trip to Arabia, would best be left at home this time. The formula for visitors’ attire, both male and female, in the sultanate was simple: modest, comfortable and loose-fitting, out of respect for local custom.

With visa formalities concluded and luggage carefully packed, husband David and I set out for Washington to participate in pre-departure briefings for two consecutive days at the offices of the NCUSAR. There, in addition to meeting our travel companions for the first time, we listened with rapt attention as a succession of scholars, diplomats, and even a recent U.S. Ambassador to Oman, took us on a “virtual tour” of the sultanate, offering new insights on the intricacies of its history, political dynamics, economic challenges and even cultural nuances.

By this time, with the excitement almost palpable, we were all eager to begin our adventure. And thus, after boarding a plane at Dulles airport for a brief stopover in London, we ascended into the skies once again aboard our Gulf Air jet to Oman. Following the flight path on the screen ahead was anything but routine as we flew over the embattled cities of Iraq whose familiar names are the stuff of daily headlines. Surely we were almost there, to a far more tranquil corner of that troubled region.

After an 18-hour trip, we arrived finally at our destination, Muscat, Oman’s capital. An ancient port in pre-Islamic times, natural harbors define this enchanting city. Geologists are invariably excited to view, rising dramatically behind the city, the barren and forbidding brown-black mountains of ophiolites, one of the most unusual rock formations on earth.

>From the early 1500s to 1650, Portugal, the greatest seafaring power of >the day, ruled over this capital city and much of present-day Oman. In >the 16th century, Alfonso de Albuquerque, a Portuguese commander, >wrote:

“Muscat is a very large and populous town, with fine, elegant houses, flanked on both sides with high mountains.”

The legacy of the Portuguese is everywhere evident in the capital. Multiple watchtowers are perched on hilltops surrounding the city while below, the Merani and Jalali forts stand as sentinels at Muscat harbor. Situated between these two colossi is the Royal Palace of Sultan Qaboos, an imposing building resplendent in rich and vibrant colors.

Our first morning in Oman found us meandering through the traditional souq (market) in coastal Mutrah, where we viewed wizened fishermen preparing their impressive catch for sale. In an adjacent area, greengrocers proudly displayed a colorful variety of local produce.

After an absence of more than 30 years, Muscat was, to my eyes, barely recognizable. Its transformation from the capital of Arabia’s poorest country to one of its most progressive was a constant source of wonder. New shopping centers, hotels, fast-food emporia, schools, clinics, hospitals, even an immense athletic stadium, dotted the landscape. What we saw was a thoroughly modern city.

Endless miles of paved roads, highways and interchanges, flanked with tiers of green, breathtaking foliage and flowering shrubbery, had been constructed, as if overnight. We observed that rush hour in today’s Muscat, as elsewhere, routinely tests the patience of local drivers, both men and women.

The pace of development in Oman has been staggering, not unlike that of its other Arabian neighbors. The new Oman, however, differs considerably from its neighbors in several respects. For example, royal decree directs that new construction in the sultanate must reflect traditional architectural style and motifs. The result is a pleasing continuity and authentic blend of style, height and materials.

Our schedule included several briefings in Muscat with high-level Omani and U.S. government officials, including the newly-appointed American ambassador and his staff.

Armed with fresh perspectives and new insights, we toured the city and environs. Visiting the Sultan’s Armed Forces Museum at Bayt al-Falaj, a 19th-century fort built as a summer residence for one of the most powerful sultans of all time, we marveled at the stunning exhibits illustrating important events in Oman’s long history.

At Bayt al-Zubayr’s museum of culture and history, we chatted with a group of schoolgirls out on a field trip. We were, it appeared, as interesting to them as the beautiful Omani handmade artifacts on display were to us.

While massive building projects have virtually transformed the Omani landscape in less than four decades, perhaps the most profound changes have occurred in the area of education.

In 1970, there were three governmental primary schools in the Sultanate. Total enrollment, never exceeding 1,000, was restricted to boys. There were no schools for girls.

Upon assuming power, the young, British-educated sultan declared:

“We will teach our children, even under trees.”

Education became the cornerstone of Oman’s national development policy. School construction began in earnest, with the government shouldering the responsibility of transporting students to schools, even in the most remote locales.

Today public education at every level, including higher education, is government-funded and free to Omani nationals. Oman’s Personal Status Laws guarantee females equal rights in both education and employment.

In 1986, Sultan Qaboos University, a co-educational institution, was opened. Admission to the national university is based on academic achievement and merit. With a current enrollment of approximately 15,000 students, women represent half of all undergraduates and 35 percent of the graduate students.

On the outskirts of the capital city, our delegation visited the sprawling campus of S.Q.U. There we engaged in frank and candid discussions with the head of the department of mass communication. En route to our appointment, we passed scores of students of both sexes, hurrying to class, socializing over snacks and listening to music. It might have been an American campus, save for the traditional, and very distinctive, Omani dress.

In Oman today, in addition to the public university, there are three private universities, 16 private colleges and several institutes for education, health, banking and industry.

Also beyond the city limits lies The Sultan’s School, a premier coeducational institution, founded by the regent himself. More than 1,000 students from pre-kindergarten to grade 12 receive a bilingual education of the highest international standards.

Whether pursuing an International Baccalaureate diploma or participating in the Model U.N. program, students at The Sultan’s School are required to devote considerable time and effort toward community service projects as they plan for careers in medicine, international business, law and engineering.

While few public healthcare facilities were in place prior to the current Omani renaissance, our NCUSAR delegation was privileged to meet two U.S. citizens whose names are revered throughout the sultanate.

In 1955, Dr. Donald Bosch, and his wife Eloise, traveled from the United States to Oman, under the auspices of the Dutch Reformed Church, to serve the people of that impoverished land. While Dr. Bosch practiced medicine, Mrs. Bosch, a teacher by training, assisted in myriad ways to improve the lives of those they met. They remained for more than half a century.

Their story is the stuff of legend. Imagine our excitement at the prospect of being invited to meet these two inspiring humanitarians. Before leaving Muscat, we were received for tea at their beautiful seaside home on the Gulf of Oman. This spacious residence, filled with precious memorabilia from their many decades in the country, was a gift from His Majesty, the Sultan, in appreciation for their unbroken years of service to his countrymen.

As Dr. and Mrs. Bosch, the quintessential “ambassadors of goodwill,” graciously and patiently answered a barrage of questions about their recollections of more than 50 years in Oman, we were struck by their gentle demeanor and self-effacing manner. As they spoke, we were filled with awe and deep respect. The Rotarian motto, “service above self,” never seemed so apt.

How gratifying it must be, we mused, for these two pioneers, who arrived in the sultanate in an era when operating by flashlight was the norm, to reflect on the astonishing improvements that have swept the country over the years.

Today, healthcare in the sultanate is universal and free to all citizens. Clinics and hospitals, featuring state-of-the-art medical technology, are omnipresent. In less than 40 years, the average life expectancy for the Omani citizen has jumped from 47 to 74 years.

Islam was introduced into Oman in the 7th century AD. Like its neighbors to the north and west, the Islamic ethos prevails. We were soon to discover, however, that within this country a quite different variation of that faith exists.

The majority of Oman’s citizens identify with the Ibadhi tradition of Islam, which is little known or understood in the West. Ibadhi Islam is a distinct variation of Islam. Neither Sunni nor Shi’a, it has its origins in an early Islamic school of thought.

Ibadhism is characterized by an emphasis on peaceful resolution of disputes as well as by its tolerance for other schools of religious thought, within Islam and beyond.

Indeed, religious tolerance is widespread and clearly evident in Oman.

While approximately 35 percent of its citizens identify as either Sunni or Shi’a Muslims, Hindu temples and Christian churches, erected on land contributed by the government, coexist with the omnipresent mosques.

In the context of Omani history and culture, tolerance of religious diversity can be explained, not only by the Ibadhi tradition, but also by centuries of seafaring interaction with diverse cultures from Indonesia to Africa.

Before leaving the capital area, our delegation spent a morning at the Sultan Qaboos Grand Mosque, the largest integrated mosque complex in the country. After six years in construction, this ambitious project was completed in 2001.

Inspired by traditional design, vaulted arches, graceful arcades, intricately carved wooden panels and screens and a series of marble-tiled courtyards lend a feeling of elegance and serenity to this monument to the faith.

The five minarets of the mosque complex represent the Five Pillars of Islam. The main prayer hall measures 75 by 75 meters, with a central dome rising 50 meters above. Its chandeliers of Swarovski crystal illuminate the fine hand-made Persian carpet below.

A major feature of the interior, this carpet, crafted as a single piece, covers the entire floor of the main prayer hall. Six hundred skilled women labored for four years to weave this exquisitely detailed, 21-ton masterpiece.

An amazing architectural achievement of magnificent proportion, the Sultan Qaboos Grand Mosque stands as a testament to the enduring faith of the Omani people.