Tag: architecture

In an earlier essay, I discussed how rooms were arranged:

Houseways: Comparisons – Types of Rooms and Sightlines

This essay is one of three related pieces about the interplay between behavior and space: how certain behaviors create a need for a certain kind of space (entryways), how a certain kind of space creates the need for certain behaviors (talking in the salle) and the intermix of house design and behavior (front doorways).

Several members of my family work in the fields of design and planning, so I grew up listening to a lot of talk about architectural details and the effective organization between and within buildings. A favorite mantra was: form follows function, meaning the purpose of the space determines the size and shape of the space.

This is a good way to start to think of entrances to houses. When I first visited Dhofari houses I was surprised by the large space near the front door that leads to the main hall. The foyers were empty and, to me, unnecessary. Kids did not use the area to play in, no one sat there, there was no furniture except perhaps a rectangular side table pushed against the wall with a mirror above it or nearby – just a large empty space that had to be air-conditioned.

After more visits, I started to see the purpose and began to be very grateful for the entrance space as a helpful liminal space between being public (outside where everyone could see me) and private (in the salle in view of women and children).

To aggregate several dozen experiences, when I arrive at a house, I wear a dhobe (loose, Dhofari housedress) which is covered by a “head ababyah” (a large, black polyester square that is pulled over the head and drapes to cover my body down to the knees). It is often worn for short distances, such as from car to inside house or between neighbors’ houses; some older women wear it while shopping.

If the front door is open, I call out to show that I am there, step into the foyer, take off “head ababyah” and put it in my purse, check that my lossi (headscarf) is covering my hair, then walk into the salle. If the door is locked, I ring the bell and when it is answered, there is usually one woman with a group of children behind her who have come to see who it is. The woman will welcome me, but not ask me questions, and shoo the children away. She will stay back a few feet and not give any pressure such as saying “everyone’s waiting for you!” as I check that I am ready to go into the salle. When I start to move, she will walk to the opening of the salle with me and sit in her place. Once in the salle, all eyes will turn to me and there are sometimes questions and explanations as to who I am as I walk in a circle, greeting each woman and shaking her hand, then I find a place to sit and get ready to talk.

The large, empty foyer uses gives me the chance to move from outside presentation (shapeless black figure) to inside (still shapeless but brightly colored). I can check my hair and lipstick, smooth down my dhobe and get ready to be part of the conversation. Even if there is a wedding party with over 50 women in the house, the foyer is empty and women who are further down the hallway will not come to say “hello,” until I have moved away from the door area.

The area makes me think of texts from the 1800s and 1900s in which there are depictions of women going into a small dressing room to take off their wraps and change into dancing shoes such as Katherine Mansfield’s “Her First Ball.” It’s public, women in the hallway can see me and sometimes children stand nearby, but also private in that I am not expected to make small talk or answer questions.

When I leave the house, the space again is useful as, after I say my goodbyes, step out of the salle and into the foyer, I have a moment to get my “head ababyah” back on, check my phone and get out my car keys. Perhaps my friend will come stand with me, to walk to the portico with me to wave goodbye, but the talk is easy: “say hello to your mother for me” and “I hope you have a nice weekend” sort of phrases.

At the end of a wedding party, there might be several women standing near the door waiting for a car to drive them home, but there is plenty of space even with children running about. And there are no expectations of doing formal greetings; when I walk into the foyer, I don’t have to say ‘hello’ to each woman. We see each other and shift to give room for whoever is leaving to get to the door, but we don’t have to interact.

Thus, it’s a space that is used only for a few moments of time several times during the day but is necessary given common Dhofar behaviors. A large foyer is needed not because there are usually more than five small children living in one house, but the fact that children love to run to the door when someone knocks (or are sent to see who it is) and often stand near the door to look at a person arriving or leaving.

As children like to be together, they might all gather in the entrance way when school age children are leaving. Mini-vans/buses come into or next to the hosh as children don’t usually walk to and wait at a bus stop since it is often very hot. With a large foyer, there is space for the mom, the children who are going to school and young children to all wait inside where it is cool. Or the space can be used by a group of sisters waiting for a car to take them shopping or visiting relatives so they don’t have to stand outside the house in view of the neighborhood.

[There is a difference between houses in towns and in the countryside, as rural houses usually have a dekka, seating area in the front or side of the house which means you are on display as soon as you leave the car.]

(photo above: mirror in entry way; photo below: mirror in entry way to the left, ahead to the left is entry to salle, ahead to the right is doorway of short hall leading to majlis – both photos taken by informants and used with permission)

Upper-class, English, Victorian-era homes had a set of rooms for children which would include a day nursery, night nursery, schoolroom, bathroom and the nanny’s room. In present-day America, a middle-class child might play on the kitchen floor while a parent is cooking, do homework on the dining room table, watch TV in a basement rec room, sit by the fire in a den or study, i.e. sit in different rooms for different purposes during one day.

Whereas young Dhofari children spend most of their in-door time in their parent’s bedroom and the salle. When they are close to puberty they will move to their own bedroom or a room with several children who are the same gender and around the same age. Children are only in the majlis in the presence of adults and for a reason, for example an uncle is visiting or they are working with a tutor.

Dhofari children spend a lot of their free time out of the house once they can walk: in the hosh if younger than 3 or 4, then in front/ near house, then within the neighborhood in mixed gender/ mixed age groups until close to puberty. They also know the salle or majlis of many houses (grandparents, uncles/ aunts and older siblings) but will usually not play/ hang out in a cousin’s bedroom, although they might sleep there if it is an overnight visit. Children sleeping over at relatives’ houses is common, even among families which live close to each other. For example, when one female Dhofari friend was sick, she sent her child to stay for two weeks with her parents who live nearby.

As children grow older, they experience the same house differently as the use of rooms is linked to both gender and age. For example, a Gibali girl visiting her paternal uncle’s house: as a baby she might be taken into the majlis by her father who is holding her; as a five-year old, she might spend the visit playing outside with male and female cousins; as a 14 year old, she might sit in the salle with her mom and older sisters. If she marries a cousin from this family, she will be expected to go into the majlis when there are visitors to bring tea and, perhaps, sit and visit.

Further, men experience houses differently according to what his relationship is with the house owners. A boy will spend time in the salle of relatives’ houses when young and the majlis when older but there are many variables. For example, a 25-year-old Gibali man with three sisters (A, B and C) would have different visiting patterns depending on who owns/ controls the house that the sister lives in. He visits sister A in her salle because A and her husband own their own home and visits sister B in her salle because B married a cousin, thus the other women in the salle are his relatives. But he visits sister C in the majlis because C lives in her husband’s father’s home who are not relatives, so the salle is for C’s mother- and sisters-in-law.

In a similar way, a married man who visits his wife when she is at her parent’s house might sit in the salle (if he is closely related to her family) or the majlis (if he is not). As most Dhofari women stay with their mother or an older sister for 40 days after the birth of their first child, a husband’s behavior is on display. All the female relatives of the new mother will know how often he visits, how long he stays and what he brings with him. This information is passed on to the general community, for example when a general question such as “how is the new mom doing?” is answered with, “fine, alhamdulillah, and her husband came every day to visit in the majlis,” his reputation (and the reputation of his family) is increased. This is a man who respects his wife and takes his responsibilities seriously. When the sister of one friend had her first baby, the family tried not to use the majlis at certain times so the husband could visit his wife and baby in privacy.

(photo of majlis by informant, used with permission)

I think of Dhofari houses as the antithesis of expensive Victorian-era houses with all those little rooms with separate purposes: the morning room, the seamstress’ room, billiard room, the music room, the library etc. In Dhofari houses, there are usually only four types of rooms: sitting room, bedroom, kitchen and bathroom. The first three types are furnished with the same pattern of empty space in the middle: the majlis/ salle with stuffed chairs and sofas around the walls with coffee tables next to them and an open space in the middle; the bedroom with the bed and cupboards/ dressers against the walls and open space in the middle of the room and kitchens with counters set around the walls. Furthermore, all rooms are built square or rectangular; there are no nooks or closets. Books, dishes, clothes, beddings, etc. are stored in pieces of furniture that are placed next to a wall. Dining and kitchen tables are placed close to one wall or where two walls meet. To look at this from a child’s perspective, while playing hide-and-go-seek, kids can’t hide in closets or behind furniture. The only places to hide are behind doors or inside kitchen cabinets/ bedroom clothes cupboards.

The effect of this pattern in that when you walk into a room, you can see everyone and everything immediately. I believe the reason for this pattern is that when Gibalis sit together, they always try to keep everyone in the group in view. Men sitting on sofas placed next to the walls in a majlis are a mirror image of men sitting on a mat near a fire for a picnic. One way to keep a more rounded shape in a square or rectangular room is that instead of sectional sofas meeting at a 90 corner angles, either the corner section is angled, or an arm rest is placed at the corner (see examples below).

Further, hallways in Dhofar are much wider than the arm span. Thus, although houses aren’t built ‘open plan,’ from certain vantage points, you can see many different spaces. Standing in the main ground-floor hallway, one can usually see the front door, the entrance to the kitchen, the main stairs and into the salle. From the top of the stairs one can usually see down to the main ground-floor hallway, the open space (sometimes used as a salle) at the top of the stairs and the doors to most or all of the first-floor bedrooms.

A North American house might have a “great room” with a combined kitchen, dining area and sitting area, but normally this is not in sight of the front door. Whereas in a Dhofari house, an older female relative who sits in the salle will see every person who comes in or leaves unless they leave by the kitchen door.

Another way to think about types of rooms is to consider that many middle- and upper-class North American homes have rooms for work, relaxation and/ or exercise such as a home office, craft room, gym, yoga studio. etc. which might be the former bedroom of a child who has moved out. There is a standard trope of a child going to college and his/ her room ‘disappears’ as it has been entirely repurposed.

Whereas in Dhofar, while the people who stay in a room might change, the purpose seldom does. For example, three boys might share a bedroom on the ground floor. In time, an additional story is added and two boys move to an upstairs bedroom while the original room is redone for the oldest boy and his bride. After this couple have a few children, they move to a suite on the first floor and the room is refurbished for a grandparent who cannot manage to walk up stairs.

One consequence of these building and furnishing conventions is that for some Dhofaris, “privacy” refers to their personal thoughts and emotions as they are almost always in actual or potential sight of other people when in a house. Privacy might never be found in a bedroom as children might share a room (once close to puberty, in single gender groups) and young children stay with their parents.

Another consequence is the Dhofari ability to have secret conversations in front of other people. In American families, there can be family-only codes such as saying, “FHB” (family hold back) at a party, meaning there might not be enough food so family should eat less so the guests can have as much as they want. Or an older person raising their eyebrows, opening their eyes widely and staring at a person to show dissatisfaction with inappropriate behavior but it is more common for family members simply to make verbal requests/ demands in front of visitors.

In Dhofar, having a large salle with a perfect view of every person combined with the need to always show a calm and positive expression means it more usual for older relatives to direct younger people with quick eye movements (such as looking at the AC unit to tell someone to make the room cooler) or hand gestures. When I taught a class on culture and asked students to come up with examples of non-verbal communication, many explained the signals for “bring fresh tea” and “bring more food” that older siblings and parents used. Several times at weddings, I have sat next to a woman who was part of the hosting family and a sister would come over to, almost inaudibly, ask a question or give information. The two would discuss hosting emergencies (not enough food, the bride will arrive very late, etc.) with no visible sign of agitation so that the dozens of women who could see them have no idea that there is a problem.  

A note on bathrooms: Bathrooms are almost always ‘dead-end.’ I have seen only one example of a ‘pass-through’ bathroom with two entrances in a house built before 2000. They are usually rectangular and built with the narrow end on an outside wall or lightwell to allow for the window and extractor fan. They are usually set up with an open design (e.g. no interior walls such as a low partition to screen the toilet) with a pedestal sink or sink on a counter with empty space beneath and a shelving unit next to the wall. The sink is always closest to the door. The shower area usually does not have a curtain and is marked off with a slightly lowered floor with a drain. Some have tiled steps along one side. Bathtubs are rare; if there is one, it usually has a seat. The steps and seat are for the ritual washing before prayers during which face, hands and feet must be cleaned.

The door to a guest bathroom that is attached to or near the majlis and salle often opens to a space with one or more sinks, then another inner door leads to a small room with a toilet, shower and sink so that guests might wash their hands while the toilet/ shower room is in use. (see example below)

Bathrooms in the family/ private area of the house are built open-plan for one person to use at a time, unless it is a parent helping a small child (see example below). Some North American bathrooms are set up with the toilet half-hidden behind a low wall and shower curtains so that two people might use the room at the same time but I have not heard of that in Dhofar.

examples of majlis/ salle designed to create circular seating pattern in square room

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examples of bathrooms

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Over the last twenty years or so, the predominate style for living and bedroom windows is 2 or 3 panel, lift-out, sliding windows placed about 1 meter from the floor with the window either single pane or divided. Usually the window itself is rectangular (for example height of 110 cm and width of 120 cm) with an inset plastered/ painted arched niche or an arched fanlight above (for example with height of 45 cm, see note about arches below).

In the last few years, there is a greater mix of styles. While some houses continue to have arched windows, square windows, large picture windows and/ or an entire wall (one or more stories high) of windows are more common. In particular, rental houses often have floor to ceiling windows with sliding glass or French doors. Bay and bow windows are rare.

Most windows are reflective – either because the glass itself has been treated while being made or a thin reflective film was put on. This is done to cut cooling costs as it means less direct sunlight enters a room; it also means windows are difficult or impossible to see through during a sunny day but that is less important as most windows are completely covered with drapes/ curtains [see:  Houseways – Windows/ Sightlines]

Kitchen windows are usually smaller (for example, 1m x 80cm) and set above the sink. Bathroom windows are smaller still (for example 65cm x 50cm). Both have opaque glass and sometimes there is a small fan incorporated into the window space or the arched fan light. Both rooms might have 2-panel, lift-out sliding windows or hopper [the top of the window inclines inward]; awning [the bottom of the window inclines outward] is less common. (see below for examples)

Sometimes windows are incorporated into the front door frame: either as transom/ fan lights above the doors and/ or as thin windows on either side of the door. These windows are opaque, perhaps made of translucent glass blocks or colored with real stained glass or a plastic, press-on designs that looks like stained glass. (see above for example)

Window frames are metal, usually 3 to 5m wide and, as can be expected when fitting arched windows in metal frames into cement block buildings, there are often thin gaps which let in wind, sand and rain. As windows are often completely covered with curtains/ drapes, wind and sand is not that much of a problem, although drifts of sand appear on the floor during sandstorms. For rainstorms, some Dhofaris take the preventative option and nail plastic sheeting over windows; some simply move furniture and rugs away from the window and mop up the water.

Ground floor windows are usually barred to prevent opportunistic pilfering rather than pre-planned intent to harm and to keep track of inhabitants. There might be a perception that windows are barred to monitor females but if a female is going to have an illicit meeting, a man coming to her house or her leaving her house would be stupidly dangerous. There would be no possible justification for her being out of the house and several Gibali men have told me that they have the right to kill any man who is in their house at night.

Also, the control is in force for boys as well as girls, albeit with different consequences. I have heard of many cases of boys being given a curfew and if they come late, they have to sleep in the majlis or a relative’s house unless a sister can get a door or window open for them to sneak in.

To me, barred windows can seem at odds with the fact that doors are usually open during the day, and sometimes only locked to keep small children from leaving. I read this as a perception switch from what I call welcoming house when inhabitants are awake and moving (majlis and front door are often open) to fortress house when the inhabitants are sleeping and, while perhaps the majlis door is open, the door from the majlis to rest of the house, all house doors and all bedroom doors are locked.

To look at this issue another way, I have not seen doors with ‘peep-holes’ in them. If someone knocks, you open the door. If some of the research guys stop by unexpectedly and knock, if I ask, “Who’s there?” they will refuse to answer and pound on the door. The first time this happened I was very scared, but I had the presence of mind to run to the window to look at the place for parking. I saw a few cars and recognized one, so I answered the door and got a lot of comments about my rudeness. When I tried to explain that I was afraid, I was told there was nothing to be afraid of. In the same way, if I get a call on my phone from an unknown number, the research guys encourage me to answer. There is nothing to fear from another person who is in front of your house or on the phone, i.e. communicating with you while you are awake. The necessity of trusting yourself, being polite to guests and the implied, ever-present available backup of living in a house with over 30 people, means that having an open door or opening a door to a stranger is considered safe. The danger is what might happen when you are sleeping; when you and your family are not able to see/ assess a possible threat, hence, locked doors and barred windows.

A note on arches:

more common: flat arch / French arch, nested, ogee, “oriental,” lancet, segmental, trefoil (Gothic), Tudor. Some have a flat lintel with a relieving arch [in brick houses this would be a pattern created by bricks angled on the vertical; in Dhofari houses, the arch pattern is created by plaster- or tile-work, unrelated to structural support]; occasionally used: onion, Venetian

less common: art nouveau (non-symmetrical), draped, horseshoe (Syrian), inflexed, keyhole, parabolic; in general, window and door arches do not curve inwards, nor are the sides narrower than the maximum span (width of arch), i.e. the arch usually connects to the sides seamlessly, without a large differential of size.

Examples of kitchen windows – photos by myself or informants, used with permission

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Examples of bathroom windows – photos by myself

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Example of ground-floor barred window – photo by Onaiza Shaikh