It is either entirely natural, or in bad taste, that I spent a lot of my free time in malls, depending on how you look at it. Yes, these malls are chock full of American and “high street” stores, as the Brits say. But I spent my evenings and weekends trying to entertain myself without seeing terrible scenes involving cats, and the malls are the number one place where I could avoid the sight of dozens of poor creatures whom I could not help. There must be cats at the malls, but I bet they’re at the loading docks and garbage dumpsters in the back. At the malls all of that is hidden from sight, and that’s what I needed to cowardly assuage my conscience.
My favorite Muscat malls are Oman Avenues and the Grand Mall, which are adjacent to each other just off of Sultan Qaboos street. Frankly, the American and high street influence in these malls is not super deep. Yes, there’s a giant H&M in the Avenues, and there’s an Aeropostale in the Grand Mall. And both are anchored by a surprisingly large range of Anglo-American coffee joints (from the predictable Starbucks and Costa on down to Caribou, Gloria Jean, and Tim Horton for the Canadians) as well as the usual, extremely popular fast food places (McD’s, KFC—the crowd favorite, from what I hear—the ubiquitous Subway, Pizza Hut, and so on).
But these malls have a lived-in feeling. Though I have been to Oman only in the winter time, I imagine, with dread, what the summer must be like, and the industrial-strength AC of the malls, and the space they provide to walk in, must be deeply welcome. Each of these malls has a massive department store either in addition to or as part of a giant grocery store, too—a Walmart Super Store on steroids. People do not shop online much here (part of it must be that the street numbering system in Oman is seriously dodgy and delivery would be rough), so the stores stock an incredibly wide selection of things. You can seriously find just about anything in these malls, at just about every price point as well. I was really tempted by a 1.5 R.O. sports bra, but you can also buy your daughter’s dowry at the gold shops. The incredible, seething, insatiable variety of these malls makes them almost immune to the homogenizing impulse of American capitalism.
This sense of infinite variation is really different from what happens at American malls (or, the outdoor shopping centers that have replaced the 80s-style enclosed mall, whose abandoned remains are now the setting for the squatters and drug dealers of Gone Girl). At an Omani mall you can go from the sari shop to the abaya shop to the date-and-honey store to the gold souk to the grocery store to H&M and Skechers. At a contemporary American shopping center you can go from Old Navy to the Gap to Banana Republic, all literally owned by the same company and offering almost indistinguishable versions of the same khaki pants.