“You never know. Maybe I’ll need a fixer!”
The two women laughed, their arms flying around each other for a warm embrace.
“I’ll miss you, Rachel.”
Rachel wiped her eye with the back of her sleeve. “Yeah. Likewise.”
“Have a safe journey.”
“And you as well, my friend. Wherever it takes you.”
Rachel settled into the window seat with her phone as she waited for the plane to begin taxiing. Already there was a selfie from Ariana, sent from Hani’s phone, the two of them grinning into the lens from the front seat of his car. Rachel reversed the direction of her own phone’s camera and stuck her tongue out in response. Then she turned her attention to her work.
Maggie—she texted to her friend in New York. Leaving Oman. Assignment was an epic fail. Sorry.
Rachel accepted a glass of wine from the flight attendant and took a hearty sip. On the other side of the little window the sky was splattered with stars, each one glimmering like a tiny pinhole leading to the promise of another, brighter universe.
But, she added in a second message, I do have a whole other story, a very different one, that you just might be interested in instead. xoxoR
A Q&A with Deborah Rodriguez (contains spoilers)
Your first two novels were either fully or partly set in Afghanistan. Why did you choose Oman as a new location for this novel?
I was preparing for a trip to Dubai when I began to wonder why, after so many trips to the Gulf region, I had never visited Oman. That’s when I decided to do some research to see if it might be a good holiday spot. Straight away, the country came alive for me. I was drawn in to the amazing history and intriguing geography, and wondered how this country seemed to stay off the radar while so much was happening all around it. That’s when the holiday trip became a research trip. My head began to spin ideas of different storylines with the backdrop of Oman. What really sealed the deal for me was when I read that the town of Bahla, in Oman, was named by National Geographic as one of the ten most haunted places in the world. I was certain that this country would be the perfect place for a book.
How did Zanzibar come into your story?
On my first visit to Oman my driver kept saying things like, My father and his Zanzibar wife did this, or I can’t wait to go to Zanzibar this summer to visit my family and do that. First, I asked him, “How many wives does your father have in Zanzibar?” His reply was, “Only one, right now.”
Next I asked why his family was in Zanzibar. It was then I learned that in 1698 Zanzibar fell under the control of the Sultanate of Oman. So today Zanzibar still is the ancestral home to many Omanis, and the two countries have a very strong connection. I loved how the exotic spice island seemed to be the perfect yin to Oman’s majestic yang. The two places are such a good fit, and felt like the perfect combination from which to weave a tale.
Oman and Zanzibar are new settings for you, yet they completely come alive on the page. What research did you undertake to write this novel?
Research can be fun, crazy, and this time a bit out of my comfort zone. I began by searching for the homes that my characters would live in, the roads they would walk on, the foods they would eat, but I also knew that, for this book, I had to search out the magic in both Zanzibar and Oman. It’s easy to say, Yep, doing some research, going to try to find the magic. But trust me, it’s not that easy, and it definitely can’t be found in the travel brochures. I tried my hardest to reach out to people online, to try to arrange meetings, but I was either turned away or the email threads came to a halt when I tried to talk about magic.
I think one of the reasons the story feels so real is that much of it is real. I have a difficult time creating a story unless I have experienced the majority of it first-hand. For example, once the basic idea of the book was born, I traveled to Oman to make sure the storyline could actually work in this location. Pages were written, and the book was on its way. Now it was time for the second trip, the trip to get all the important details. I wanted to trace the footsteps of the main characters, so that I could see what they saw, feel what they felt, and possibly understand the fear they faced. I wanted this book to tell a story, but to be as real as it possibly could.
I wasn’t in Oman long before I could tell that the book was taking on a life of its own. It honestly felt like something was guiding me, that the story wanted to be told. It’s amazing what you can learn when you listen to the universe and follow the clues in front of you. There was definitely something supernatural that happened in Bahla, and I do not have an explanation for it. I wasn’t looking for a ghost story—what I did want to understand was what they meant by magic. I have to tell you, there was a moment when I did begin to question myself, and wondered how far I would actually go to get the story.
What was it that you found most surprising about these two places?
With Oman, I think I was surprised most by the incredible natural beauty. Muscat is a wonderful city, but the moment you leave the city and enter the mountain area it’s unbelievably stunning. I had also heard that the Omanis were some of the friendliest people on the planet, but thought that was a pretty broad statement. But seriously? OMG. They are the kindest, gentlest and friendliest people on the planet.
Zanzibar, what can I say … the name sounds exotic, and the place truly is. I loved the flavor of the old spice trade, the ancient seaweed ladies, the clear blue beaches, and the old, winding streets of Stone Town. I felt like I was going back and forth between a holiday postcard and National Geographic magazine. I don’t say this lightly, but it was one of those places that made me think, I could live here.
Are there any personal experiences you had in either of these two places that are reflected in the novel?
There was one experience that happened in Bahla that to this day kind of scares me to think about. My research partner, Ellen, and I were heading off to Bahla, hot on the trail of the magic. I had read that Bahla was the birthplace of the jinn, and that a lot of magic happened there. After hitting a lot of dead ends, we were finally told to go to the old souk in the center of the town and talk to the man who has the shop in front of the large tree. He will be the only one who can assist you, they said. So off we went and found the man in the small shop in front of the tree. His was the only stall open, as it was nearing lunch time. After introducing ourselves and telling him that we were there doing research on the “folklore” of Bahla, I just blurted out, “Are you the man who does the magic?” He didn’t even flinch; he calmly offered us dates, poured us a coffee and said, “Yes.” When I asked him if he would answer my questions, he agreed, but insisted we join him and his family for lunch. He politely told our driver to leave, assuring us that his son would make sure we got back to our hotel in Nizwa.
Now, remember, we were in a mountain village in what is considered to be one of the most haunted places in the world. Ellen and I looked at each other, both trying to figure out if we should simply bolt back to the car before our driver disappeared and head back to Nizwa before we both turned into goats or something. But we didn’t run. Instead, we went to the magic man’s house for lunch.
While eating grapes and apple slices, the man turned his focus on me, and began telling me all these things about myself. He knew of my past marriages, and was certain that someone had performed black magic on me in the past, which was causing me to not sleep and to have vivid dreams. It’s true, I don’t sleep well and my dreams are like movies. And I had always wondered about a time in Afghanistan when I found a lock of my hair, some nail clippings, and some odd looking writing I did not understand hidden in my salon. When my cleaning ladies found these hidden items in a glasses case, the salon was in an uproar. Water was poured over the writing, and I was taken to some guy who read my palms. I had no idea what he saw, as I didn’t have enough command of the language. But I could hear the staff whispering about this for days, and acting as if I were going to drop dead on the spot or burst into flames. I really never t
hought about it much again until that day with the magic man in Bahla, who seemed to already know about this event. He told me that someone close to me had been trying to harm me and my family. Looking back, maybe I should have taken what happened in Afghanistan more seriously.
After the meal the magic man casually asked if I wanted it removed. I didn’t know if “it” meant a jinn or what. I didn’t know what to think. I looked at Ellen and thought, shit. This is not what I signed up for. It’s just a book! How did it get to the point where I was going to have something removed from me? At the time it felt like I was going to be donating a kidney or something. I was afraid. Did I really want this? And then I thought that even if I did have a jinn, I was very comfortable with it, and we seemed to get along very well, and I really wasn’t certain if I believed in all this hocus-pocus, and what have I gotten myself into anyway? Ellen looked at me and said, “Deb, you really don’t have to do this.” I was definitely not keen on having what sounded like some sort of exorcism ritual being performed on me, but, I reminded myself, this entire trip I’d been looking for the magic, and here it was, right in front of me. How could I pass up the opportunity? So I told Ellen not to leave me alone for one minute, to take notes and pictures. She assured me that she wasn’t about to go anywhere, and she stayed to witness the magic, just like Ariana did.
Did something happen to me in the house at the lunch with the magic man? I believe it did. Do I feel any differently since all this took place? Well, I do feel that we should never think we are alone on this earth. I do feel like I was touched by something powerful. Is my life perfect after my big event? No, but who wants a perfect life anyway?
On a totally different note, it appears that you can’t go two feet without running into a gigolo in Zanzibar.
Are any of the characters in this story based on people you met in your travels?
No one is safe from being a part of one of my books. When I start taking notes over dinner, you’re most likely being auditioned for a part in a book. I think all my characters start out as real people, then morph into a final character who is sometimes someone very different. In this book, Ariana was greatly inspired by one of my dearest friends. I would visit her as often as I could when passing through Dubai. I loved how the real Ariana and I could one minute be shopping in the world’s largest mall, and the next minute she’d fling her clothes into my dressing room and say, “I’ll be back in seven minutes, I need to pray.” I found it impressive that no matter where she was or who she was with, she always took the time to pray. I admired her commitment.
Kanu, now referred to as my favorite gigolo, was very real and did help me find the magic in Zanzibar. Okay, people, minds out of the gutter: not that kind of magic! I paid him to keep his clothes on while in search of voodoo and witch doctors.
My real driver in Oman was as kind and funny as the driver in the book. It was because of him that the book got the title of The Zanzibar Wife. And my real-life magic man and Hani’s father are one and the same. His family is so incredible. I still text them at least once a week. This guy was one very amazing, and very kind, man.
The strapline on the book cover is ‘With a little magic, anything is possible’—have you had any experiences that you can’t explain? Do you believe there are forces at work we don’t necessarily understand?
I think that miracles are happening around us all the time. I don’t think it hurts to believe in a little magic.
Your novels feature women who—despite different backgrounds and cultures—come together to help and understand each other. An important theme, particularly in the world today?
I enjoy different cultures, traditions, and religions, and love how we are all different yet very much the same. Life is so full of color because of these differences. It’s all about respect, and realizing that different is good, and we really all need to stick together. It’s about every little girl being able to have the right to dream big. I love a quote by Ellen Johnson Sirleaf, the first elected female head of state in Africa. She said, “If your dreams don’t scare you, they are not big enough.”
Some ideas for your reading group party
Reading group questions
1. When we first meet Rachel and Ariana, they both appear to be stuck at a low point in their lives. How did their attitudes and beliefs seem to change over the ten days they spent in Oman and Zanzibar?
2. What do you think influenced those changes most?
3. How did the two women influence each other?
4. Miza is living the life of a second wife. What are your thoughts on the nature of a polygamous society?
5. Faith and destiny are strong themes in this novel. Discuss.
6. Have you experienced things in your own life that can’t be explained?
7. Have you or anyone you know ever sought advice from a non-traditional source, such as a fortune-teller or a healer?
8. Is there anything about the setting of Oman that was surprising to you?
9. The cultural mores in relationships between men and women in these three women’s lives vary greatly. Discuss.
10. Imagine the lives of the three women following the close of this story.
Some delicious dishes to share
The ‘real’ Spice Island spice cake
By Vanessa Arena, www.olivesandlucinda.com
To make this cake I have adapted a basic sponge recipe by introducing soft brown sugar in place of a proportion of the usual superfine (caster) sugar. The balance is designed to give the cake a nice, rich and grainy brown-sugar appearance, while still keeping the mixture sponge-like and light in texture. With regards to the amount of spice you might wish to add, the amounts I suggest here give a good flavor, but this is using reasonably fresh spices. If yours have been sitting in the cupboard for a while, perhaps consider using a little more. This cake stores very well, and will taste fresh for up to five days after it is made if kept in an airtight container.
6 ounces (170 grams) butter, cubed and at room temperature
3 ½ ounces (100 grams) soft brown sugar
2 ½ ounces (70 grams) superfine (caster) sugar
3 free-range eggs
6 ounces (170 grams) self-rising (self-raising) flour
2 teaspoons baking powder
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
½ teaspoon cloves
2 cardamom pods
1 vanilla pod
3 tablespoons of milk
Preheat the oven to 350 degrees Fahrenheit (180 degrees Celsius) and line a loaf tin with baking parchment. I do this by cutting a rectangle just as wide as the base of the tin, but longer than you need to cover the base and long sides, so that there is a parchment overhang of approximately 2 inches (5 centimetres) over each long side of the tin. When you come to lift the cake out, the overhanging sections can serve as handles. Not having to line the ends of the tin with paper saves time and the problem of having to fold or cut the paper to fit—instead, a small amount of butter to grease the exposed ends of the tin will suffice.
Cream together the butter and both sugars in a large bowl using an electric mixer, until pale and fluffy. Add the eggs, one at a time, mixing to fully incorporate after each addition. Sift in the self-rising flour and baking powder. Gently mix everything together until the flour is fully incorporated. (The mixture should be soft but quite thick at this stage.)
Using a mortar and pestle, grind the whole cloves to a fine powder. Remove the cardamom seeds from their pods by splitting the pod open at the bottom and popping the black seeds out. Discard the empty pods and add the seeds to the ground cloves in the mortar and pestle, continuing to grind until these are also reduced to a fine powder. On a clean cutting board, make an incision along the length of the vanilla pod, and, using a small knife, scrape the black seeds from inside the pod. Add the vanilla seeds to the cake batter, along with the ground cloves and cardamom, and the ground cinnamon.
Add the milk to loosen the batter slightly, and mix gently until the spices are distribut
ed and the milk is incorporated.
Pour into the prepared tin, and bake for 35 minutes or until the cake has begun to come away from the tin at the sides.
Cool slightly on a wire rack before serving warm, with some ice cream for dessert, or enjoy with tea in the afternoon.
Ginger beef samosas
By Vanessa Arena, www.olivesandlucinda.com
Though I’ve used the familiar name ‘samosas’ to describe these meat-filled triangles, in Zanzibar they are more likely to be called ‘sambusas’, an amalgam of the Arabic term ‘sambousek’ and the Indian ‘samosa’. Either way, the outcome is an entirely addictive little deep-fried parcel of spicy meat that it is almost impossible not to eat too many of.
If my experience is anything to go by, samosas seem to be a bit of a Zanzibari staple. They are available everywhere (with a special commendation to the selection at the airport departures lounge), are offered with an incredible array of fillings, and are usually accompanied by a large choice of sauces. My favorite sauce may have been the hot pili pili mbuzi, a local fluoro-green concoction in a Tabasco-style bottle. Lime pickle is also delicious on the side, as is green mango chutney, or, of course, the classic mint yogurt sauce. Each has its own merits, so perhaps it’s better not to restrict your options and to set up a little condiment buffet to go with your samosas.
Makes approximately 24 medium-sized samosas
For the samosas:
1 pound 7 ounces (650 grams) ground (minced) beef
4 tablespoons sunflower or canola oil
The Zanzibar Wife Page 25