Photography by Michelle Shelby

They were the Queens of the Desert, these Bedouin women adorned with the most exquisite silver jewellery, who travelled the barren deserts of Arabia with caravans of camels and goats. How magnificent they must have looked – out there in one of the most desolate regions of the world – in their loose flowing garments and larger-than-life silver ornaments.

To the Bedouin woman, her silver was much more than decoration; it was a bank account, insurance policy and emergency fund all in one. Because one never knew what the future might hold – even if the family could reach the next oasis before the water carried in goatskin bags ran out, your husband might decide to divorce you. But the woman always had her jewellery, which according to the unwritten rules of the desert stayed hers, and had to be melted down after her death.

A woman’s jewellery was also a status symbol, the showcase for her family’s wealth. Family honour is deeply embedded in Omani culture. The saying “My brothers and I against the cousins, then my cousins and I against strangers,” had a literal meaning. For many centuries tribal wars were furiously fought with families sticking together in hard times. Even in modern-day Oman, the family’s honour is of utmost importance and will be protected at any cost.

To really appreciate Omani silver, one has to understand where it comes from. The Bedouins were nomads who, in summer temperatures of 50°C and more, criss-crossed the desert with their livestock, in search of water and grazing. Their worldly possessions had to fit on the back of a camel and the number of camels and goats, as well as the size of the womenfolk’s ornaments, determined the family’s social standing.

The only protection against the elements was tents, made from the wool and hair of goats and camels. The tents kept them warm in winter and cool in summer. Around noon when the sun became a killer, the back and sides were rolled up to let the breeze through. Camels were precious as they provided milk and transport, but could carry little more than the tents and necessary utensils. It was therefore up to the woman to wear her jewellery on the journey through the desert landscape.

The jewellery consequently had to be functional as well as decorative. I only realized how practical these pieces really were on one hot summer’s day in Sinaw, a small town on the border of the Empty Quarters. Squatting in the shade of a ghaf tree, I chatted with some Bedouin women. It took a while for them to open up, but once they established through Halima, my interpreter, that I wouldn’t take pictures, she could hardly keep up translating the chatter.

“The jingling of the anklets and bells on the bracelets warned the menfolk off in the desert. Remember, the tents had no toilets,” the eldest of the group joked. A young pregnant girl, with a baby on her lap, remembered her grandmother’s stories: “She had one baby after the other and always carried the youngest on her back in a sling. The sling was attached to her silver headdress – a bonnet with a beautifully decorated support across the forehead.”

My new friends under the ghaf trees all wore gold jewellery, for silver has gone out of fashion. Most of them, however, had a silver kohl pot and a tiny pencil, about the size of an old-fashioned darning needle. Some even had silver tweezers and perfume vials. “Our mothers carried these on a silver belt,” another said. “It was their handbag in the olden days, leaving the hands free for work.”

Every Bedouin – men, women and babies – wore kohl not only as make-up and as protection against dust, but to ward off the drea-ded evil eye. Traditionally kohl was made from the ash of the frankincense tree and animal fat.

A wrinkled old woman fished her kohl pot somewhere out of the folds of her abaya and firmly took hold of my face. Two swift strokes later, my makeup was enhanced. Thoughts of infections and eventual blindness raced through my mind as I backed off. Normally quite sceptical of superstitions, I found myself praying that kohl would live up to its presumed power and protect me from … well, the ill effects of kohl. Scientists today allege that homemade kohl contains dangerous quantities of lead, which can damage the eyes.

Bedouin jewellery above all reflected the desert people’s deep commitment to Islam. In Bahla souq a silversmith, who confessed to have long forgotten his eightieth birthday, took a bundle wrapped in a dirty cloth and spread it open on the floor of his pint-sized cubicle. He lifted a tiny silver box with little trinkets on chains. “This is a hirz and was usually given to a little girl by her father. In this box she carried a verse from the Qur’an next to her heart.”

He picked up another piece. “These are the Hands of Fatima, the prophet’s daughter and the protector of women. She helped Hagar and her son Ismail in the desert after Abraham left them there to die without water.” The old man looked at me with watery-blue eyes, “All of these were sold by Bedouin women who needed money to buy new clothes before Eid. Eid is to us Muslims what Christmas is to Christians. The women were sad to part with it, but what could they do?”

Later in Muscat I discovered that poverty has many faces. A young jeweller gave a different perspective on poverty. “Marriage is very important in Omani culture. Jewellery is part of the bride’s dowry; it signifies the family’s social standing and honour. Unfortunately silver is no longer fashionable and the modern bride wants gold.” She smiled knowingly. “Few people can afford gold though, and they come to me for help. I use silver pieces and plate it in gold. No one knows. The wedding is a triumph for the bride’s family and everybody is happy.”

Silver was the preferred metal for many centuries though. It is believed to have calming and healing power; the ‘pure metal from heaven,’ as a dealer at Muttrah souq described it. Thousands of Maria Theresa coins were melted for this purpose. Amber, coral and turquoise bring luck, fertility and protect the wearer, consequently they were often used to decorate necklaces. It is not unusual to find coloured glass, pieces of bones and seedpods combined with tiny knops and bells giving an extra touch of exuberance to highly individual pieces.

The Bedouin way of life is shrinking fast as development over the last forty years has brought numerous opportunities and wealth to Omanis. Very soon the nomad population will have disappeared forever. Nonetheless, their legacy will live on in their exquisite jewellery. Traditional Omani silver might be a bit over the top for everyday wear, but real antique pieces are scarce and will increase in value. Even if you refrain from investing, celebrate the beauty and indestructible courage of these remarkable women of yesteryear. They truly were the queens of the desert.