What is a Majalis? Understanding an Omani Tradition
When we first arrived in Muscat, I kept hearing people talk about the majlis. At first, I wasn’t entirely sure what it meant—was it a room, a tradition, a kind of social event? It came up in conversations about everything from house layouts to Omani hospitality, and before long I realised it was one of those words that holds much more meaning than any direct English translation can convey.
When we moved into our new home, I discovered we had one too — a majlis room, tucked just off the main entrance. Today, it’s where I’ve set up my home office, but it’s also a space that connects us to the culture around us and reminds me every day of how Oman beautifully blends tradition and modern life.
So, What Does “Majlis” Mean?
In Arabic, majlis (مجلس) literally means a place to sit or a gathering place. It’s a simple idea but in the Gulf, and especially in Oman, it carries deep cultural significance. Traditionally, the majlis is where people meet to talk, share news, welcome guests, and make decisions. It might be a family sitting together over Omani coffee (kahwa) and dates, or a community discussing local issues. Even Oman’s political and business meetings are held in formal majlises, reflecting the value placed on conversation, listening, and respect.
The plural — majalis — simply means multiple gathering places.
The Cultural Heart of an Omani Home
In Omani homes, the majlis is much more than just a living room. It’s a symbol of hospitality and respect.
When guests visit, they’re usually received here first, often through a separate entrance so they can come straight into the majlis without walking through the private areas of the home. It’s always beautifully presented: plush seating arranged for easy conversation, soft carpets, ornate cushions, and a tray ready for dates and coffee.
A typical Omani coffee set, called a dallah, often takes pride of place. We don’t have one yet, but I’m sure we’ll end up taking one home, and there’s usually a small side table with incense (bukhoor) or sweets. Bukhoor, a blend of aromatic wood chips soaked in fragrant oils, is gently heated over charcoal to release a rich, smoky perfume that lingers in the air. You’ll often notice it drifting through hotel lobbies, souqs, and family homes; there’s even a sort of municipal version in Muscat airport. Traditionally, hosts burn bukhoor before guests arrive, letting the fragrance infuse their clothes, cushions, and curtains. It’s both practical and symbolic: a way of cleansing the space, showing care, and creating an atmosphere of calm generosity. We do have a cheapo bukoor burner courtesy of LuLu supermarket, and a jar of the scented bark from one of the many Oud Dudes, as we call the many sellers of oud and local perfumes in malls.
How the Majlis Fits Into Modern Life
Even in new housing developments, you’ll find homes across Oman still include a majlis, including ours, which is a sign of how deeply this tradition is woven into daily life.
Traditionally, the majlis does reflect some of the social customs around privacy and gender separation in Omani and wider Gulf culture but it’s not designed exclusively for that purpose. Historically, many homes had two separate majlises: one for men and one for women, or a single majlis that men used for hosting guests while women entertained visitors elsewhere in the home. This arrangement wasn’t about exclusion so much as hospitality and respect for privacy, especially in extended families where multiple generations lived together.
In modern Oman, things are more flexible. In many families and particularly in expat homes, there’s just one majlis, and it’s used for mixed gatherings or as a general reception space. It still tends to be near the main entrance so guests can come directly in without crossing through private areas of the home, which maintains that sense of respect for household privacy.
Many traditional majlises have a small adjoining washroom or sink area so guests can wash their hands before and after sharing dates or coffee, especially during large gatherings. In older or more traditional homes, this feature is almost standard, but in modern villas, it varies some have a cloakroom nearby instead.
For many expats, the majlis becomes a flexible, multipurpose room, an extra lounge, an office, or even a hobby space. When we moved in, I quickly realised it was the brightest, calmest spot in the house, and it’s where I now work each day.
Our Own Majlis Room
Our majlis is at the front of the house, with large windows and views across the quiet street and desert beyond. It’s spacious, bright, and originally came furnished with a western-style dining table and chairs, perfect for hosting but not so ideal for Zoom calls.
We made a few changes: swapping some of the furniture, adding my standing desk, a second screen, and a sofa because we tend to host in the main living room, or now that it’s cooler out in the garden. I hung a few art prints from the UK and Portugal to make it feel like home, while keeping the open, welcoming feel that makes the space what it is.
It’s still very much a majlis — even if these days, instead of sharing kahwa, I’m more likely to be on an SEO strategy call!
Visiting a Majlis: What to Expect
If you’re invited to someone’s majlis in Oman, it’s an honour — and a lovely way to experience Omani hospitality up close.
Here are a few things I’ve learned along the way:
Greet your host warmly. Handshakes are common for men and I’ve found that most Omani men do a slight bow and cover their heart when greeting me rather than shake my hand, although it’s very much personal preference.
Remove your shoes if your host does, most visitors to our home, including workmen leave their shoes at the bottom of the front steps.
Accept the coffee or dates offered. Saying yes shows appreciation, and it’s part of the ritual of welcome.
Dress modestly, even in western-style homes. It’s customary for women to cover their shoulders and knees at least.
Take your time. A majlis visit isn’t rushed; it’s about connection, not convenience.
