This project, this new publication, will be the beacon of hope that will lead lost boats to the shores of Omani literary treasures.
The launch of Beacon was a milestone in the history of Omani culture.
Though it has only been 4 years since the first issue of Beacon saw the light of day, it is somewhat hard to trace its progress, mainly due to the ups and downs it has gone through. I’ll be focusing on tracing this progress rather than expressing my feelings as we celebrate the golden jubilee of Beacon, because speaking about Beacon would be like speaking about myself. I would need volumes to voice the excitement and disappointments, the triumph and tribulations, the milestones reached and the obstacles faced. I would need volumes to truly thank the dedicated souls that have pledged to serve Beacon and promote Omani literature for one reason only: because they firmly believed that this literature deserves to be read. So, buckle up, and join me on this journey.
I can’t pinpoint a single incident that could be labeled the “launch pad” for Beacon. I would say that Beacon was the product of a chain reaction that was mainly instigated by a short newspaper article entitled “Help, Translators… Help!” in late 2007. It was an article celebrating the translation of world literature into Arabic, scolding translators for ignoring the cultural and literary treasures of Omani society. An easily provoked young translator, I found myself contacting this writer and promising her that the status quo would change. That call paved the way to my initiation into the Omani Society for Writers and Literati and publishing my first translation of Omani literature. That short story was a source of mockery mainly because the English text was published side by side with its Arabic original in an Arabic literary publication. Yet we never gave up. We knew that nobody would bother to read an English text in a “specialized” Arabic publication, but that was not the goal in the first place. The goal was to inform the readers that something great was being cooked.
A number of similar translations emerged, and the mockery never stopped. Then one evening in March 2008, I got a call from the Chairman of the Literati Society asking me to form a team. It was time. So I started contacting fellow translators, only to be disappointed because many of them still believed that Omani literature was not “good enough”. Nevertheless, we kept asking, and eventually, a team was made. The first thing we had to agree on was the name, so we called for a brainstorming session. There were many names suggested that day, such as “Insightopedia” and “Beads of Whisper”; at least that’s what I can remember. But then the name “Beacon” was mentioned. It was somehow a collective effort that suddenly led to a beautiful concept. This project, this new publication, will be the beacon of hope that will lead the lost boats to the shores of Omani literary treasures.
And so it began, we started collecting “translatable” Omani texts and building a data bank. We were committed to having enough material for at least three issues before the first issue was launched. We contacted a reputable publishing firm to join in this national initiative. They welcomed it, but as soon as it came to their attention that we were sponsored by a third party, they asked us to pay “publication fees”. We had already begun designing the first issue when we decided to move to another publication house which was more than generous in promising us 8 colored pages on a monthly basis. Although 8 pages seemed so little, it was more than enough for us, considering the small young team we had.
In November 7, 2008, we launched Beacon. It was a beautiful evening as the translators recited the stories and poems they had translated while Omani Oud music was playing in the background. The launch of Beacon was a milestone in the history of Omani culture.
Months passed by. Every new issue had a new addition to it. New ideas were tested. Some worked, others were not well received. I had to go abroad to pursue further studies, so I handed Beacon to a new administration which by then was more than ready to take the responsibility. New members joined in. Old members stayed loyal for quite some time, but then they slowly withdrew. However the creativity kept on going. The publishing firm changed the paper size, and we were forced to make a decision, whether to accept the new smaller size, or add more pages. So we decided to add 4 more pages, and we published our first 12- page issue. But then we realized that, according to the policies of the publishing firm, the number of pages should be multiples of 8. This meant that if we had less than 16 pages, the other pages would be filled with ads, to which we had strong objections. So we went back to our 8 pages, and less space.
Though voluntary in nature, Beacon needed money to keep going. The translators needed to be compensated for their time; the language editor and the designer would not work for free either. The amount of money spent on Beacon monthly was minute, yet the new administration of the Literati Society – which did not share the views and aspirations of the former administration – considered Beacon a “hole in the budget”. So they finally decided to pull the plug.
We were in our 41st issue when we realized that we would have no more funding, and we had to make a decision. So we decided to go on, on a purely voluntarily basis for the next 9 issues. We will then bid Beacon farewell and start thinking of a new, better-planned project, perhaps a 100- page annual journal. Beacon has served the Omani society for 50 continuous months. Never has a monthly literary publication in Oman endured for such a long time, especially with publication team of students.
Indeed, I am proud that I was part of this innovative initiative, but I am mostly privileged that I have worked with such committed team members. Their dedication kept me going… kept Beacon going.
Finally, I find myself obliged to acknowledge the efforts of those whose names were hardly seen on the pages of Beacon, yet without whom Beacon wouldn’t have seen the light. They were the hidden soldiers of this national cause. Thanks go to Ayesha Al Seifi, the writer of the article that ignited this chain reaction. Thanks go to Nasser Al Badri, the former Chairman of the Literati Society and the true Godfather of Beacon. Thanks go to Said Al Hashmi, the invisible curator of Beacon and the “dynamo” as I used to call him due to his endless efforts to promote young Omani initiatives. Thanks go to Dr. Saida Khater, the former Vice-Chairman of the Literati Society who contributed the most to the success of the Beacon Symposium in 2010.
Dear friends, it was a true privilege working with you. Adios.