In Saudi Arabia’s Asir province, male members of the Qahtani (or in some other variants Tihama) tribe are known as ‘Flower Men’ for their intricately-made floral headpieces. They wear flower crowns of marigold, sage and basil to enhance both beauty and health. You have already seen Ibrahim and Hudaish wearing traditional flower crowns on their heads. Today we revisit Abdul Hadi Ahmed Al Mahdi of Tamniah Heritage Museum and see his kids perform a traditional dance with daggers for us.

A Party in A Wadi

As we arrive, Bushra – the little girl with the basket – greets us like royalty, gently placing marigold necklaces around our necks in a gesture that feels both timeless and full of joy. From there, we begin our walk down the dry wadi, slipping beneath the bridge and climbing up to where a giant tree spreads like a blessing protecting us from the rain.

Beneath it, the boys have already transformed the space into a full-blown outdoor majlis – carpets unrolled, cushions in place, ready to host. And just as we come into view, the DJ locks eyes with us and hits play, filling the valley with rhythm. Within seconds, the kids are up on their feet, dancing like the mountain air itself is cheering them on.

Why?

This wasn’t my first time seeing the tribesmen in their floral crowns – some of them had come to EXPO 2020, where I’d photographed and shared their presence on social media. Questions poured in: Why are the men wearing flowers? Who are these people? What does it mean?

A lot of why, why, why—but not always from a place of curiosity.

And now, being here again, I’m reminded that exploring heritage experiences isn’t for everyone. For some, it stirs confusion or even discomfort. Perhaps because it doesn’t fit neatly into the expected narrative of what tradition, masculinity, or celebration should look like.

But for me, the moment I stepped into this world, I met nothing but warmth. These people – whose language, history, and way of life are vastly different from mine – welcomed me without hesitation. They shared their love of music, of flowers, of joy, and reminded me that sometimes the most human thing we can do is simply show up with open hearts.

This Is How THey Do It

We spent over an hour lounging on the carpets, sipping Saudi coffee and sweet tea, the conversations flowing as gently as the breeze. The men danced with joyful ease while a light rain fell softly around us, just enough to feel poetic, not inconvenient. It was one of those rare moments that feels suspended in time.

The children were especially sweet – shy, curious, and wonderfully well-mannered. They hovered nearby, watching us with wide eyes, and didn’t seem to mind our cameras. Their presence added something to the whole scene – a quiet reminder of the next generation growing up under the same trees, with the same songs in the air.

Yet again, I will say – I am very grateful to have experienced the hospitality, to have seen a glimpse into the lives of people who are trying to preserve their original ways. I hope they manage to keep their traditions alive, because they are just pure joy to experience.

Replace the fear of the unknown with curiosity.

Much love,

Anna