A New Perspective

I have long since forgotten the first time I saw Constitution hill and walked down to Buckingham Palace. Childhood visits merge with TV, film and press recollections on that well worn, tree lined path.

The first time I saw Iman, however, will be forever etched upon my memory. Sweeping into the white hot light of an Omani classroom: the soft rustle of her slate grey abaya and precise clip of her footsteps, a breath of fresh air in the stifling morning humidity of Muscat in late June. Taking my hand she explained her mission, not just to teach, but to be my guide and friend in the Arabic Language. That she has remained, and my growing comfort in the language I have chosen for four years of study owes a great deal to her boundless enthusiasm and patience.

Now, months later I was to be her guide to London, my favourite city and as much a part of me as the English Language. More nervous than that first day in class, lest my home country fail to meet her expectations. I did not anticipate that with Iman, on her first visit to England, I would be seeing it with eyes almost as fresh as hers.

The everyday sights and smells of London in September, her finest month, took a new air as I witnessed her effervescent joy in them. Simple pleasures. Blowing on her first hot chocolate with marshmallows. Cool dewey grass underfoot, stretching to a tree lined horizon in the park, a greater stretch of green than she’d ever seen. Strolling through the rose garden in Hyde Park and stooping to sniff each heavy bloom. Crunching through the terracotta gravel of autumn leaves to feed the ducks; tossing stale Omani bread crumbs to the chill breeze. Old comforts given new life in her glittering dark eyes and cries of “Subhan Allah!” (“The glory of God!”) as she tasted and savoured each for the first time.

But all of this was nothing to that road and house so emblematic of my home, Great Britain. I have long since forgotten the first time I saw Constitution Hill and walked down to Buckingham Palace, though I love it still. But I will never forget the first time Iman saw it. The incredulity and sheer wonderment writ clear upon her fine desert grown features at that magnificent avenue. Tree after tree, the tallest she’d ever seen.

The moment that summed up the greatest journey I’ve yet undertaken, all I’d seen and the very best people I’d known in Iman’s homeland, somehow actually occurred months after my return, in a city that’s always felt like home.