Blog written by ALS 2026 Participant, Luna Holden
Our first language class at the Sultan Qaboos Institute in Manah was all about pearl divers. It was Ustaad Mustafa who introduced us to the idea of learning Arabic through a series of metaphors, comparing the language to the ocean and inviting us to dive into its depths in search of the elegance of its expressions, vocabulary, and grammar, its pearls. 
The maritime metaphors did not end there. Ustaad Maged also likened Arabic to the sea, explaining that words, like fish, always swim within the context of a sentence. Just as a fish cannot survive outside water, a word loses much of its meaning when separated from its context.
These are just two examples of the creativity and dedication our teachers brought to every lesson, and of what makes the British Omani Arabic Language Scheme such a unique experience. Learning, and more importantly using, Arabic every day quickly became part of our routine. Classes ran from 8:00 a.m. until 12:30 p.m., giving us the opportunity to develop a wide range of language skills. For example, after reading an article and discussing its themes in our first two lessons, we might spend the latter two listening to Al-Jazeera clips or taking part in classroom debates. This variety meant that, despite the early starts and long mornings, we were constantly challenged, engaged, and learning something new.
Of course, speaking Arabic was not limited to the classroom or to conversations with taxi drivers. The language partner scheme ensured that the vocabulary and expressions we learned in class were put into practice in real conversations. I became good friends with my language partner, Zainab, who took me and another classmate to cafés, museums, and even the zoo. I will never forget the sight of a huge ostrich charging towards us, snapping its beak in the hope of a snack. After wandering past monkeys, gazelles, camels, and a striking white Arabian oryx, we settled into a café with iced lattes and practised the week's new vocabulary by making up sentences together.
Our outings with Zainab also included a visit to Birkat Al-Mouz, affectionately known as the "Banana Village" because of its lush palm and banana groves. The village is also home to ancient aflāj, the traditional irrigation system that has sustained communities across Oman for centuries. More than anything, I will remember Zainab's warmth, generosity, and constant encouragement to express ourselves in Arabic. With her, a few hours on our timetable felt like a magical adventure.
Our weekend trips to Muscat and Sur were equally unforgettable. In just two days, our programme organisers introduced us to the grand halls of the National Museum, the golden sunset over Qurum Beach, the magnificent crystal chandelier of the Sultan Qaboos Grand Mosque, and the endless maze of oud and frankincense shops in Mutrah Souq.
While we enjoyed the energy and bustle of Muscat, Sur immersed us in the extraordinary beauty of Oman's natural landscape. Wadi Shab was a particular highlight. The adventure began with a short boat ride across the river before the trail led us deep into a canyon lined with palm trees and filled with the distant braying of donkeys. We climbed steadily upwards, crossing streams and scrambling over rocky staircases until we finally reached a heavenly oasis of crystal-blue and emerald-green water. Diving in instantly washed away the heat, sweat, and exhaustion of the climb. Lying on my back and looking up at the sky, framed by dusky orange rocks, I found myself thinking that moments like these remind us how small we are, and how much there still is to discover in the world.
The British Omani Society made all these moments, both big and small, possible, and I am incredibly grateful to have experienced them. This was not simply another Arabic course taken to pass an exam or earn a certificate. For two months, I lived in the quiet desert town of Manah, where Arabic became more than just a subject to study. It was the sea, and I was a pearl diver.