February 1, 2011

For the second day in a row the wind has been blowing and the sand is flying through the air. The sand is in every corner, in every window sill and swirled into little piles in the middle of all the porches. Every flat surface has a coating of sand on it. You can see and feel it in the air. Our throats are dry and our sinus cavities are irritated. To step outside for a quick trip to the garage leaves a gritty feeling in the teeth and sand in the eyes. Our plastic grass needs a good watering, to knock the dust down. Puffs of dust fly as we walk or bounce a ball with the kids. We have not had rain as some of the other emirates have. So, we are very dry. The warm wind whips the trees and flowers around, swirling dust high into the air and causing visibility to be very limited. The wind is so warm and dry that fresh flowers are dried up within a few hours of blooming.

I have seen sandstorms in movies, (Hollywood is all about real life), read about them in books, and learned a bit about them in geography. Yet I was not prepared for this. I expected a sand storm or two, we are in the desert, so I was not totally naive or ignorant. Living through a sand storm is romantic somehow. We are heroes for surviving such a climatic disaster. Please forget that we are in the comfort of our homes.

Some of the tallest cranes in the world are in Dubai right now. They tower over the surrounding buildings and are interesting to watch as they lift and lower large items for the workers to use. From our back yard we watch about eight cranes doing their work. It is interesting to watch them work, but to watch them in the wind and sand is another type of entertainment. I wonder when the workers decide it is dangerous enough to stop working. Yesterday I noticed that everything had stopped for a few hours. We can see the cranes through the heavy air, but not too clearly.

I started a few loads of laundry yesterday, before the wind and sand started to get restless. Of course the clothes were dark and so the light colored dust really stood out as it settled on the dark, damp clothes. I hang my clothes on the clothes line. Yesterday, they whipped around in the wind, breaking some of the clothes pins. I had the grandchildren hold a sheet for me and it just billowed like a sail. We laughed as it snapped out of their hands and waved above their heads. No matter how high they jumped, they were unable to grab the sheet again. Needless to say, some things did not get hung on the clothes line.

Lilly, my five year old granddaughter is such a trooper. After sunset, the wind dies down. So we vacuum, sweep and dust as fast as we can. Then we wash our feet so that we do not take dirty feet to bed at night.