#13 The Sandstorm

A short blog for you – a little out of my ordinary in that I have only one thing to discuss, versus my disjointed thoughts anywhere and everywhere. I will attempt to stay on one subject only, that being sand, sand storms, and the corollary: dust.

In a word: its everywhere, and my eyes have been tearing, discharging, and have been clogged up constantly since my arrival here three months ago.

This morning as I usually do on the weekend I go off to McDonalds for my morning Jo. Today I woke up to a haze of dust, not unlike a grey fog we might experience back home. While it is devoid of moisture, it hangs insidiously, right in front of you. It limits visibility and everything gets covered in a fine layer of dust.

In my villa dust accumulates at the foot of the entry door, on the furniture, and places you don’t see (or choose to ignore). Even the top of the toilet tank as the fan (that is otherwise open to the ceiling above) gets covered in a fine layer of dust. If your not a big fan of dusting around home, don’t move here.

This morning was a case in point. I had to take a drive just to get a sense of its density. Whoa.

As I have done in the past, I use the financial center as a reference point. Disclaimer: I pass by it everyday on my way to and from work, and I like tall buildings and the crown jewel of the complex is a nearly completed building of some 88 stories.

The sand gets into everything. Not at all like the beach sand you may get in your swimsuit, with big grainy things you know are in there. This is like a fine silt that settles everywhere. The windshield of your car, despite the lack of rain, you need to clean daily. Squirting wiper fluid as you leave in the morning becomes the ritual of work. Despite no rain, slush, frost or snow you use almost the same amount of fluid as we would at home. Despite the city’s attempt to keep things clean, everything has a dull hue to it because of the sand that settles on everything. Window washers would have a field day in this town as it is a battle you could never win.

I have heard people say that the sand storms were not so bad prior to the gulf war. Hypothesizing that it was the tanks rolling through the desert that broke the thin crust that develops on desert landscapes to limit the blowing sand. I’m not so sure having not heard or read anything to confirm or deny that theory – so I will withhold judgement. However, Phoenix and Vegas have sand storms and I don’t remember tanks rolling around that part of world in the recent past.

A couple of blog posts ago I listed the things I like and don’t like about being here. This I should have added. I have bought eye drops at the pharmacy but they provide only temporary relief. I can almost taste it in the pool when I do my daily swim. Outside deck chairs you need to wipe off every time you sit outside – which is often in this warm environment.

Pictures here tell the story. Below are two shots from essentially the same vantage point: clear day, and not so clear.

Clear:

After:

A few other shots to ponder:

Believe it or not on a clear day the financial center is directly ahead and the place I use as a reference point when I am trying to get myself home. Days like this not so much:

At home the lines are so clear cut – its either sunny or the grey clouds that threaten rain. The lines are not so clear here: a little sand, a lot of sand, sandstorms, clear day or thunder clouds on the horizon.

Maybe I’m just being the paranoid bubble boy but I would be lying if I didn’t mention that I have thought about what this might be doing to my respiratory system. Is all that dust settling in my lungs turning to concrete? Will I be trim and fit that I need to be again, and find I have not lost any weight because I have these concrete dead weights weighing me down? Occupational hazard I guess.

So that’s it. Blog #13 over and out. Short and sweet as promised.

Now its time to pack my bags and come home!

I’ve been here and done that
Now in transition from there and where I’m at.