Haboob season full-blast

Last night was our fourth haboob in four days. If you have been reading this blog, but still don't know what a haboob is, you need to turn to the Ultimate Source of All Knowledge and find it out for yourself. (Seriously, why did they name it "wiki"? It should have been usak...)

Haboobs are not really liked around here. To begin with, they are dusty. This is probably understating the obvious and by now some here will claim that I should have been born  British. The dust they carry is very fine and gets in through all the possible cracks. Their rapid penetration and coating of all available surfaces is greatly aided by gale-force winds that sound downright ghastly when blowing through air-coolers and air-conditioners.

So, you wake up in the morning and you can see your footprints on the floor. Then someone spills a glass of water and now you are dealing with mud all over the house. Everything you touch is covered in dust, even if you clearly remember having handled it the day before. The yard is an entangled mess of thick sand, fallen leaves and garbage blown in from the street. Everytime someone goes out, they bring some of this back in. It is not pretty. Not to mention that you get this constant sand taste in your mouth, even when you are not eating.

But despite it all, I enjoy it. First of all, because we have windows that actually close. Believe it or not, this is a rare feat here in Sudan. We do get the dust in, but it is localised to a few specific spots, such as the front door. And then obviously we get the dust that lingers in the air and that no one can avoid. But other than that, the effects of a proper haboob are not that visible in here.

Secondly, haboobs provide an interesting change of weather pattern. When you get 360 days of sunshine per year, with temperatures only varying by 25 degrees between the hottest and the coldest days, you do get bored out of your wits. At least I do. So haboobs cater to the same kind of fascination as a hail or thunderstorm back home, something uncontrollable and different.

Driving through a haboob is a bit like going through a very thick snowstorm or a fog accompanied by blowing winds. It is great fun, as long as you manage to keep safe. Also, haboobs make the temperatures drop, a little bit dampening the summer heat.

Four haboobs in four days. I feel for all those poor souls who spent these four days looking for a shelter from the winds and dust and then cleaning up the mess, only to get their efforts blown away by the next batch of sandy gales. I know that for 99% of people haboobs are a calamity. But there is still something in them that lifts up my spirits.