The Dreaded Shamal

The Middle East Version of a Blizzard


Yes, it’s warm. Yes, on most days the sun is shining. Most often (although not nearly as often as it used to be due to some unknown form of pollution) the sky is blue. But on unfortunate days, we are hit with a shamal. Seems we’ve had lots of these dreaded days this winter.

As I’m sure most of you can, imagine a blinding snow blizzard. They try, in your mind’s eye, to replace the snow with sand. Not just any sand, but a very special evil sand that gets in each and every crevice of your house and your person. That’s a shamal.

By definition, a shamal is actually a northwest wind that originates in the lower river valleys of the Tigris-Euphrates river system. The result is a nasty sand storm that blows fine silt from the Euphrates river valley down through Iraq and onto the Gulf States.

It really sucks. It would be one thing if houses were built up to our flawless Western standards. But I swear there is a ½ inch gap between the bottom edge of our front door and the floor. There is no such thing as weather stripping or caulking, and the windows are just crap. The dust seeps in every which way and everything gets covered with a fine layer. The white glove test would fail within 30 seconds of even the most meticulous dusting.

That’s inside. Outside, the sand whips around and gets in your eyes. If you open your lips to bare your teeth, you get a free tooth polishing. There are no clouds but the sky is gray. The most recent episode produced wicked winds. One of the bougainvillea vines that had been growing on our garden wall for at least 6 years was uprooted and blown right off the wall to which it had been secured.

The poor guys who work for the maintenance company at the complex where I teach yoga sweep buckets of sand off the concourse. The parking lot cleaners sweep sand out of the parking garage. There are poor little Indian guys who sweep sand out of the streets (for a pittance I'm sure), it drifts up against the speed bumps like snow would around a snow fence. I can’t help but conjure up images of the Joad family.

I’ve heard statistics on how much sand is in the lungs of those of us fortunate enough to live in this desert climate. However high the numbers are, I believe them. Think about it. How can you NOT inhale the stuff? It gives you a headache, a sore throat, makes you very grouchy, and you get sand buggers in your nose.

But then the sky clears, if we're lucky the winds have blown in a rain, my maid comes and cleans away the dust in my house for what you’d pay for a latte, and the blue sky reappears. It still sucks when the sand is blowing, but once it lifts, you can’t help but appreciate the blue sky all the more, say a quiet word of thanks that you aren’t one of the little sand sweeper people, and head out to gratefully breathe in some fresh air!