My Country, My Country

I love this country. The building site where I live provides shade and scale, in contrast to the flat, featureless desert landscapes others have to put up with. As a child, I had collections of plastic lorries and Caterpillar vehicles; now I can see up to thirty real ones, trundling, growling behemoths kicking up vast clouds of dust. What fun. Winter temperatures, with freezing noses and icy roads no longer trouble me. Instead, I can bask in the sunshine of temperatures in excess of 51 degrees Celsius, surely warm enough for anyone. It’s a shame that my pool is almost always covered in a fine film of dust, otherwise I could take advantage of it more often. Sandstorms, we’re told, seem to be becoming more frequent, generated in the Arabian furnaces, propelled by malevolent djinn and no longer confined to the summer months when expatriates are torn away from the deserts they love so much back home to more temperate climates. According to a study conducted by a US Navy researcher and reported by USA TODAY, US troops in Iraq, Afghanistan and Kuwait have inhaled microscopic dust particles laden with toxic metals,including aluminium, lead, tin and strontium-not counting any stray uranium from tank-busting missiles, also bacteria and fungi. If the troops have, all the rest of us have too. Quite alarming, really. The air we breathe has been described as a ‘toxic stew’ of bacteria and fungi. A toxic stew that may explain everything from the undiagnosed Gulf War Syndrome symptoms to high rates of respiratory, neurological and heart ailments. 


Now I understand why people walk around looking like this…


Big respect, of course. I don’t know these charming ladies but no doubt their family members recognise them.


Must I really leave this delightful place in a little under three weeks?

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2 thoughts on “My Country, My Country

  1. I guess the only way for a chauffeur to spot his mistress when picking her up in front of the Avenue is her handbag : Gucci, D&G, Prada…

    And yes, you MUST leave this paradise in less than 3 weeks for drought cursed Europe…poor you…
    Gipsy

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  2. The facetiousness of this post quite exceeds the allowable quotient for any one blog. I shall blithely swan through my summer, inhaling miniscule bits of toxin with the ubiquitous dust you will miss so much.
    My hope will be that I have not grown a third eye or ear by the time you return from “drought-cursed Europe.”

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