A day of firsts

We have an emergency Disaster Siren Drill once a week. Same day and time each week. And no matter where I am, the hair on my arms stands up, my heart sinks and I feel sick to my stomach. I just can't seem to get used to it. I think deep down, I know what a real siren will mean.

You can hear this thing everywhere. It's so loud you just can't hide. So yesterday, as I put my hand on the door, heading out the to garage to put the kids in the bike buggy, and ride Roo to school; the alarm went off. This is not the day or time it is supposed to go off. I seriously panicked. I was breathing heavy, eyes watered a little, then I got my wits about me and was fine. I wasn't even really sure what to do. The paperwork says close all doors and windows, lock them, and stay inside. I have heard, turn off appliances and cover windows as well.

The above would cover the main fears: explosion, gas leak, and armed intruders. Well kind of. I mean really, would anything really cover any of these? So I took the kids in the back room and we said a prayer, and of course, just as I said amen - the alarm stopped. (now a Thank you! was in order) Never having been in this situation, I remembered there was a number to call. Upon hearing the recorded message in broken English, I wasn't sure what was really going on; except it said "if this were a real emergency", so I figured it may have been a test. After 1.5 hours of waiting for an "all clear", I got an email from the school asking if Roo was coming or not. I called them right away, and I think they thought I was crazy. Everything had gone on all morning, like nothing was going on. Apparently, I am the only one who is a paranoid crazy person.

In the end, it turns out, it was some kind of operational drill. And I learned I need to do some research to find out exactly what I need to do. Especially in regards to keeping tabs on family members at different locations on camp. We did get an all clear signal about three hours after the original siren. See, stay inside until you hear the all clear. Right? Oh well.

But the excitement of the day didn't end there.

Around one in the afternoon, I noticed that clouds seemed to be rolling in. Dark, ugly looking, brown clouds. Guess what? Those were no clouds. This was our first dust storm.

(Chach calls our house cleaner Sheriff, as his name sounds something like this. So from now on, Ping Pong will now be known as Sheriff)

So Sheriff says to me, "What is happening to the weather? Rain maybe?" We go outside. He says, "Hmmm. Not rain. Dust. If you stay outside, in one hour, you will covered in white." (he told me later, that he couldn't even run his fingers through his hair when he got home from work - covered in dust) The sand here is as fine as baby powder, so is blows and hangs in the air like a fine powder. And all the pollution hangs with it. It stinks, is hard on your eyes and lungs, and is full of poison. Nice.

The day was dark, like a really dark overcast day. The kids came home hooting and hollering about it. They had a friend duck in, until his parents could bring him a mask to make it all the way home. Peter came home at four, coughing and covered in dust. No one had a scarf to cover themselves on the way home. Now I know why the workers ALWAYS carry a scarf with them. You never know when one of these will hit. The wind howled all night, and the dust is everywhere.

It was the same this morning. And I realized another reason to get a car; dust storms. (The other is, when the alarm goes off for real - how the heck are we supposed to get outta here?!) So below are pictures of each of us as we left for our morning "commutes".


Peter, first.

Next the boys. You can't even tell how gross it is. It's just so fine.


Here's me. (Does a sweatshirt over 'jammas count as kind of dressed? No bra, mind you - I'm a lazy mom-drop-offer, sorry)


Here are all three of the little ones. I put the cover on the buggy, a blanket over as a filter, and the stroller bug net to secure it. Whatever works.

I know you're thinking we all look ridiculous. We do. It did make me feel better that every one else on camp looks like this as well. I think we may need to invest in some face masks. Yeah. Good idea.