with the harmattan come the flies....

We've just been in the brief cool season, about a month when it's sunny and not too hot, with cool nights and mornings. The downside of which is the harmattan wind that comes off the Sahara, bearing sand so fine it remains suspended in the air. It gets into everything, especially your nose and throat. When I open my laptop, I have to wipe it off the keyboard. Some days aren't sunny at all, in fact; they look foggy and overcast, like a wet coastal town back home, but it's bone dry. Somehow, despite the mild weather, everyone becomes sick--our whole family has been hit, Jennifer several times, and everyone we know, too.

And then there are the flies: affectionate African flies that stay right around your head and face (or right on your food), and shooing them away just makes them dodge your hand and land right back in your face. I killed 13 yesterday right before friends came over--Peter and his kids from next door (Dina was sick...see above), Dean and Sirianna and their daughter Ayla, and our neighbors from across the street, a Swiss woman and her 9-yr-old daughter. We all had a good time, but there were still flies.

The only way to keep flies away is to turn the volume up on your stereo, crank up the treble on the equalizer, and play Devo as loud as you can stand.