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A TRIPOD'S TOUR OF AFRICA
JORDANIA A MERCED DEL HABBOB
Manena´s
window
Traveling Anecdotes
Photos and words: Manena Munar manena.munar@gmail.com
‘It is those little things... as Joan Manuel Serrat would sing, which after a
trip remain in the memory and when you remember them you smile, cry
or laugh out loud. I would like to take some of them out of the boot of my
memories and share them with you.
Jordan, at the mercy of the Habbob
When the Haboob blows,
the world vanishes in its
wake. The desert storm is
an experience that leaves
no one unmoved, revea-
ling a very particular side
of the journey.
We are about to land at Queen Alia
Airport in Amman, and through the air-
plane window, all that can be seen is
a dense yellowish dust that hides the
world from view.
The capital of Jordan is shut down by
a desert storm that has swallowed it
mercilessly. There is no school, no
work, no one in the streets. Just a few
bewildered tourists—us—unable to be-
lieve such a vision, or rather, the lack of
one. Suddenly, out of nowhere, a pair
of almond-shaped blue eyes appears,
emerging through the fog and the ni-
qab, as if to prove that life in Amman
goes on.
The sand has swallowed buildings,
trees—everything. Which is, admitted-
ly, somewhat frustrating for our group,
weighed down with cameras and drea-
ming of photographing the clear blue
skies Jordan is said to enjoy. And yet,
within moments, realising we are wit-
nessing an unusual phenomenon, we
seize the opportunity and the strange
light revealed by a weakened sun, and
capture a different kind of landscape.
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