A thin film of black soot covers everything plastic in my office; plastic filing sleeves, plastic bags, plastic book covers. Everything that is not plastic simply absorbs it, like, I assume, my lungs.
On the way home tonight the dust particles (of whatever origin) clouded the sky, altering the color of the setting sun and reducing visibility to a hundred yards at most.
At this time of the year precipitation, snow or rain, should have pushed all those particles into the ground. People are worried because the only way a drought next summer can be avoided is through snow or rain during the winter months. None has fallen yet.
The temperature is dropping fast and Kabul is getting colder by the day. Nevertheless, many of our office staff are still walking around with their bare feet in plastic slippers and in shirt sleeves.
Every day the household staff hose down the dust in our compound. The dust is covering every surface, including the bottom of the shallow fountain pool in front of the main building. The water turns to ice on the uneven pathways, creating yet another danger for us hapless foreigners.
Sylvia's Journal 
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