Weather rivalries

The various weather departments that predict daily climatic conditions in Jordan are having a bit of a row. I got to know of this even before I boarded my flight back to Amman, from my home country India. If AccuWeather said one thing, ArabiaWeather stated quite another. And to make matters more confusing, the Jordan Meteorological Department came up with its own findings.

Extreme weather conditions were forecast for a particular day last week, where a very cold polar front was supposed to bring heavy rain, strong winds, sub zero temperatures and snowfall with a possibility of flood formation. But the very next day, it was announced that the magnitude of the cold polar front would be weaker than what was announced earlier.

“The changing weather charts indicated that the impact of the combined weather conditions was less because the strength, timing and the expected accumulation of snow had changed,” explained a prominent meteorologist. “On the other hand, a new weather system could prevail that might bring more rain and snow to the country,” he concluded. 

Right! With each of these yo-yo conjectures, my stress levels shot up and hovered on a constant panic mode. It’s a good thing that my blood pressure stays on the lower side; otherwise I would be popping some very strong pills, I tell you. The reason why I had the weather-in-Amman window constantly open on my iPhone was because I had closed my house up for nearly four weeks while I visited India this winter. But as the time approached for me to get back to the Hashemite Kingdom of Jordan, I went on Google to check if everything was peaceful in my neighbourhood. It was then that I encountered all the contradictory versions of the weather predictions that appeared on the websites regularly.

I began to follow the trail of snow very closely. The last time it snowed in Amman, it had accumulated in large heaps on my doorstep and I could not get in or out of my house at all. But I loved being snowed-in. Staring mesmerised at the snow, as it fell in soft cotton-like tufts, was a full-time activity for me. But this instance was different. I had to reopen my locked-up home and I was not looking forward to being snowed-out. 

The contents of my cabin baggage also changed daily, according to what the weather forecaster said. So, one day I packed my earmuffs, woolen gloves and thick muffler, not knowing how long I would be stranded, shovelling the snow outside my front gate. The next day I removed all of them, hoping my entry into the house would be a smooth one, with no unexpected obstructions in my path. 

Upon my landing at the Queen Alia International Airport, dark skies greeted me on arrival. The heavy rain soaked through the luggage and I had to put dripping suitcases into the boot of the car. As I drove into the city, the raindrops became bigger but there was no hint of the expected storm, dubbed Nimeh (meaning blessing in Arabic) as yet. 

My husband pulled a long face at the exaggerated forecasts that had got his hopes up for a day off from work. 

“What is wrong with Nimeh?” he asked. 

“AccuWeather hired him,” I joked. 

“Not funny,” he grumbled fastening his tie. 

“Are you going to office?” I questioned. 

“First stop, ArabiaWeather,” he said. 

“Why?” I probed. 

“This weather rivalry needs fixing,” he declared.