“Could you hear that where you are?"; “That sounded close”; and, this week: “Was that thunder or an interception?”
Like many people in the UAE, my relationship with loud noises has changed in the past month, and many conversations have begun by interrogating the various sounds we can hear.
In fewer than 30 days, I have gone from someone proud of my ability to shrug off a jump scare, to jumping out of my skin every time I hear the bang of construction, the engine of a modified car or a neighbour moving furniture. And based on the memes I have been seeing, I am not alone in feeling like this.
“During conflict, our threat system is more active, so we become hyper-alert to sound. Even neutral noises can feel louder or more alarming because the brain is scanning for danger,” says Dr Gurveen Ranger, a consultant clinical psychologist at Sage Clinics in Dubai. “Sound is one of the fastest ways to activate the body’s threat response. Sudden or loud noises can trigger adrenalin and a fight-or-flight reaction almost instantly.”
This week, we have also faced some loud weather here in the UAE; it’s been windy and rainy, with plenty of thunder and lightning. Casting our minds back to the last big storm in 2024, flooding and home damage were at the top of the list of worries. This time around, it’s a newly developed fear of thunder for many.
Astraphobia is the extreme fear of thunder and lightning, and while I am not suggesting I have developed a phobia, the sound of thunder rumbling through my house has bothered me in a way it never has in the past. Messages of reassurance from the UAE Ministry of Interior and National Emergency Crisis and Disaster Management Authority speak to the fact that the booming weather has been more alarming for people than usual.
The sound of thunder is “normal and expected under such weather”, a message shared on social media earlier this week read, adding that “in the event of any threat, warnings and instructions will be issued immediately”.
The word “triggered” is grossly misused. But for some, much of what is happening in the UAE now could bring up difficult memories of past experiences. For others, who are living through conflict for the first time, it’s establishing new fears and sonic associations.
It’s not lost on me that this changing relationship with sound is, in and of itself, something of a privilege.
I have had conversations with a severely deaf colleague who is navigating her own series of hurdles. She’s spoken about a reluctance to take her hearing aids out overnight, being acutely aware of motion and relying on those around her to help her identify sounds. Another friend who has mild hearing loss isn’t hearing many of the booms, which has brought in its own feelings of vulnerability.
But we have watched as the UAE has adapted to the public’s response to sound. As well as reassuring messages about thunder, the Eid Al Fitr fireworks and some Ramadan canons were cancelled, and the MOI has changed the overnight and all-clear alert sounds, something Dr Ranger describes as a “responsiveness to public well-being”.
Gone are the blaring sirens at 2am, replaced by the melodic three-note ding of the standard text message tone. Last week, I had dinner with a friend who has not developed a visceral reaction to the sound, unlike her fellow diners, who recoiled every time she received a WhatsApp. The phone was eventually put on silent.
“People are more vulnerable at night. Sleep lowers our defences, and sudden, harsh sounds can trigger a stronger startle and panic response. A less distressing tone reduces unnecessary alarm, supports better sleep and helps the body return to a state of safety more quickly,” Dr Ranger adds.
And then there is the case of alerts in public places, when it’s not just your own phone to contend with, but hordes of others. I recently got to find out what that sounds like when more than 300 phones went off in harmony in a packed cinema. Hunkered down in a dark, windowless room, I felt safe as we continued to watch Project Hail Mary, albeit slightly disconcerted by the chorus of alerts.
That feeling of disconcertion was felt by another friend, who was sitting in a cafe where an unruly group started playing the alert sound on their phones, much to the dismay of fellow patrons. They were told to cut it out and the incident was even laughed off by some, but that instinctual reaction of an initial alert is well embedded in people.
Hopefully, this heightened awareness will fade with time. The rumble of thunder will return to being just weather, and our phones pinging will once again be easy to ignore.
But for now, we are listening differently and trying to make sense of every sound.
