The (new) Cold War 空调战争

Hangzhou, China. The rainy capital city of Zhejiang province in the southeastern part of the Middle Kingdom, and my home for the next couple of months! (to all friends, family and whoever else is cool enough to be reading this... I'm SO sorry about the long delay in writing my first post! I'll be better in the future, I promise!)

Rather than detailing the grueling 30+ hours of travel time it took for both me and my matching set of cheap red Target luggage to arrive in this lovely dorm room, or going into detail about my immune system’s unending battle with all sorts of nasty Chinese cold/flu/stomach-issue-causing/拉肚子 buggies during my first few weeks here, or even commenting on the abundance of excellent Chinese eatables (and lack of Western ones) in this lovely city, I'd rather start by telling a little story. More on Chinese illnesses and foods will come in later posts, I promise- especially since I'm taking a cooking class here!

OK, I couldn't resist. Here's a pic of my Ma Po Dofu, or Grandma's Spicy Tofu, the first dish I made in my Chinese cooking class:

Peanut oil, soft tofu, spicy sauce, ground pork, chives, two spoons of water and a pinch of sugar, stir-fry until hot.

Back to the story.

So this is Zhang LiHui, or Ivy, my adorable Chinese roommate. She’s 22 going on 13 and absolutely precious- maybe 4’8” tops. Here we are at West Lake, the main tourist attraction in Hangzhou:

Allow me to explain that the two of us will be sharing a very small box of a dorm room (that makes even Stockard seem pretty luxurious) for the remainder of my term in China. Thus, I have done my best from the get-go to become “best friends” with Ivy- picking up an extra Chocolate Pudding milk tea at Hei Long on my way back from dinner, keeping my side of the room as “neat” as can be expected, watching Sweet Home Alabama together one particularly boring, rainy Sunday, even painting her nails bubblegum pink. It’s been pretty fun. That is, except for one thing: (cue dramatic music)

THE HEATER.

Here it is, the hard-working little device forced to pump warm air into my dorm room. Those are some of Ivy's clothes hanging on the clothes line in front. Hangzhou is special in that not a single building outside the ritziest hotels has the apparently Western luxury of central heating- or any heating, for that matter. In fact, our own dorm is FREEZING in the hallways and classrooms at any given time. Going to class, I pile on five layers, including my coat, scarf, gloves, Uggs and three pairs of socks, and shiver through a 42-degree two-hour class session. The heater on the wall in my room has been a lifesaver, and my room has become a sort of warm and cozy sanctuary of peace.

Enter Ivy. Apparently, in southeastern Chinese countryside culture, it is not at all kosher to leave the heater running 24 hours a day. I was unaware of this until one day the first week of class (weather outside: 37 degrees and sleeting). Upon returning from my Business Chinese lecture, I opened the door to our room to a blast of freezing air. The heater had been turned off, and the window was thrown wide open, with a bit of rain falling on the floor of our room. It was so cold! Ivy was right there, sitting on her bed and munching on some sort of Chinese candy. I asked her what was up. “The air in here isn’t fresh,” she replied matter-of-factly. “Why’s the heater turned off?” “We need to let it rest. It’s been working so hard!” she said. I tried explaining that in America we leave the heater on and the windows closed during bad winter weather. “It isn’t so bad,” she replied. “Put on thicker clothes, then.”

Well, this was not going to fly. I promptly closed the window, turned the heater on high and explained that not only was I freezing after sitting through a cold classroom, but I also have a circulatory medical condition that makes my hands and feet particularly susceptible to the cold- and hence I need my room to be warm. She shrugged and repeated her statements from earlier.

The next day, all was well until I returned from my class to find the window yet again open and the heater yet again turned off! I corrected the situation, again told Ivy that it would be best for the window to stay closed and the heater on, and suggested that if she really needs “fresh” air, she need only go outside. She told me the heater was tired and needed to rest, and suggested I add a sweater.

This back-and-forth continued every day for the next week. Clearly the method of civilized conversation was getting me nowhere, so I decided to move on to more drastic measures. Ivy usually kept the heater remote (which is difficult to use, being all in Chinese) on her desk. One day, when the weather was again bad, the window open, the heater off, and Ivy not in the room, I took the remote and put it on my desk shelf, next to the nail polish remover and the instant coffee. She wouldn’t find it, right? WRONG. The next day, the remote was back on her desk, and situations had not improved.

 

I tried hiding the remote again. And again. In my makeup bag? Found it. Behind the picture of me and friends at Red Rose Ball? Found it again. In the inner zipper pocket of my suitcase? She must have rummaged through my stuff pretty thoroughly, because she found it there too. It was getting bad, and the room was still cold.

So, I upped the game again. One drawer of my desk locks closed with my suitcase combination lock, and inside I keep such items as my American cash, health insurance info, passport, and nail file (couldn’t think of a better place for it). Monday afternoon, between spells of street food-induced nausea, I put the remote in there. On a whim. The room warmed up, and I was happy.

Ivy returned to the room late Monday night and woke me from my semi-ill slumber. I pretend to stay asleep as I heard her begin rummaging through my desk, opening drawers and zippers with reckless abandon. The girl is persistent! Eventually the noise died down, I fell back asleep, and the room stayed warm. Jessica: One, Ivy: Zero.

But it continues! This morning around 8 am, I was putting on mascara at my desk when Ivy opened the window. She then came up from behind me, tapped my shoulder, and asked: “Xia Xin, the air in here is not at all fresh, and the air conditioner needs to rest. We need to turn it off. Where is the heater remote?” I feigned ignorance and lack of Chinese ability. “I have it,” I replied with a sweet smile. “No, where is it?” she said. “Oh, don’t worry. It’s comfortable in here. The heater is good for my health!” She humphed and returned to her desk, muttering something about “rest” and “fresh air.” I again began to attempt to rationally explain the reasons why leaving the heater off and opening the window when it’s in the low 40s outside is not a great idea, but to no avail. Feeling pretty bad about all of this extreme passive-aggressive behavior later in the day, I pulled out the remote this afternoon and turned down the temperature several degrees- but still didn’t turn it off.

Fortunately, the Hangzhou weather forecast says that this week we might actually break into the 50s. If so, that would be amazingly balmy and I might just break out a green swimsuit for St. Patrick’s day. (You think I’m kidding.) If the weather does again take a turn for the worse and the sleet comes back, I’ll need all of the luck and well-wishing I can get as the heating wars rage on!

Wishing you all lots of love from Chinarrr,


Xia Xin (the bad, belated, passive-aggressive blogger)