In most countries the first balmy days of the year are greeted, if not with rapture, with a satisfied sigh as one anticipates summer and all the good things that season brings. This is not the case in China. When the warm spring winds arrive, our normally fresh-air loving neighbours batten down the hatches, seal all leaky windows and doors as best they can, and withdraw glumly into their secured cocoons. At first this behaviour seems very odd to the foreigner who watched entire families dine on their balcony clad in parkas and red long johns (I KNOW the underwear is red!) during some very chilly days in January. As I said, the Chinese love nothing if not fresh air. Why the sudden change in attitude toward the elements?
Steve and I discerned the answer on our first balmy spring day a couple of weeks ago. When descending from the 7th floor of our apartment building down the polished granite stairs that are standard in all buildings in China, we noticed that our feet were getting steadily wetter and by the 1st floor we were splashing through veritable puddles. Had the building cleaner become negligent and failed to mop thoroughly after washing the stairs? Or were we observing a natural phenomenon that makes the onset of spring in this part of the tropics a nightmare for Chinese and foreigners alike? Unfortunately, the latter was the case. Imagine an environment where all buildings are constructed of granite and tile with no insulation in the walls and leaky single pane windows. Now take these granite and tile structures and cool them for a couple of months to a chilly 9oC (cool enough to warrant dressing for bed in thermal underwear and a wool hat – remember, there’s no heat in this cold box, and no insulation); then overnight douse these buildings in moisture-laden air of a sultry 21oC, and you can create a swimming pool of condensation! You can’t defy the laws of physics!
Fortunately, Steve and I are still spry enough that we are able to remain upright (at least while sober!) as we daily negotiate the plethora of slippery surfaces we encounter nowadays – our apartment floor, the stairs, all the corridors at school (which are exposed to the elements and cleverly constructed of tile) and our very own classrooms. Gone are the days when we could incorporate ‘run to the board’ activities in the daily teaching agenda. Indeed, everyone moves in slow motion at this time of year but there are falls and broken limbs in spite of this. Broken bones are associated with spring in China in the way we associate them with the ski season in the Pacific Northwest. Indeed, on day one of the ‘slippery season’ we learnt that one teacher and one student in a neighbouring school had succumbed and were both now sporting plaster casts on their arms - and that was just the beginning!
Several weeks into the season, Steve and I have adapted in the manner of seasoned travellers. We now keep our air conditioner set on ‘dehumidify’ at a comfortable 30oC and this has reduced the layer of moisture on the apartment floor, although it hasn’t done much to dry the perennially damp bathroom towels and bedding. Drying laundry has moved from an outdoor occupation to an indoor obsession. My days are spent rotating washed items onto and off our 2ftX2ft electric radiator and fearing for the elastic in my underwear – surely direct heat can’t be increasing its lifespan? And, like our Chinese neighbours, we’ve learnt to seal every crevice in our cold box to keep that nasty warm air out!
However, there are some that love this season and the humid climate it brings. Our feathered friends are not disturbed by slippery surfaces and are in raptures over the newly hatched insect population. Their joyful song is a balm for the ears. And the newly planted trees on campus are wriggling their roots into moist soil and preparing to wow us with spring blossoms. The Chinese are amazing gardeners and really know their soil and local growing conditions. In early January holes were dug all over campus and allowed to soak up the winter rains prior to being filled just this past week with mature root ball trees trucked in from a local nursery. These are big trees – probably 10-20 years old and they look extremely healthy. March 12th was China’s annual National Tree Planting Day and an entire afternoon was spent by workers and students alike ensuring that the 50-odd holes around campus were suitably filled with vegetation, from mature trees to good-sized bushes – what a fantastic tradition.
I will close with my conclusions on the weather of Guangdong province since weather seems to be an international obsession and my observations may be useful to any blog readers who are considering a trip down here.
Seasons in Guangdong Province:
July to late October – the sweaty season
November – the perfect month
December – February – the ‘red long john’ season
March – the slippery season
April – June – yet to be experienced, but my guess is warm and damp and filled with tropical colour and butterflies.
Steve will inform me, no doubt, if my weather guess for late spring is correct. As many of you know, come May I will be flying north to inspect bluebells and hawthorn hedges in England and will possibly never return for any season in China, especially the ‘slippery season’!
