Refrigeration Not Required

Shortly before I left for Romania, I had written a blog about the spell of cold weather that we had experienced the week before. I got caught up with packing and trip planning, however, and failed to add it on here before I left. Things have warmed up (slightly) since then, but it is still relevant enough that I figured I'd add it on today. So without further adieu...

December 20th, 2010

A few days ago, I made a stop by the Peace Corp medical office in Tirana to receive my seasonal flu shot. I have had several shots since I arrived in country, but all the others had been administered during the heat of summer when the logistical challenges associated with rolling up your sleeve are quite small. Winter gear, on the other hand, presents a couple new obstacles for this task. With that in mind, the medical officer indicated a chair where I could set my jacket when I walked into the room. Off came the jacket, but that was just the beginning of the fun. The next step was to unwrap my scarf. Then I took off my zippered sweater-jacket. That was followed by my long sleeved shirt and then my long underwear top. Finally, I was down to my short sleeved undershirt and was ready for business. The medical officer regarded the small mountain of clothes that I had shed with a smile and said, “It's cold, isn't it?”

Why yes, it is. Cold, I would go so far as saying, took on an entirely new meaning for me last week. Having lived through six winters in the mountains of Virginia, I thought that I had a pretty good idea of how a person goes about dealing with day to day life when temperatures start to drop. As cold as last week was (temperatures dropped below freezing in Pogradec early on Friday morning and didn't come out of it for any sustained period of time until Saturday... 8 days later), I've dealt with colder spells in the past.

There is an important distinction that needs to be made whenever a person talks about winters in America, however. “Wow, it's really cold!” doesn't adequately describe the situation. What you're almost always trying to say is, “Wow, it's really cold outside!” That may be, but once you get where you're going, you're probably walking into a 70 degree room and shedding your layers.

Not so in all places in the world. For example, when I returned to Pogradec the day after my shot, I shuffled/slid through the snow and ice covered streets of the city back to my apartment, which greeted me with the loving embrace of...

35 degrees. Actually, my thermometer is in Celsius, so the actual number displayed on the screen was 2.

Excuse me while I flex my beard.

After doing some quick figuring in my head (35 degrees inside... 20-some-odd degrees outside), I turned with some trepidation to my sink. I turned the faucet on and sure enough, a couple sad drips were followed by a lot of nothing.

There are some points in life when it is very helpful to take a step back and look at the whole picture. For me, standing in front of my then-decorative sink and watching my breath rise in heavy clouds was one of those moments. All in all, the checklist didn't look bad. My health was good. I had plenty of sweaters and blankets. I also had plenty of food. If I needed running water or a warm room, I had only to slide out my door to find both surrounding me. My job is endlessly interesting, my friends and family are amazing and... all in all, frozen pipes and a 35 degree house are nothing but great material for the grizzled old man stories that I'll get to tell the grandkids in 50 years. And, um, to blog about.

So I settled in on the couch, wrapped myself in a blanket, turned on the space heater, and let time march on. The confines of my apartment didn't top the 50 degree mark until the following Sunday, but there is a charm that comes with cozy sweaters, blankets, and big, hot mugs of tea that central heating just can't match. I won't go so far as to say that I plan to abandon modern heating technology when I return to the states (if for no other reason than showering in a 40 degree bathroom= NOT FUN ( = it doesn't happen too much)), but things could certainly be much worse.

Like, for example, if I lived in northern eastern Europe. To give that theory a run, three other volunteers and I are turning our backs on the Istanbuls, Sicilies, and Greeces that are calling away so many of our other friends for holiday vacations and will be heading up into the mountains of Romania on Wednesday. On the one hand, we'll probably run into a little bit of cold. On the other hand, how often do you get to spend your Christmas in Vlad Dracula's home town?