Nanjing is not a very cold city, at least not in absolute terms. It is called one of the “three ovens of China” and this title is deserved. Yet over the past month, I’ve been sick far more often than I’ve been well, and on many days have had some difficulty feeling my fingers and toes. The problem is both political and geographic. At some point, I don’t know when, it was decided that buildings constructed south of the Yangzi River would have no central heating systems. It just so happens that Nanjing lies entirely on the Chāng Jiāng’s southern banks. Although, at a guess, the average temperature here has to be at least ten degrees Fahrenheit higher than Boston’s, the cold is a low intensity sort of relentless when it comes. In Boston, during the winter months, people scurry for warmth: at home, in cars, or at work. It isn’t like that here. Although where I live isn’t that cold (my circuit breakers are close to maxed out on space heaters), it’s never really warm. And in the last house I visited, I kept my coat on at all times-as did the residents. In the university classrooms, it’s no different. If you’re from New England, the closest feeling that I can compare it to is standing around in your garage in late March-it’s not freezing, but it’s that same sort of finger-stiffening raw cold that stays with you long after you’ve begun to warm up. The only difference is that here, you don’t really warm up until the weather does. I’m not complaining about the weather, not at all. Such are the vagaries of the Almighty. But I am complaining about central planning. I teach at a university campus that is about five years old. Correspondingly, its buildings are all new. Yet recently, in the men’s restroom, I blinked several times as I saw my piss steam as it hit the water in the hole. I’m sorry, but that’s just not necessary. Everybody puts up with it remarkably well, wearing their parkas, mittens, and hats as they sit in class, eat, study, and watch TV. And each cold day, without fail, I have to ask some student who looks like he’s heading for the North Pole exactly why he felt compelled to open the window next to him as wide as he possibly could. I never get an answer, although I am genuinely curious. I think that it may be for the fresh air, although I can’t quite believe it. I thought that the worst had passed-last week was as pleasant as spring. But, for better or for worse, I’m finding that the weather here is proving to be much like Boston’s in its unpredictable behavior. Whether or not this will prove to be good or bad remains to be seen.