Reaching temperatures of -12°C, the boreal winter I spent in Beijing was quite a departure from the mild southern Californian climate to which I had become accustomed. Yet I'm having more difficulties adjusting to the (relatively benign) cold in southern China than I did enduring the glacial winds* of Beijing. I attribute this to the perpetual damp, and to the poor (i.e. non-existent) insulation of the buildings here. My attempts to cope with the chill have grown increasingly drastic. After having started out by warming my bed with an electric blanket, I moved onto the Super Blanket. The Super Blanket is basically a blanket of abnormal thickness and heft, yet it's also surprisingly soft! Constructed entirely of synthetic fibers (probably a very nice polyester), the Super Blanket is completely impermeable to air, and thus traps the heat from both my body and the electric blanket.
The Super Blanket solved all the insulation needs of my body, but in the mornings my nose, which must remain outside the Blanket for reasons explained above, was icy to the touch. Danny suggested that I use one the space heaters to warm the air in my room to keep my nose from freezing. Keeping the heater on the floor beside my bed worked marginally well, but because it was hard to angle it for maximum efficiency, I ended up with the heater on my bed.
Then this week in the middle of the night I awoke to the strange smell of something burning. Fearing my sheets were on fire, I was energized by a sudden surge of adrenaline and shot up out of my bed to examine my blankets. Finding nothing, I inspected the heater itself, and found that the vent and the bottom panel had melted. I tried to turn off the machine via the buttons, but when pressed, they yielded to my touch, since they too were on the verge of melting. After unplugging it, the epinephrine began to wear off, and I noticed a bothersome headache. The melting plastic was no doubt releasing all manner of carcinogens into my room, so I placed it in outside and returned to bed, hoping that the throbbing sensation in my skull would abate in my sleep. No luck: when I woke up, it was still hurting. CarbonMonoxideKills.com notes that "Early symptoms of CO poisoning [include] headaches, nausea, and fatigue," and I was definitely experiencing symptoms one and three. I spent most of the day enduring these ailments until Danny and I took a walk to the market; the fresh air was likely the agent of my recovery.
Lesson: Be wary of the safety features of products made in China intended for domestic consumption.
Bonus Lesson: Keep space heaters on the floor, and out of your bed.
*I once told Linda that the sensation of a strong, nighttime Beijing wind breaching five layers of heavy, winter clothing is not unlike "being stabbed by a thousand frozen needles all over your body."
No comments:
Post a Comment