Hot Weather

Well, it’s hot. This week was the turning point. Even the locals are feeling it. I’m doing okay so far, but it is nice to have the air conditioning in our living room. I’m interested to see how much hotter it gets. And how deep into shock my body will go when I go home for Christmas!

We don’t have a thermometer—apparently they’re hard to find—what’s the point? is the general feeling, I guess. But you know North Americans—the difference between 31 degrees Celsius and 32 degrees is a difference worth knowing.

Every statistic on the weather I read before coming here, and even have seen locally, is blatantly understated. The hottest month is January, and in print the average high is something like 87 degrees Fahrenheit, while my colleagues swear it regularly gets up near 110. So I’ve been trying to figure out whether it’s a conspiracy by the tourist department, or whether the government invested in a small parcel of Icelandic or Antarctic property just to bring the national average down. That would be a good idea, don’t you think?

As you can see, I am caught in between Fahrenheit and Celsius. I’m in that confused no-man’s land, the same that I experience when looking at a road or trying to find the passenger’s side of a car. Growing up right next to Canada, I thought I was pretty comfortable with Celsius, but I realized today that I only know the equivalents of Pacific Northwest temperatures—11 degrees Celsius equals 52 degrees Fahrenheit. I’m lost up in the 20’s and 30’s!