The Icy Winds of Winter?

Some things in Kazakhstan never cease to amaze me. With the onset of the November chill and early winter snows, the current issue on my mind is the lack of tolerance the locals possess with regards to cold weather. I find this particularly remarkable for two reasons: first, because I would have thought that people would get used to it after a while and second, because back in the US, I had a reputation in my family for being cold all the time. When I was little, I would often be found buried under two blankets on the couch or snuggling under a veritable mountain of covers in bed. Perhaps years of training living in an old, drafty house eventually got me up to snuff. Whatever the reason, my ability to deal with wintry weather seems to be miles ahead of just about everybody here.

As my second winter in Kazakhstan begins, this point has been hammered in again almost immediately. For the last few weeks, the weather in Zhezkazgan has hovered around the freezing point with the highs rising to the mid-30s on occasion and the lows at night dropping to the low 20s. It's certainly time to break out the winter jacket (don't you fret, mom), but it's not yet necessary to call in the cavalry: long underwear, heavy duty gloves, etc. Just today, I was walking to work enjoying the freshness of a winter morning without a hat. However, I left work with a colleague and the sight of my uncovered head was so distressing that she simply couldn't bear to see me without a hat, saying that the mere sight made her colder. In Peace Corps, I need to pick my battles; this time, I acquiesced, shaking my head.

This issue runs across ethnic lines. My current theory is that both Russians and Kazakhs insulate themselves from the cold to such a great degree that it effectively ruins their ability to become somewhat comfortable with lower temperatures. I've seen Kazakh infants dressed up in jackets and hats.....in May. Locals do not skimp on heating in most buildings and trains. Drew's school is somewhat reminiscent of a blast furnace, although in fairness Zhezkazgan's school #1 could be the greatest offender that I have encountered thus far. In my host family, the heating was so strong that I kept my window open almost the entire winter. I expected to sweat my way through Peace Corps under a sultry sun on the banks of the Niger River; I did not imagine that I would be sweltering even during the brutal steppe winter!