The Mercy of Snowboots

For Christmas this year I asked for snowboots, sweaters and warm socks. This was more providential than I could have anticipated as the past week and a half in Klaipeda (indeed in all of Central and Eastern Europe) have been the coldest in half a century. Temperatures have been far, far below 0 Celcius – about -20 or so, with windchills that make it feel like -30 (aprox -18 or -19 Farenheit). I should be thankful - and am - that I'm not in Georgia (in the Caucausas) where Russia has cut off oil supplies and the entire country except for parts of the capital, Tblisi, is without power and electricity.

I’m not sure I can even articulate the depth and seriousness of this kind of cold. Your abdominal muscles clench as you try to breathe, any exposed skin quickly looses sensation. At a certain point, it doesn’t matter how cold it is because you can’t feel anything anyway. I am not unfamiliar with this kind of cold – heck, in college I took a ski class at night, in January, in Minnesota. But, the main difference here is the fact that so much time is spent outdoors, waiting for busses, trekking home, trekking to the store, etc. In the States, the extent of our exposure is that lung-shattering jaunt from the warm car to the warm foyer or garage. No garages here. No cars. Just my new boots, knee-high socks, silk long johns that I don’t think I’ve taken off in a week, flannel pajamas, two duvets on my bed, and constant infusions of herbal tea.

Finally, today it’s a balmy zero degrees Celcius. I think I’ll go for a nice long walk!