The kid’s grandma calls me and says Hairun has heat and that she will be staying there. How about if the kids stay there too? I say no, the kids will stay with me. She asks if I have heat, and i say not yet. She asks if I have food and I say, do not worry, the kids will have plenty of food.

If this sounds like the beginnings of a sci fi world disaster movie, fear not, it is not. It is just a day in November in Beijing with the relentless hospitality of a grandmother.

The apartment I live in is like most apartments in Beijing int that it has no independent heat. The heat is instead supplied by a citywide system that has a turn on date of November 15th. Some years they make it a bit earlier and because it’s a huge city not all complexes come online at the same time. The Hairun complex where the kids spend half their lives came on a few days early and was apparently nice and toasty.

I kind of like a cold bed as it seems to suit me more and more. If I get cold there is always a blanket to clutch. A blanket that is there every night even when you don’t need it.

I get home from work to find the reletless grandma sitting on the coach. She has brought over chicken wings and dumplings for the kids to eat. She has on three layers of pants. This is not an exaggeration and no, I am not counting her underwear. After I get home and she shows me all the food she brought she gets ready to leave. I ask if she wants to stay for dinner and she says no. She will take a bus back across town to Hairun. I crash for a bit on the coach while the kids play on their iPads. What day is it anyway, I think. Surely I will have heat soon.

I yell up at the kids to get ready. Time to go out for some dinner. And put on your jackets. It’s cold out there.

Heat