Russia is a stuffy place. We may disagree on our ideal room temperature, but if there is one thing that Americans don't like, it is a hot, stuffy room or car. The minute the air gets stale and heavy, we open the windows or crank on the AC. But this is not so in Russia. Everything is stifling and airless. This surprised me at first; Russia is famous for being a cold country, after all. It would seem that Russians would be hardened to the cold and not mind a pleasant chill or a fresh breeze.
Russians, however, are terrified of drafts and chilliness, and they prefer a much higher room temperature that most Americans can tolerate. The "healthy" room temperature here is considered to be 23 or 24 Celsius--that's 72 to 75 Fahrenheit. My parents always kept the thermostat at 66F and turned it down to 62 at night; that really makes for brisk winter mornings! Russians, however, start complaining of cold long before I've even noticed a chill, and they take extra precautions to ensure that they don't get cold. Today, it was about 50F, and people were walking around in winter coats with scarves and hats. I don't understand how they weren't dying--I was warm riding the bus in my spring jacket.
There is an explanation for this Russian fear of cold. Russians believe that cold air is a direct cause of illness. My host mom would always scold me for leaving the apartment with "my throat open" (not wearing a scarf) because that will cause a sore throat or a cold (never got one). Or people will immediately protest if someone opens a window on a stifling bus because it will make everyone sick (I feel like the cesspool of germ-filled stale air is probably more dangerous if you want to get technical). Russians strongly adhere to the belief that if your feet get cold, you will get a cold; someone explained to me that there is a direct connection between the nerves in your feet and the nerves in you lungs, and that is the cause for this propensity to illness. I'd be interested to know what the American Medical Association thinks about that.
The most dangerous of all, however, are drafts. My Russian teacher once explained to me how dangerous her apartment is because the desk in her room is positioned on a direct line between two windows. If they are both open, she immediately gets a cold. The cause? The air is moving in two directions and is entering the apartment from both windows, and that is somehow dangerous. Of course, the laws of air pressure would dictate that it's impossible for air to be entering the apartment from both windows at the same time without somewhere else for it to go, but, logic notwithstanding, my teacher insisted that she can always tell instantly when someone opens another window. This draft problem also happens in cars. It's OK to have one window open, but having two windows open at the same time is extremely dangerous. My teacher said that she and her family can't travel long distances in their car in the summer because it gets too hot, which is a problem because she would like to visit relatives in far-away cities. Making the drive bearable by opening the windows, however, is off the table: Her elderly mother can't take the chance of getting sick.
Now that I live on my own, I can freely open the windows and relish a fresh breeze without worrying about impending doom. But I still get a lot of complaints if I open a window or turn on the air conditioner while I'm teaching (it gets mighty stuffy and smelly in a small room with 13 people). Oh Russia.
Russians, however, are terrified of drafts and chilliness, and they prefer a much higher room temperature that most Americans can tolerate. The "healthy" room temperature here is considered to be 23 or 24 Celsius--that's 72 to 75 Fahrenheit. My parents always kept the thermostat at 66F and turned it down to 62 at night; that really makes for brisk winter mornings! Russians, however, start complaining of cold long before I've even noticed a chill, and they take extra precautions to ensure that they don't get cold. Today, it was about 50F, and people were walking around in winter coats with scarves and hats. I don't understand how they weren't dying--I was warm riding the bus in my spring jacket.
There is an explanation for this Russian fear of cold. Russians believe that cold air is a direct cause of illness. My host mom would always scold me for leaving the apartment with "my throat open" (not wearing a scarf) because that will cause a sore throat or a cold (never got one). Or people will immediately protest if someone opens a window on a stifling bus because it will make everyone sick (I feel like the cesspool of germ-filled stale air is probably more dangerous if you want to get technical). Russians strongly adhere to the belief that if your feet get cold, you will get a cold; someone explained to me that there is a direct connection between the nerves in your feet and the nerves in you lungs, and that is the cause for this propensity to illness. I'd be interested to know what the American Medical Association thinks about that.
The most dangerous of all, however, are drafts. My Russian teacher once explained to me how dangerous her apartment is because the desk in her room is positioned on a direct line between two windows. If they are both open, she immediately gets a cold. The cause? The air is moving in two directions and is entering the apartment from both windows, and that is somehow dangerous. Of course, the laws of air pressure would dictate that it's impossible for air to be entering the apartment from both windows at the same time without somewhere else for it to go, but, logic notwithstanding, my teacher insisted that she can always tell instantly when someone opens another window. This draft problem also happens in cars. It's OK to have one window open, but having two windows open at the same time is extremely dangerous. My teacher said that she and her family can't travel long distances in their car in the summer because it gets too hot, which is a problem because she would like to visit relatives in far-away cities. Making the drive bearable by opening the windows, however, is off the table: Her elderly mother can't take the chance of getting sick.
Now that I live on my own, I can freely open the windows and relish a fresh breeze without worrying about impending doom. But I still get a lot of complaints if I open a window or turn on the air conditioner while I'm teaching (it gets mighty stuffy and smelly in a small room with 13 people). Oh Russia.
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