If you’re in the typical Chinese apartment, you do not have control over the heating system and if you work in a Chinese office, you, the foreigner, have no control over the heat or the AC (and very little else, for that matter). The heat is officially turned on one day in November, and snapped off on another day in March. They’re usually the 15th of each month, but can vary a bit, I understand, from region to region. If you’re lucky, you live in a building which “tests the system” as early as October 31, which means your radiator pipes might belch forth a tiny amount of heat before mid-November. The dates are firm, and you will not get heat at any other time, even if there’s a blizzard dropping two meters of snow right outside your window.
One thing to note: there’s no thermostat. You don’t control the heat: it controls you. You either have it or you don’t. Your apartment might be very cold, while the person in the apartment next to you is so hot that they have to keep all the windows open at night. Appeals to the maintenance workers are useless. The concept of “controlling the heat” is not really a part of the design in most buildings, although privately held apartments or very expensive housing might allow climate control.
Also, there is no heat in State-owned apartments and buildings south of the Yangtze. The most horrible weekends of my life have been spent in Wuhan, which sits astride the country’s longest river, in February, guest-lecturing at a university. On both occasions, it snowed like hell, and I stood on a cement platform in a cement building with my down coat, fur-lined boots, gloves, hat, muffler, merino long johns and other gear shaking with the cold in front of blue-faced students who couldn’t even take notes as the ink had frozen in their pens. Yes, this was in pre-laptop days.
Another thing to note, which may well spare your sanity: many air conditioners have a “heat” setting which you can use to ameliorate the conditions. Not all have this feature, but if you can choose an air conditioner with a heating option, do so: you will not be sorry, although you may find that your electric bill skyrockets as a result. I’m not complaining about the heating situation here – it’s just the way it is – and I’m grateful that I no longer live in a little place heated by a tiny stove which burned wee round bricks of compacted coal dust. Just be warned, that’s all. Everybody wears long underwear, even in the stylish places, so pack a set if you’re coming any time between October and April.
As for the warmer months, well, there’s a week when it transitions from being cold and unpleasant to being hot and unpleasant. It is called spring. It usually comes with dust storms, if you live in Beijing, and it is just after the last dust storm that you will find out if your Chinese coworkers like you or not: if you share an office, do not expect the temperature on the AC to drop below 25 degrees C, aka super stuffy. I worked in a publishing company staffed by weight-conscious people one year and found they had the charming principle of never using the AC, reasoning that staying cool burnt up calories and sweating led to removal of excess fluid in the body. Sweltering in heat and humidity was an inexpensive and patriotic way of keeping their weight down. Never mind the blurry manuscripts wet with sweat: the editors thought they looked good, damn it! It should be noted that I did not last long in that position.
This post is inspired by the fact that it’s autumn, and the maintenance workers decided that last night, around midnight, it was time to start testing the heating system. The resulting shrieks and moans and rattling of pipes kept me and the two furry morons I live with awake for several hours. I am going to volunteer in an unheated building in the middle of nowhere today. Despite the fact it’s shaping up to be another fairly warm day, I will be in a tiny north-facing room with cement floors, and I have already laid out my Arctic business outfit: merino wool long johns, fur-lined boots and all. Le chic, that is not me, but at least I won’t be shivering.
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