How can kids play outside at -34? And is weather in the mind?
At -34C children in Roros, Norway, still go outside and play, according to this article.
Now I am trying to get some perspective here.
The coldest I have ever experienced was -10 in Canada, and the intensity of such cold is burnt/frozen into my memory — so how can children play in -34? I have to assume it is in their genes and that the preparation begins before they’re born, but would welcome some insights. I am speaking from a personal experience of life at -10 at one extreme and +45C at the other, and most of the time acquainted with between 10 and 25.
The experiences of Shackleton and other polar explorers fascinate me precisely because I can’t even get out of bed if it’s under 8, let alone imagine how they endured stretches in the coldest conditions known to man. (Going against the genetic theory: I did not inherit my father’s stoicism or my mother’s imperviousness to cold) Anyway, back in Canada …
It had been getting progressively and predictably cooler through the autumn and apart from a thoroughly unpleasant moment at a hilltop lookout in a chilly wind I had been doing OK. I had thermals, fleece, a coat, gloves, ear muffs and a tight-fitting hat. But the air that hit my face on opening the door to -10 seared like a knife. Obviously people there just get used to it — in that part of Ontario they boast that it reaches -30 in winter, and expect to be admired for their stoutness (as in stout resistance). But I come from a temperate climate where over 30 was unusual in my childhood and a maximum of 5 on a winter’s day in the very south of New Zealand (with heavy frosts) was defined as cold. We biked to school bare-legged on all but the iciest mornings — school uniform was a tunic and blouse with ankle socks — but had to fight for space at the heaters to thaw our fingers out before we could even hold a pencil, and some children got chilblains.
Buildings were draughty, and the attitude of our elders was stoic: don’t be a sissy. The Norwegian kids of the article I mentioned (pic found at the home of Norwegian Steroge)
A few years later I found myself living in Melbourne, Australia, where I endured my unhappiest winter ever in 1974. The temperatures were probably unremarkable but my memory of that June and July is totally dominated by a southerly wind experienced while waiting for the tram to work. Is weather in the mind? The upshot of each miserable morning was lunchtimes spent in Myer Foodhall sampling every fatty food I could cram in but favouring the nuts … until (then) hubby and I decided to flee north in August.
Having been told by a Myer department store medical examiner before I even began the job there that I was overweight, I had not only been depressed, bored, ostracised, cold, hungry and frustrated but humiliated as well. ~ ~ ~ But going back to the kids playing in -34: the ability to endure these extremes must be inherited through generations, is it?
I am asking anyone who knows and has experienced it, particular those forced to adapt to brutally different conditions. I now live in a climate where many people hunch their shoulders, cross their arms and motion about coldness when it is as warm as 18 degrees. And as I was buying a top the other day at the same old Myer department store chain (different branch, thank God), the assistant commented on how cool and suitable the fabric would be for summer “if summer ever comes”.
It was about 28 outside at the time, and I had water pouring down my back.
What’s more I can’t sleep most nights because the temperature doesn’t cool down and the heat is sticky. That, in fact, is why I’m even writing this now: because I can’t sleep for the oppressive, windless heat we’re experiencing here, day and night!
The coldest I have ever experienced was -10 in Canada, and the intensity of such cold is burnt/frozen into my memory — so how can children play in -34? I have to assume it is in their genes and that the preparation begins before they’re born, but would welcome some insights. I am speaking from a personal experience of life at -10 at one extreme and +45C at the other, and most of the time acquainted with between 10 and 25.
The experiences of Shackleton and other polar explorers fascinate me precisely because I can’t even get out of bed if it’s under 8, let alone imagine how they endured stretches in the coldest conditions known to man. (Going against the genetic theory: I did not inherit my father’s stoicism or my mother’s imperviousness to cold) Anyway, back in Canada …
It had been getting progressively and predictably cooler through the autumn and apart from a thoroughly unpleasant moment at a hilltop lookout in a chilly wind I had been doing OK. I had thermals, fleece, a coat, gloves, ear muffs and a tight-fitting hat. But the air that hit my face on opening the door to -10 seared like a knife. Obviously people there just get used to it — in that part of Ontario they boast that it reaches -30 in winter, and expect to be admired for their stoutness (as in stout resistance). But I come from a temperate climate where over 30 was unusual in my childhood and a maximum of 5 on a winter’s day in the very south of New Zealand (with heavy frosts) was defined as cold. We biked to school bare-legged on all but the iciest mornings — school uniform was a tunic and blouse with ankle socks — but had to fight for space at the heaters to thaw our fingers out before we could even hold a pencil, and some children got chilblains.
Buildings were draughty, and the attitude of our elders was stoic: don’t be a sissy. The Norwegian kids of the article I mentioned (pic found at the home of Norwegian Steroge)
A few years later I found myself living in Melbourne, Australia, where I endured my unhappiest winter ever in 1974. The temperatures were probably unremarkable but my memory of that June and July is totally dominated by a southerly wind experienced while waiting for the tram to work. Is weather in the mind? The upshot of each miserable morning was lunchtimes spent in Myer Foodhall sampling every fatty food I could cram in but favouring the nuts … until (then) hubby and I decided to flee north in August.
Having been told by a Myer department store medical examiner before I even began the job there that I was overweight, I had not only been depressed, bored, ostracised, cold, hungry and frustrated but humiliated as well. ~ ~ ~ But going back to the kids playing in -34: the ability to endure these extremes must be inherited through generations, is it?
I am asking anyone who knows and has experienced it, particular those forced to adapt to brutally different conditions. I now live in a climate where many people hunch their shoulders, cross their arms and motion about coldness when it is as warm as 18 degrees. And as I was buying a top the other day at the same old Myer department store chain (different branch, thank God), the assistant commented on how cool and suitable the fabric would be for summer “if summer ever comes”.
It was about 28 outside at the time, and I had water pouring down my back.
What’s more I can’t sleep most nights because the temperature doesn’t cool down and the heat is sticky. That, in fact, is why I’m even writing this now: because I can’t sleep for the oppressive, windless heat we’re experiencing here, day and night!

