Jessai Flores

There is the joke among Northerners that Southern kids, like me, cannot handle the cold. Some of this is true. My first year, I did not have snow shoes because I thought it was ridiculous to have to spend money on something I could only wear once or twice — and then I fell down the stairs. The snow I had crushed with the bottom of my Oxford shoes had melted and refrozen so that the steps inside of Welch Hall became the world’s worst toboggan chute. Bruised tailbones aside, you would be surprised at how prepared Southerners are for the bitter Connecticut winters. So, when the recent mass of arctic air settled upon New Haven, I was not only prepared because of my now three winters in the North, but because Southerners, Texans in particular, are made of a special type of brass.

Picture this: It is early February and the temperatures drop below zero. It is so cold that the air is like thorns on exposed flesh. The wind is so strong that it rattles the skeletons of frozen trees, warps window panes as if they were made of plastic and sears the corners of your ears. This was what New Haven was like earlier this month during the arctic blast, but it is also weather that is now — thanks to climate change — not too uncommon in Texas. Growing up in the Dallas area, January or February brings a blast of frosty weather that ices over the roads, downs power lines and locks down the city all together. In fact, the weather gets so violently cold that our senators take extended vacations to Cancun where it is warmer and people there do not know them well enough to despise them the way Texans do — with gritted teeth and fake hospitality. Sweet tea anyone? That aside, these repeated experiences with cold snaps work wonders for one’s tolerance and preparedness for Northern winters.

I now get used to the cold very fast. For example, once I wore a thin cardigan around campus when the weather was just ten degrees. Do I recommend it? No. It was not very fun, but I — like any Texan — am daring and do things my own way. I willed myself to get used to the cold because I simply could not walk around and let Northerners know that their winters are too harsh for me. They are, but I will not let it show on my pale, wind-whipped face. I even walked all the way to Walgreens for soap while I wore an ill-fitting coat and a mustard yellow sweater. Was I cold? Absolutely. My ears hurt. It was nine degrees. But did I look good? Of course. I looked swell.

Still, the best thing to do when the weather gets dangerously cold is to stay home. Do not do what I did and make the trip to Mecha Noodle Bar. Their spicy beef ramen is fantastic, but probably not worth risking the loss of one of your ears or fingers to frostbite. Okay, maybe it was worth it. Hot and spicy broth and noodles on a cold day warms you up so fast. I walked all the way home with fire — ramen, it was the ramen — in my belly. Still, stay home. 

When Texas freezes over, everyone stays home. We watch television, play video games, and call friends over the telephone. You can do the same in New Haven. In fact, that is what I did during the cold snap whenever I was not risking my life to go get noodles or soap.

New Haven winters are brutal, but once you survive enough of them they become less like incidents of mortal peril and more like obstacles. Your first New Haven winter, after a life spent in the South, is like fighting a dragon. Your third New Haven winter is more like coming across a closed sidewalk. It is annoying, but it will not kill you. At least I hope it doesn’t. 

Winter is coming to an end. I can already feel the sun getting just a tad bit warmer. The worst is over, save for if one of those big, late-March snowstorms rolls around. Speaking of which, where was the snow this winter? Definitely not here. Perhaps that is what made this winter feel so much like home, but like any Southern or Texan winter, it is best not to underestimate how quickly the winds can change. Judging from how warm the weather is starting to become, let us hope the winds change for the better.

JESSAI FLORES