Fingers stiff and faces frozen into scowling death masks, my friend and I greeted one another like everyone does in Beijing these days, by talking about how cold we were. His knees were numb after cycling a few blocks in what felt like the worst day so far in this cold snap, officially minus 13 degrees but minus 25 with wind chill.
It has been below zero for nearly a fortnight now, and Beijingers say it has not been so cold in the city for at least a decade. I asked my friend how long it was going to go on.
“Until Chinese New Year,” he said. “Today is the Dongzhi festival and if it’s cold today it will be a cold New Year.”
Dongzhi, the winter solstice festival, marks the start of winter in China, and the cold weather traditionally peaks at New Year, which falls on February 10th next year. It seemed like a long time to wait for some respite and we exchanged strategies for surviving the next few weeks.
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I talked about buying one of the full-length down coats that everyone is wearing, although the last time I tried one on I looked like a giant sausage roll. He had a more ambitious plan: he had joined two dating apps and was working hard to find love in a cold climate.
In fact he was planning to go out the following night to check out some singles’ bars and wanted to know if I would join him. It was clear that my role was to be that of the plain friend who made him sparkle in comparison.
Matters of the heart were on my mind because I had just heard that a man I knew had parted from his wife after years of unhappiness together. I had only heard his side of the story but if it was a fair account it was a marvel that the marriage had survived for so long.
He and his wife lived in Beijing, where he worked at every kind of odd job, as a driver, a delivery man and a handyman. Their six year-old son lived with his parents a few hours away, an arrangement he and his wife agreed to be in the child’s best interest.
We had met once through a mutual friend, and when I needed someone to help me hang some pictures I got in touch with him. He did the job on a Sunday morning but to my embarrassment he refused to take any payment on the grounds that we were friends. He agreed to let me buy him lunch but all he wanted was some melon, telling me his wife did not allow him to eat it at home. It turned out that this was one of many rules she laid down for him, complete with a system of enforcement.
She didn’t work and seldom left their apartment but she insisted that he should commit in advance to being home at a particular time despite the unpredictable nature of his work. If he told her about a change of plan before 2pm, he had to pay her RMB500 (€64) but if it was later the fine went up to RMB800 (€102).
He told me that over the years he had lost interest in the intimate dimension of their marriage and that she had suggested he should pay a fine on account of that too. Despite everything they remained together and it looked to his friends that he would spend the rest of his life complaining about his lot but doing nothing about it.
But two months ago, when his father was ill in hospital, he walked into the ward to find his wife shouting angrily at the old man as he lay in bed. Something snapped within him and he told her that evening that he could not live with her any longer and that he wanted a divorce. She said she would only divorce him in return for a generous financial settlement but she left Beijing and went home to live with her mother. He is still sounding defiant, determined that he will never go back to his old life or pay another yuan in fines for staying out late with his friends.