Opening Day! (of Allergy Season)

Friday night, I went over to my parents' place (because I like to party) and immediately started sneezing when I walked in the door. This isn't at all unusual -- my parents still have two dogs and a cat as a ploy to ensure I never, ever move back and only visit for short periods of time, sporadically at best.

The thing was, after I left, I didn't stop sneezing. Not in the few hours after, not the next day, nor the day after that. It just went on through the entire weekend. Now as I type, my eyes itch, my breathing is wheezy, and I have a box of Kleenex next to my desk. Hmm... it must be allergy season.

Oh joy.

Let me tell you, I absolutely love springtime. For anyone who lives in the Northeast, you know how great this time of year can be. The snow/sleet/rain/hail/ice cubes from heaven have stopped falling. You can't see your breath in the morning and you fingers don't feel like they're going to fall off in the time it takes to walk from your front door to your car.

Up here, spring is an event. People start wearing shorts and flip-flops once it hits 50, even though it's still probably about a month too early. Red Sox jerseys and sun dresses re-enter as wardrobe staples. Bikers pull their motorcycles from storage (note to Sonja: think how glorious it would be to take that first scooter ride of the season? Can I PLEASE get one?). Everyone gathers outside to hang out in driveways and on front porches while soaking in the sun's rays. It's glorious. It's a total "winter's over" reawakening, and I love it. I celebrate it. I flip-flop and short it. I even played nine holes on Saturday (so I could repeatedly four-putt it).

Everything would be perfect if I could just breathe.

My goodness, is this time of the year awful for fellow allergy sufferers. The majority of you won't get what I'm talking about, but with the flowers blooming and trees budding, it's like two weeks of hell on earth for people like me. The worst thing is that I shouldn't be outside, but it's so nice that I just can't avoid it. I want to swing the clubs. I want to run 15-20 miles a week. I want to go for walks downtown and sit on the side porch. And, ideally, I'd like to do it without feeling like my head is going to explode.

Still, it's a small price to pay for spring. See you out there! I'll be the guy with the surgical mask on.

Photo from Kleenex.com

"Asked a gas station employee if he ever had trouble breathing and he said, 'It varies from season to season.'"

Some musings on Beijing's famous smog...

When you tell people you're preparing for a trip, you generally get warnings based on where you're going.

"Watch out for pickpockets!"

"Get a malaria shot!"

"Bring Amodium!"

All that good stuff. When I was getting ready to come to Beijing, the one comment I received that far outweighed all the others was, "The pollution is terrible there! You can't even breathe! You won't be able to see your hand in front of your face! You'll die of asphyxiation as soon as you step off the plane!"

Turns out, those helpful tidbits were exaggerated... but only slightly. For a kid used to the clean, crisp air of New Hampshire's seacoast, the smog is freaking bad. I could see it the first night I arrived - a yellow haze that settled over the city and showed up like halos of cigarette smoke ringed around streetlights. That worried me.

But like anything else that makes travel difficult (exchange rates, language barriers, entry visas, ticket touts and overbearing Americans in fanny packs), you just learn to deal with it.

I, for one, turn it into a game. I call it "Where's Burns Manor?" Each morning, my alarm goes off and I throw it into the wall. 90 minutes later, I get up and walk across the 3 1/2 feet of tiled floor to my window and gaze out, trying to judge the smog levels for that day. One mile from here, there's a nuclear powerplant, that looks just like the one in Springfield (hence, Burns Manor). If I can see it clearly, it's a great day and the smog has disappeared overnight with no explanation or note - almost like a one-night stand sneaking out before breakfast and regret. If I can make out a shadowy outline, it's a typical day in Beijing; the smog is there when you wake up, like a good friend. On the days where I can't see Burns Manor at all (which is more often than not), it's a crappy, smoggy, hacking day and the clouds of pollution are like a suffocating relationship that you just want to get out of, but can't because you're trapped and smothered under a blanket of pain, tears and lost dreams.

Either way, you're in a relationship with the smog, whether you like it or not.

(Pictures 1&2 are from the fifth day of the trip, which was the clearest we've had. Incidentally, it's also the first day we figured out that a powerplant actually existed. The third shot is from yesterday, which was by far the worst day. Burns Manor should be where that giant cloud is on the right. Walking around the city yesterday felt like simultaneious onset of an asthma attack and a claustrophobic freakout. I need my inhaler.)

Since I'm here, I just have to deal with it. I did come somewhat prepared - stocked up on allergy meds (Claritin and Zyrtec), way-cool nose spray that goes perfectly with my headgear (Zycam), an over-the-counter inhaler and Chinese Airborne (Now, with 15% more lead!). All that's been working well with me and when the smog ups the ante to a higher thickness level, I just check-raise that sucker with more pills. Boo-yah.

There are other ways of coping, too. One is to just not go outdoors, which is a method some have taken - only the air conditioning here is just as bad for you and sitting in a dorm room is now way to travel. Others have taken to bringing face-masks (although, I haven't seen anyone in my group wear one). There are also more than a few PODs (Portable Oxygen Device) going around, too. These little cans of oxygen give you 40 breaths of clean, smog-free air per tube. I have one and I've been using it off-and-on. Have I seen a difference? Um, probably not... but it does give a psychological edge in the battle against smogification. And there are those that swear by them and trade them on the ex-pat black market like they were packs of cigs in federal prison.

I've been told that, eventually, you just get used to the air. The lack of sunlight stops bothering you and your lungs adjust. I hope so, because I've developed a sore throat for the past four days and sort of a dry hack of a cough on occasion. But at least I haven't resorted to the face mask. I'm just living for the next clear view of Burns Manor.

Maybe it'll be tomorrow.



(Image of the sun, over cypress trees at the Temple of Heaven, peeking through the smog at 4pm yesterday).