Walking In Wuhan

At home, there are invariably certain events that signal the coming of spring and summer. In February, it's pitchers and catchers reporting to spring training. In March, spring break and baseball mean winter is most likely dead. The final death knell for Old Man Winter comes when UPS drivers shed their cumbersome heavy brown pants and let their pasty white calves meet the open air. To many, baseball, hatching chicks and white legs are a sign of rebirth and renewal.

In China, a similar phenomenon is at play. Many locals in Wuhan will tell you that the city has two seasons, winter and an unbearably hot summer. We've experienced both. The winter was warmer than in Nebraska, but the summers are terrible -- I think it was 99 degrees with about 90 percent humidity the day we arrived and stayed that way for a week. So, if some people -- specifically men -- are forced to venture out into the oven-like temperatures, they'll usually roll their shirts up, exposing their stomachs to keep cool.

So imagine, walking down the street, seeing Chinese men of all ages with their shirts rolled, folded and scrunched up to just below nipple-level to beat the heat. The bare bellies disappeared in late September once temperatures dropped a bit and went away for winter. But like Punxsutawney Phil, the guts have begun to make their seasonal appearances.

Bring on spring.