The highs and lows of north carolina
By Patricia Okwueze
I often take pride in being born and raised in New York City—besides the crowded train stations and our problematic mayor. From my childhood to today, I take joy in the cultural diversity, the innovative artistic modes of expression, and, most importantly, the weather.
My adolescence was full of snowy days in the Bronx, where I sat and prayed for school to be canceled. While we didn’t have the privilege of making snowmen or snow angels (due to the snow’s odd tendency to quickly turn black and poop-ridden), I loved the cold. The feeling of its chill and the freshness of its crisp, freezing air brought me an internal warmth that I always looked forward to when the season changed.
Coming to North Carolina, if I’m being completely candid, both terrified and excited me. My siblings and I often talked about which states we might want to live in someday, and North Carolina was always my sister's top choice. With that in mind, I was excited to see the state's appeal. At the same time, I dreaded the guaranteed humidity and sweat that would follow.
As much as I tried to convince myself otherwise, my concerns became a reality. I spent orientation week changing t-shirts every few hours to conceal sweat stains and I ran to the nearest sanctions of shade at every opportunity. I was surprised when, in September, students were still able to walk outside in shorts; I could go out with my friends at night and gladly leave my heavy sweaters behind.
But this year feels different.
The week of October 14th, I woke up celebrating that the weeks of rain had finally said goodbye to us Duke students. I looked at the rays of sunlight hitting my dorm room floor and got ready, leaving my umbrella and jacket behind. However, once I stepped outside of the Crowell doors, a breeze hit my face so violently I had to squint my eyes. In less than 3 minutes, I walked up the stairs, reentered my room, switched my jeans for sweatpants and grabbed my hoodie out of my closet. While 50 degrees never shocked me back home, this sudden switch shook my system. My internal warmth never activated like it usually did in New York, and I was left a shivering, teeth-chattering mess.
This year has been the most erratic from the standpoint of weather in North Carolina. August greeted students with the ever-so-dreaded sweat, sun-abused squinted eyes, and harsh sock and tank top tan lines. Lines for water in Wu filled and the gardens were covered with picnic blankets. Then, hurricane after hurricane passed through the state and we were once again reminded of Duke’s horrible drainage system as Abele Quad flooded and students leapt over puddles of rainwater and mud. Just when we assumed the worst was over, it became colder than usual and we carried sweaters to class (shoutout to the winter coats that were brought out as well).
As much as I miss New York’s weather, my body has adjusted to the warmth of North Carolina. Instead of looking forward to the snow and brisk winds of the North, now I look forward to the warm autumns of the South. North Carolina seems to be getting colder earlier. I did not pack many winter clothes this year, a lesson learned from last. Next year I just might have to.
Hopefully, the weather won’t change too much by next fall…
