A White Christmas in New York

The weather in New York is similar to what we get in Istanbul. Both cities are situated at the same latitude and have their weather modulated by large bodies of water. In summer, both cities swelter with humidity. The principle difference, however, is that in winter New York is considerably colder than Istanbul and enjoys a greater annual quantity of snow. This year, returning home to New York after an absence of over a year, my wife and I caught a glimpse of just how different a New York winter can be.

Although the rain can be dreary and the winds coming up off the Bosphorus uncomfortable, winter in Istanbul is hardly an endurance test--when I boarded a Turkish Airliner back to the US, the temperature was merely a brisk 5°C. I was, therefore, hardly prepared when, after clearing customs and gathering luggage, the ambient temperature outside JFK was an inhuman -6°C. To say that I had difficulty adjusting would be gross understatement. The wind knifed through my clothing straight to my bones.

We are spending this Christmas with my wife's family in the small town of Mendham, New Jersey, which is about an hour's train ride from Manhattan. My father-in-law has more than a sporting interest in the weather. He owns a Ford pick-up and a detachable snow plow, so when it snows, he stands to make money clearing driveways so that people can get out. He consults almanacs and avidly follows the weather channel. When he picked my wife and me up at the airport one of the first things that he told us was of a slight chance of snow due to a low pressure system moving up from the southern United States. The meteorologists predicted, however, that the storm would be driven out to sea. As our first few days passed the storm held course and the odds of our being hit increased by the hour until on December 18^th, the storm was dumping heavy amounts of snow over the Carolinas, Virginia and Washington DC and its arrival in the New York area became imminent.

The coming of a big snowstorm is an exciting event in New Jersey, especially when it falls close to the Christmas holiday. My wife and I were especially enthusiastic because we hadn't seen any snow in a few years and also because we had already invited a number of our friends to a Friday night party. Everyone stayed up most of the night talking, playing games and getting excited about the snow. After a leisurely midday breakfast the next day, the snow arrived right on schedule and began to fall at a respectable 3cm per hour. Because it was a Saturday afternoon and most of our friends lived some distance away, everyone decided to weather the storm at my in-laws.

That night, we all dressed warmly and went out in the thick of the blizzard. Visibility dropped to only a few meters as the strong winds blew the powdery flakes into our eyes. We brought all manner of implements for sledding-flat, saucer shaped disks and Styrofoam boards normally used at the beach. On the grounds of an elementary school not far from the house, we found a hill ideal for our endeavor. After a few messy trial runs necessary to pack down the snow, we all took turns slaloming down the hill into a pile of snow at the bottom. It was a classic setting. The trees were laced with white, the sky took on the bruised orange-purple typical of nighttime snow storms and the air had a muffled quality owing to the dampening effect created by so many flakes filling the air. We spent hours in the cold, grown people giggling like children playing games in weather that is becoming ever more rare in a warming world.

The storm left about 35cm of fresh powder in its wake. My wife's father cheerfully plowed all night and came home around noon to print out the invoices. The Mendham Township snow plows had the roads cleared by the late afternoon. Everywhere else enjoyed a thick coating, which, with several subsequent days of cold weather, lasted through the holidays, giving everyone the fabled "White Christmas."

A few days later, two days before Christmas, my wife's Uncle invited us, along with siblings, cousins and friends into Manhattan to enjoy the stereotypical New York Christmas. The weather was absolutely frigid, and the checkerboard pattern of New York's streets and avenues funneled the wind perfectly, creating a veritable wind tunnel that bored right into the sightseers. It made the elaborate window displays on Fifth Avenue no less impressive, however.

We joined the throngs of people lining up to file through Rockefeller Center to see the Christmas tree. The Rockefeller Tree is typically on the order of 20-30 meters tall and is harvested from the woods of the northern US or Canada. Decked with thousands of colored lights it stands over a small ice-skating rink at the center of the plaza. We stood around it taking pictures and watching skaters milling about on the ice before heading for Central Park where we enjoyed a carriage ride. Once inside the cart we gratefully accepted a fleece blanket from our driver, who explained to us the history of Central Park as we rolled slowly along its snow covered lanes with our teeth chattering in our heads.

I lived in Manhattan for two years and never took a carriage ride in all that time, preferring to walk or ride the subways like a true New Yorker. For a homesick expat, however, soaking up every last drop of home before my return to Istanbul, it could not have been a more perfect homecoming.