AsiaLIFE

Will finds himself being left out in the cold as the long winter nights draw in, and his wife finds him less than electric.

Oregon has a reputation, among Cambodians and everyone else, of being a beautiful place. It has soaring mountain peaks, lush forests and stunning waterfalls. But the climatic conditions that grant the state so much beauty also grant it a cold, damp climate for much of the year. For the five months of winter, much of Oregon resides in a grey, sunless existence — no snow, no sun, just a dreary constant drizzle.

Now many locals think this is a perfectly reasonable situation, living without sun for so long only makes you appreciate the summer that much more. Immigrants from Cambodia and other sunny locales generally disagree. Temperatures that I consider T-shirt weather, are cold enough to freeze a native of Indochina. Other than giving tropical transplants an opportunity to become as pale as possible, they're miserable, my wife included. It's not as easy as just cranking up the heat. Setting the thermostat to replicate a balmy day in Cambodia sent our electric bill to levels only seen in U.N.-funded development programmes. Especially when your wife reacts to temperatures in the Celsius teens by turning the heater to maximum and trying to build a little tent around the vent.

Sadly, being a journalist doesn't leave much for luxuries like extra electricity, or at least paying for it. And a few electric shocks from that all-American 110 volt power is enough to convince any inept hobbyists like myself not to try to steal it. Other options didn't pan out as hoped. Despite former President Jimmy Carter's recommendations, one can wear only so many sweaters. And the Snuggie, a blanket with sleeves that has become the symbol of America's Great Recession, is just that: a blanket with sleeves. It's about as comfortable and flattering as any blanket with sleeves can be.

Loving Words

Every culture has its own way of expressing affection, and sometimes these are open to bizarre cross-cultural misunderstandings. The French endearment “ma biche” can be confused by Americans as having a far more derogatory implications. Americans occasionally refer to an annoying, but adorable child as a bugger — which means something very, very different to British ears.

For Cambodians, your true love — the one who holds you tight on cold nights — is a “poi sych.” Literally a “flesh blanket.”  This sounds like an accessory from Hannibal Lecter's line of horrific home furnishings, something to curl up under and enjoy a nice Chianti, but it's considered a powerful term of endearment by Cambodians. Everyone wants to find their poi sych to keep them warm at night. The potential romance is also rapidly snuffed out by the logistics of trying to huddle together like refugees in the monsoon rain. But an amazing technological innovation presented itself. It offered energy savings, which is currently the height of fashion, and cosy warmth – an electric blanket.

Power of Electricity

It's rare that one single object can completely change your view of a country. For my wife, it was that electric blanket. Winter in Oregon is no longer a season of despair – it's a season to plug in and luxuriate under the copper-laced folds. However, I hadn't anticipated the threat that blanket would pose. As the Internet has rendered many of my fellow journalists obsolete, so has the electric blanket negated at least one of my uses as a husband. Instead of being a warming lump, she's now aware that I snore and take up too much of the bed.

Now when I come to bed, I'm no longer sought for a warming hug. If I try to cuddle up for some of that radiant heat from the electric blanket, I'm as likely to receive a swift kick as anything else. It's a cold, hard world out there. Even in America.

Will Koenig lives in Oregon with his wife and son. Email: This e-mail address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it .