When Karmen left Chicago, it was somewhere around -13 degrees, if I remember correctly. When she arrived in Guayaquil, it was somewhere in the upper 80s. She immediately hung her winter coat in the closet, not to be thought of again until it was time to make the return trip to the blustery north. We had three fans going in our room that night to make things bearable. In the middle of the night, however, I had to get up and shut the one that was aimed in my direction off as well as add an additional layer to my pajamas. In the morning, when I confessed to Karmen what I had done, she looked at me rather pityingly. "You'll never survive when you come home."
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