Celsius vs. Fahrenheit


It was 1997, my first year in the US, and fall was waning.  Lynchburg temperatures were all over the map (not all too different from how they are now) except the 90’s version of myself had no context for “70 degrees Fahrenheit” or “55 degrees Fahrenheit.”

I had spent my childhood living in Celsius.  We knew it was summer once it hit 30 degrees Celsius; that was the temperature my mom made me wait for to go swimming.  At zero, water would freeze, and anything below -20 was going to be nothing short of miserable.

Since I didn’t carry one of these handy thermometers with me, the way I used to figure out how to dress in the AM was calling one of my US friends and asking what the temperature was, “in clothes.”  I think I had to do that for nearly my entire undergraduate degree.

I am happy to say, that I am finally fluent in both temperature scales, but it is just another one of those nuances between borders that still throws me for a minute.  Having the largest undefended border in the world, why can we not make peace with our measurement scales? 🙂

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