Beijing's air is DRY. As in no frost on car windshields and no crunchy frozen grass. As in constant chapped lips and bloody, cracked knuckles after washing a few dishes. I was warned about this though and brought a Costco size tub of Cetaphil (if you're looking for a good lotion, it's amazing!)
What has shocked me is the static (pun intended). More than once I have felt like the embarrassed women in the Bounce commercials who can't keep her skirt from clinging to her legs as she walks down the street. Each night we are treated to an electrical show of sorts as we draw the covers over the girls and miniature bolts of lightning arc from the blanket to the bed, lighting up the dark room. I'm still surprised when I get that little prick when I test the temperature of the bath water. And Brian exclaims almost every time he pushes his hands down hard enough to get out of bed and completes the circuit with the mattress springs. In order to turn each little prick into something that doesn't draw tears after any human contact, these little shocks, in our house, mean that the two people love each other a lot. We hope this doesn't cause too much confusion for the girls if they have a shocking encounter with a stranger. Or think that we don't love them any more when the weather gets more humid...
