I hated the Irish rain, so I moved to China

More than anything in this world, I hate the rain.

I recently read that Dublin has about 200 rainy days a year. In the west of Ireland, it’s a much more grim 260. Of those remaining 100 to 165 dry days, how many of them are overcast? How many of them are in December or January? How many of them are consecutive? Frankly, it’s not research I want to read any more about.

It is my hatred of rain that has exiled me to and kept me in China for the past four years.

Beijing is a city famous for its air pollution. I sometimes read smug articles on the BBC or Guardian websites about a rare blue sky day in smoggy Beijing, but I almost never see headlines stating “Warm, dry day in Dublin”, which is just as rare. I’ll admit, there are days where the air here can reach almost toxic levels, but it’s a problem that has fortunately been improving.

When I first arrived in China, I would send emails to my family and friends about all the weird and wonderful things I was coming across here. People back home could barely believe there were still restaurants in this world where overweight men could walk around topless, hack up phlegm on the floor and smoke freely.

But if I were to send an email today, it would be mostly about going to work, going for dinner with my girlfriend, or watching the rugby in Paddy O’Shea’s. My life is pretty much the same as everyone else’s I know, but it’s in Beijing.

After four years in China, I am quite settled. Certain things bother me about the country, such as crowds on public transport and “The Great Firewall”, China’s internet censors; but I have to weigh these up with the benefits of life here. I have a well-paying teaching job that allows me a lifestyle I wouldn’t be able to enjoy in Ireland. The low cost of living ensures I can live very comfortably and also save some money. I genuinely don’t think I would have the same opportunities back home.

Plus, you can climb over “The Great Firewall” with a decent VPN.

Mika, my Chinese girlfriend, has yet to visit Ireland. When she sees pictures of the Cliffs of Moher, the Giant’s Causeway, the Ring of Kerry or the hills of Donegal, she is envious that such a small country could have so much beauty. I tend to agree, before tiring her with stories of being rained on at various landmarks and events. She’ll see for herself someday. I just hope she remembers to bring a raincoat.