Losing my shirt over the local dress code

When I have traveled in Southern Europe and the Southern US, I have grabbed the chance to feel that warmth again. In the two short months I have been in Beijing, I have marvelled at how hot and dry this city is.

I'm sticky and sweaty and panting for air if I walk at anything faster than a saunter for anything longer than half-a-block - and I'm loving it. Most days, I amble down to the park and sit there in the heat with my Idiot's Guide to Mandarin and watch the world go by.

I usually lounge in the sun, until I become uncomfortable. Then I switch to the shade, until I miss the sun.

Simple pleasures ... Except now, after my epiphany, I realize that I have been committing a social faux pas and possibly even offending some of my Chinese neighbors.

It will be agonizing, getting the chance to revisit that glorious summer of my youth without being able to feel the glow of the sun once more on my skin. But if that is the price I have to pay to live in China, it's well worth it. Now, though, I realize that I have some research to do. I must find out more about China's dress code.

If a bare chest is out, I wonder what else I might have to say goodbye to - my skin-tight leopard-print pants, for example. Now, if there is not a law against wearing them, there probably should be.