31Ping remembered her first winter in America as the winter of nosebleeds and desolation. The University of Iowa was buried under a thick blanket of snow. People retreated into their houses. The streets were deserted, and darkness fell in the afternoon. The city was white under a bleak sky, heavy with clouds. Snowdrifts were everywhere, and icy blasts chilled her to the bone. So desolate and alone, she longed for death every day. Her nostrils were clogged with crusts of dried blood, which she dared not pry loose lest she bled again. Breathing was an effort in the cold, dry air. The arctic winds mauled her cracked lips that no balm seemed able to heal. Her head felt heavy and dull under the thick woollen cap and scarf that covered her neck and ears. She wore several layers under her heavy c
