By ASHLEIGH AU

It's on cold and blustery days like these that I reminisce about my first year in China. As a foreign exchange student I would keenly observe how my Chinese peers in Beijing coped with the cold weather.
Groups of girls would flock en masse to the public university bathhouse, small plastic baskets of toiletries in tow. They could while away some time under the steaming hot showers.
This was a refuge from the frigid concrete walls of their dorm rooms, where six to eight young people, stacked together in bunks like sardines and slotted between their personal belongings, books, towels and other assorted odds and ends, would huddle together and try to share their body heat.
Though this may sound warm and comforting in the colder months of the year, the reality of Chinese dormitories takes on a less picturesque aspect as winter turns to spring, and spring turns to summer. Distressed by heat and humidity, the overcrowded dorms turn into clammy sweatshops.
The best Chinese students can do is stick their heads out of windows, spend their evenings outside basking in the afternoon breeze, and during the day take refuge in libraries and under trees, books in hand.
At this time of year, being jammed together in second rate bunk beds is clammy and nauseous at best.
Studying under such conditions is an athletic, or at least a spiritual feat, like finding enlightenment through extreme physical exertion.
Though I am no expert on Chinese universities, it has always struck me how the best and brightest minds in China, or at least the most studious, are expected to toil away at their studies while managing less than ideal living and studying conditions.
Having lived and studied now in a few different Chinese cities, I have had the opportunity to visit Chinese classmates in their various dormitories.
I discovered that crowded and uncomfortable conditions seem to prevail across the board, even at some of the most prestigious academic establishments.
Chinese university dorms are a remnant of the past, a small detail that has not been renovated in recent years, in favor of advancing other aspects of higher education institutions and their facilities.
Tertiary educational institutions in China have boomed in growth in the past couple of decades, providing exponential increases in opportunities for young Chinese to pursue their higher academic achievement.
However, overcrowded accommodations force students to keep their clothing and belonging hanging from ceilings, bursting from bundles stuffed under their beds, their books litter any open space for lack of a place to be kept.
Considering the importance of those young people to Chinese society, since they are the next generation of the Chinese workforce, and China's leaders of the future, I wonder if this experience will foster the building of character or resentment.
I have always identified with Chinese university students, many of whom are far away from home, find life somewhat demanding and different.
Moving away from the warmth of their families, where many of them have been coddled and spoiled, and becoming one of the masses in large university environments is something of a culture shock.
Everyone knows that Chinese students endure incredible competition as they face off against millions of competitors to pass national college entrance exams and secure a coveted spot at any university to begin with.
It is only natural that complaints may arise when it is discovered that after having worked so hard to enter a place of study, physical and emotional endurance and tolerance will be some of the biggest challenges to endure in the course of higher academic pursuits.
This year I'd like to put in one special holiday wish for the university students across the country.
I wish for a future that brings some extra comfort to them as they continue with their studies, and also for small perks for young people, far from home and working hard, everywhere.
The author is a Shanghai-based Canadian freelance writer. ouyilian@yahoo.ca