Day #1 in UB

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The entire time leading up to my departure has been surreal. Going to Mongolia just hasn't factored into my realm of reality yet. Besides, how often do people talk about going to Mongolia? As I flew over LAX, the pulsing lights of LA were diffused through cloud that looked like frothy mashed potatoes. Even going to LAX had its own kind of culture shock as I was truly unprepared for the pure outdated and dirty conditions of the huge International airport. This “culture shock” was merely compounded by entering the Beijing airport, which is brand new and absolutely gorgeous. The dedication to architecture and even to making it completely accessible to Americans (everything is subtitled in English and the bars serve Long Island Iced Teas) did NOT however, make it any easier to navigate. The sheer size of the terminal and the lack of adequate English speakers inevitably means a lot of wandering and repeated questions. But it was grand and it really made me wish I was getting a chance to see China too. Being seated on the plane between a Chinese native and an American teacher completely smitten with Chinese culture, it was very enticing indeed. Making a note to return there for adventure.

Soaring above the bleakest landscape imaginable, it suddenly came to me that I was in Mongolia. The long 20+ trip had taken its toll and so this realization was still dampened by pure fatigue and hunger. Speckled throughout the clay colored steppes were the tiniest flecks of white, ger encampments, some of which had substantial fences and flocks, and some of which could be mistaken for a tiny dot on the airplane window. Here I was seated next to a woman who is a University student in Singapore but who is originally from Mongolia. She is studying business and we really seemed to hit it off. This was an essential stroke of luck when upon arriving at the airport, i found no one there waiting to greet me. She helped me figure out how to get some money, avoid the swarm of taxi drivers offering to take me to mars and back, and finally, since i had no phone number or address (because I'm an idiot) launched into a 2 hour search with her friend's father and herself for a place called Zaya's Guesthouse. They drove me up and down, back and forth, and even paid a taxi driver who showed up and then admitted he did not know where it was. They had to pay him to leave, though I tried to stop them and pay myself. They were overly accommodating and so patient, even as i felt mine wearing thin. then I found out her name was Zaya and I felt a stroke of serendipity. Here was Zaya, spending hours helping me, a complete stranger, find Zaya's Guesthouse. It gave me warm fuzzies inside. So finally got to the Guesthouse, pulled Urna's number off the internet and called her. She was aghast that she had forgotten, wished I had called her sooner, and promised to have someone pick me up tomorrow morning. Ahhh... peace and quiet in a BEAUTIFUL and cheap hostel ($8/dorm night).

A little about UB...

Ulaanbaatar is not what traditional travelers would call beautiful. Upon entering the city, I could see heavy thick plumes of smoke coming from two large factory type facilities. The city was covered in a haze, though I am hoping some of it is due to clouds than just pure pollution. The city itself is basic Soviet Union disintegration. Everywhere you can see the Russian influence, from featureless block apartments and older federal buildings. But interspersed completely randomly through UB are new and sometimes stunning additions, boasting a strong Western influence amongst the remnants of their communist past. In short, I was completely fascinated. People do not drive here, they migrate. Lines are illusions, as are crosswalks and the people who dodge through traffic. I even saw a stop light which not a single person obeyed. Two lane roads became three as cars hustled and bustled, jockeying for position based on level of aggression. And yet there was a kind of poetry to it, a natural flow where cars and people just fit in amongst each other and although chaotic to a westerner used to traffic laws, I could really appreciate the nonverbal system in which everyone uses. No one yelled, people just bumped their horn to inform other drivers, and everyone made up their own rules, including parking in these said two lane streets.

There are also a lot of stray dogs. A LOT of stray dogs that seem to have developed their own way of living in UB. Though the PETA subscriber in me cries, i am forcing myself not to romanticize the realities of their life. Dogs are rarely fuzzy pets, though I saw a small girl attempting to herd a large German Shepard down the street.

Also, though the city itself is undeniably dirty and rundown, I was impressed by the way people dress and conduct themselves amongst the crumbling buildings. The people dress themselves in sharp, fashionable clothing (Zaya was sporting Gucci sunglasses) and move about with a grace and confidence I can only attribute to having acclimated to this overly unpredictable environment.

I have also realized that not knowing the language is going to make things very difficult. Though lots of signs and billboards sport English phrases and captions, I would have been completely screwed without Zaya there to translate and to get information. Must work on this skill right away and find ways to minimize these problems. You do run into people who speak moderate English which is completely accessible if you know how to slow down and communicate effectively (I feel I've done a really good job of that so far) but if they know nothing beyond one phrase, its very hard. Plus I feel like a complete jerk for being in their country and knowing little to no Mongolian (this feeling has carried over with me since Beijing).

Some cool differences I've noticed:
*their money is so awesome looking
*no designated parking spaces generally
*Chinese official uniforms are very attractive
*Asian women are gorgeous and yes, they have a real lack of fat people in their world (or so it seems thus far.)
*Weird locking mechanisms outside apartment block doors
*they have the thinnest and TINIEST cigarettes I have ever seen and I simply had to smoke one with Zaya just to enjoy the pure novelty of it.

Overall I really like this place so far, though I'm suffering from thief-a-phobia since someone stole some stuff from my backpack while it was being transported between Beijing and UB. I almost wish I hadn't brought any expensive stuff but at the same time I'm really glad to be able to sit here and type this journal and I'm really hoping for some excellent pictures.

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