Captain America trying to scare the camels.
Wednesday, June 15, 2011
Where in the World is Captain America: The Gobi Desert, Mongolia
Captain America trying to find refuge from the sun in the hot expanse of the Gobi.
Monday, June 13, 2011
I'm Alive
*Written 7 June, 2011*
I'm alive. Thanks be to Buddha, I'm alive. This seems like an obvious statement, but about an hour ago, I didn't know how much longer I would be able to say that.
Today, we left for our seven day Gobi tour and were prepared for a 250 km, eight and a half hour drive into sheer nothingness.
150 km in, we looked out the window and wondered where the heck we were. There was nothing around us, no life, no gers. I felt the need to remind the universe: I'm alive.
At 245 km, we got out at Little Rock - an amazing rock formation with an abandoned Buddhist temple. Among the ruins, walking in the footsteps of men long past, I needed to remind the universe: I'm alive.
At 248 km, our van lost control going up hill and sped backwards down a rocky incline of impending doom. As we rolled back, I didn't realize quite how out of control the van was until the fear in our driver's face and body language became increasingly more apparent.. When we stopped, the driver wiping blood off of his foreheaded, I needed to remind myself: I'm alive.
250 km marked our arrival at our ger, and we were greeted by a flea infested dog and Mongolian yogurt. Considering the last yogurt I had in this country was the best I've ever tasted, I was excited. As I lifted the bowl to my mouth, my tastebuds braced themselves the way passengers on a rollercoaster do at the first steep incline. When the chunky yogurt made final impact with my tongue, I had to brace myself for something else - the taste of warm, sour, rotting eggs. I don't think my mouth will ever trust me again. But as I pretended to enjoy the single most foul tasting thing I've ever encountered, I had to remind myself that atleast I'm alive.
I'm alive. I am alive. I'm still breathing. I'm still standing.
It's not very often that we stop to recognize that we simply are alive, and what a truly great thing that is. We all have pain, we all have suffering. We all have love, and we all have joy. We all have shit to do, people to see, and places to be. We all have and we all have not. When things are rough and the going gets tough, look at yourself in the mirror, take a deep breath, and remind yourself: "I'm alive."
While our here, in the middle of open terrain, I realize just how much I'm living. I don't know where I am, I don't know where I'm going, I don't really know what's on the agenda. The only thing I know is that I'm alive (can I even really know that?) and just how wonderful it is to be breathing. I'm living for the moment, and damn it's refreshing.
PS - I'm breathing in, I'm breathing out, I'm alive again. (Listen to it.)
I'm alive. Thanks be to Buddha, I'm alive. This seems like an obvious statement, but about an hour ago, I didn't know how much longer I would be able to say that.
Today, we left for our seven day Gobi tour and were prepared for a 250 km, eight and a half hour drive into sheer nothingness.
150 km in, we looked out the window and wondered where the heck we were. There was nothing around us, no life, no gers. I felt the need to remind the universe: I'm alive.
At 245 km, we got out at Little Rock - an amazing rock formation with an abandoned Buddhist temple. Among the ruins, walking in the footsteps of men long past, I needed to remind the universe: I'm alive.
At 248 km, our van lost control going up hill and sped backwards down a rocky incline of impending doom. As we rolled back, I didn't realize quite how out of control the van was until the fear in our driver's face and body language became increasingly more apparent.. When we stopped, the driver wiping blood off of his foreheaded, I needed to remind myself: I'm alive.
250 km marked our arrival at our ger, and we were greeted by a flea infested dog and Mongolian yogurt. Considering the last yogurt I had in this country was the best I've ever tasted, I was excited. As I lifted the bowl to my mouth, my tastebuds braced themselves the way passengers on a rollercoaster do at the first steep incline. When the chunky yogurt made final impact with my tongue, I had to brace myself for something else - the taste of warm, sour, rotting eggs. I don't think my mouth will ever trust me again. But as I pretended to enjoy the single most foul tasting thing I've ever encountered, I had to remind myself that atleast I'm alive.
I'm alive. I am alive. I'm still breathing. I'm still standing.
It's not very often that we stop to recognize that we simply are alive, and what a truly great thing that is. We all have pain, we all have suffering. We all have love, and we all have joy. We all have shit to do, people to see, and places to be. We all have and we all have not. When things are rough and the going gets tough, look at yourself in the mirror, take a deep breath, and remind yourself: "I'm alive."
While our here, in the middle of open terrain, I realize just how much I'm living. I don't know where I am, I don't know where I'm going, I don't really know what's on the agenda. The only thing I know is that I'm alive (can I even really know that?) and just how wonderful it is to be breathing. I'm living for the moment, and damn it's refreshing.
PS - I'm breathing in, I'm breathing out, I'm alive again. (Listen to it.)
Top 53 Gobi Highlights
The amazingness of the Gobi cannot be described fully in words... but here are a few of the highlights:
PS - Are You There?
- When asking our guide how long she had been a tour guide, she consulted with the driver and said, "oh, about thirty more minute."
- Being snotted on by an angry camel.
- Falling asleep to the sound of crying camels.
- Trying to avoid the creepy American named Ted, and his Thai "friend" (*cough*escort*cough*)
- Using dirt as an unintentional condiment, spray-on tan, and inhalant.
- Learning to love tumbleweeds, dust tornadoes, and cloud watching in the vast emptiness of the desert.
- Realizing that the worst road in the USA is the equivalent to the best road in Mongolia.
- The White Stupa's cliffs overlooking rolling red hills.
- The strange quietness that envelops you in the desert - like when your head is stuffy from a cold.
- Mongolians think that "yes" is an appropriate answer to everything - "how are you," "what did this used to be," "are we lost," "what's your name," etc.
- Not knowing or caring what you're stepping in when visiting the "toilet" at night.
- After days of not knowing where you are, finally finding a map and realizing just how far you came.
- The breathtaking views...
- Not being able to capture the epicness of a landscape, so resorting to simply soaking it in and keeping it for yourself.
- The abandoned Buddhist temple at Little Rock.
- The Dutch (Bridget and Maarten).
- Outhouses.
- Almost dying (see following post).
- Goat yogurt that tasted like hot rotten eggs.
- "You dead for sure Ted, you dead for sure." - The Thai woman
- Walking through a stunning valley while it was raining - it was worth it, the scenery was like Shangri-La.
- Shit-heated stoves.
- Kites (the bird, not the toy).
- The idiot woman who lit a cigarette at the gas station despite an exposed gas tank and five signs saying not to.
- Riding into the sunset atop a moody camel (who I named "Mickey").
- Asking our guide what my camel's name was and getting the response: "brown camel"
- Stars.
- Meeting Miles and Minda again in a random part of the Gobi, after first meeting them in Moscow and Irkutsk.
- Vodka shots in gers with great friends. Tuktoy!
- Listening to Miles rap about baby seal clubbing and making pot butter. "Killin' baby seals, keepin' it real."
- "They say that friends are the family you don't choose... I didn't choose you guys, but I couldn't have been luckier. To great friends." - Miles' toast
- Tsuivan!
- Endless car rides. On average: eight hours per day.
- "Our Mongolian Gobi, wonderful in world" - our guide.
- Running, rolling, and having fun in the sand dunes with the Dutch.
- Blasting "Fat Bottomed Girls" while flying through the desert.
- Fermented camel's milk.
- "Neuken in de Keuken."
- The ghetto ger and the ant roommates.
- Self realizations and reflection.
- The mini, Biblical oasis.
- Getting lost in red canyons made of compacted sand.
- Sunsets.
- Wandering aimlessly through the desert.
- Pastel landscapes.
- Pushing our car out of the mud.
- The ankle bone game.
- Mirages.
- "These hills, they look like women's........... [breasts]."
- Running out of gas and making it to the next town on a prayer and syphoned petrol.
- Spending the last night in a tent.
- GERS.
- Sandstorms.
PS - Are You There?
Monday, June 6, 2011
Where in the World is Captain America: The Mongolian Steppe
Captain America contemplating the meaning of life on the Mongolian steppe.
Where in the World is Captain America: In Front of a Ger in Mongolia
Captain America chilling outside his Mongolian ger.
Day 4 in Eastern Mongolia: Back to UB
With the van packed, we bid adieu to the family, and hit the road (or should I say the dirt and grass).
We drove to a little town and were introduced to a new batch of horses. My horse, whom I named Nebraska, didn't care much for me... and the feeling was mutual. Horses, while elegant and playful to look at, are a pain to ride (quite literally). Upon our arrival in Bagan National Park, I was excited to use my own two legs and jumped off the horse with a bruised bum and ego. After a picnic lunch, we went to a Buddhist temple that was partially rebuilt after being completely destroyed by the Soviets, and then we visited a natural history museum. The u-shaped, one roomed building was full of the creepiest taxidermy of all time.
Back in the van, we made our way towards Ulan Bator, where we were relieved to finally shower (thank God for running water!) We had dinner with Tommi before he had to run to his train to Irkutsk. The rest of the evening was full of rest and relaxation, as we become re-acclimated to civilization.
PS - Three weeks down.
We drove to a little town and were introduced to a new batch of horses. My horse, whom I named Nebraska, didn't care much for me... and the feeling was mutual. Horses, while elegant and playful to look at, are a pain to ride (quite literally). Upon our arrival in Bagan National Park, I was excited to use my own two legs and jumped off the horse with a bruised bum and ego. After a picnic lunch, we went to a Buddhist temple that was partially rebuilt after being completely destroyed by the Soviets, and then we visited a natural history museum. The u-shaped, one roomed building was full of the creepiest taxidermy of all time.
Back in the van, we made our way towards Ulan Bator, where we were relieved to finally shower (thank God for running water!) We had dinner with Tommi before he had to run to his train to Irkutsk. The rest of the evening was full of rest and relaxation, as we become re-acclimated to civilization.
PS - Three weeks down.
Day 3 in Eastern Mongolia: Best Day Yet
First on our itinerary today was the Chinngis Khaan memorial. The world's tallest horseman statue, it's made of stainless steel and was completed in 2010. It overlooks his hometown. The only thing that stands out in miles of open steppe, it seems quite daunting, as I'm sure the national hero was in his day.
Next was a stop at the Gokturk Memorial - a set of carved stones placed strategically in the middle of fricking nowhere. These seventh century stones were the first written record of the term "Turk." Exciting...
Our last stop for the day was at another Kazakh family's ger camp on the Mongolian steppe. The emptiness of the landscape was both incredibly peaceful and longingly lonely. Lunch included delicious bread and tsuivan. I lost a hand game and had to clean the dishes.
Since there isn't much to do here, I spent my time playing with the dogs, petting my new friend: a baby goat named "Matt," listening to the entire 'Born This Way' album and my collection of Adele, and napping. While I lay awake listening to music, a cow poked his head in the doorway of our ger, sniffed around, and then stared at me. I waved. She stared. It wasn't until one of our hosts yelled at her did the cow remove its head from our ger and bolt.
Karen and I went with the kids into the hills at one point - we took pictures, they took pictures, we played and messed around. The landscape ran for what seemed like an eternity, and every inch was magnificent. Each blade of grass a noticeably different color. I felt so utterly unimportant and insignificant.
Dinner was a simple melange of rice with carrots, peppers, onions, and beef, but the simplicity translated to excellency (again, some of the best things in life are simple!) We were offered homemade "red cheese," which was vile in both taste and texture. It tasted like a dirty sponge that had been soaked in spoiled milk... I do not suggest it. Despite the random nasty milk products, the food here continues to impress me.
The sun was setting on the Mongolian steppe as we prepared to play football (soccer) with the young Kazakhs, but our game was interrupted by familial festivities. Our hosts' son just bought a new motorcycle - a snazzy new Kenbo. We were called into a crowded ger for beef soup with homemade noodles and Chinngis Gold vodka. "Tuktoy" is Mongolian for "cheers." Four shots later, I realized that despite the immense loneliness of their surroundings, here was a happy, thriving family, full of life and love. They weren't lonely. They just were... and I'll always remember that.
After a final visit to the three walled outhouse with no door, I headed back to the ger. The steppe became chilly, but the ger was toasty - heated by wood and dried cow dung.
Just as we were about to go to sleep, the matriarch of the family came in to boil milk. She was followed by her eldest son and a few family members. Her son brought in a traditional Kazakh instrument called a Dombor. He serenaded us - the perfect way to end a perfect day.
PS - Are you happy?
Our last stop for the day was at another Kazakh family's ger camp on the Mongolian steppe. The emptiness of the landscape was both incredibly peaceful and longingly lonely. Lunch included delicious bread and tsuivan. I lost a hand game and had to clean the dishes.
Since there isn't much to do here, I spent my time playing with the dogs, petting my new friend: a baby goat named "Matt," listening to the entire 'Born This Way' album and my collection of Adele, and napping. While I lay awake listening to music, a cow poked his head in the doorway of our ger, sniffed around, and then stared at me. I waved. She stared. It wasn't until one of our hosts yelled at her did the cow remove its head from our ger and bolt.
Karen and I went with the kids into the hills at one point - we took pictures, they took pictures, we played and messed around. The landscape ran for what seemed like an eternity, and every inch was magnificent. Each blade of grass a noticeably different color. I felt so utterly unimportant and insignificant.
Dinner was a simple melange of rice with carrots, peppers, onions, and beef, but the simplicity translated to excellency (again, some of the best things in life are simple!) We were offered homemade "red cheese," which was vile in both taste and texture. It tasted like a dirty sponge that had been soaked in spoiled milk... I do not suggest it. Despite the random nasty milk products, the food here continues to impress me.
After a final visit to the three walled outhouse with no door, I headed back to the ger. The steppe became chilly, but the ger was toasty - heated by wood and dried cow dung.
Just as we were about to go to sleep, the matriarch of the family came in to boil milk. She was followed by her eldest son and a few family members. Her son brought in a traditional Kazakh instrument called a Dombor. He serenaded us - the perfect way to end a perfect day.
The Mongolian Steppe
Our ger camp on the steppe
Our host, lighting up a homemade cigarette
Our driver, Ongo
Tommi, our travel companion
Our guide
Our hostess
PS - Are you happy?
Sunday, June 5, 2011
Day 2 in Eastern Mongolia - Turtle-Shaped Rocks and Horses and Kazakhs, Oh My!
Traditional Mongolian breakfast helped to fuel us for the coming long day. We said goodbye to our ger and set out for our first stop: Turtle Rock. This rock, which vaguely resembles a turtle, guarded an amazing landscape of mountains, gers, and trees. We climbed to the "neck," which involved squeezing down a tight rock hole. The view was damn worth it.
After Turtle Rock, we trekked to the Meditation Temple, built high in the Terelj mountains and overlooking a breathtaking valley. The temple was simple, yet complex - full of vibrant colors and symbols.
Next, we trekked to a ger camp for lunch. The beef, salad, rice, and fries were hands down the best food we have had yet - a delectable symphony of flavors, each note playing softly on all the right taste buds. The classic milk tea accompanied the meal, and tasted like warm milk with a sprinkling of extra salty sweat (the Ke$ha to the Yo-Yo Ma of the rest of lunch).
Chowing down was followed by horseback riding. My horse, which I named Alejandro, was mostly compliant... except when he and my full stomach disagreed over the prudence of trotting. The view of Mongolia from atop the horse made me wonder - how could one country, so overlooked by most travelers, be so utterly gorgeous.
The One-Hundred Monk Cave was our last stop before the Kazakh family, with whom we would spend the night. While there, the van broke down and we waited as our driver fixed it - more time to take in the sights was perfectly fine with us.
The Kazakh family was a highlight for sure. We were greeted by fresh bread, fried bread, homemade butter, sugar, and tea. This bread was the best I've ever had - soft on the inside, perfectly hard on the out. We went up the surrounding mountain before dinner, and were greeted by the most picturesque views thus far. I listened to Buddhist music as I soaked up my surroundings.
When we were called back to watch the family make khuushuur (fried meat dumplings), we got distracted by the cutest puppies in the world. The puppies were so cute that we ignored the fact that they were literally covered in shit, and played with them for quite some time. Watching the family prepare dinner was fascinating for a few minutes, but I got distracted with the adorable kids and perfect lighting, so I went out for a photoshoot until I was called back in to eat. The khuushuur was so good that we stuffed our faces past the point of utter fullness. Dinner was followed by learning Mongolian hand games and playing with the kids and puppies. We raced one of the girls up the surrounding mountain, but she was quickly forced to return. From the peak, Tommi and I looked out over the nearby towns - but had to cut our adventure short since neither of us had a flashlight. Back at the house, we had some homemade yogurt with the family - the best yogurt I've ever tasted.
Our guide and driver are so great. The guide is extremely knowledgeable and the driver is hilarious. He has one of those faces that exudes happiness and his playful and goofy nature is incredibly entertaining. His menacing laugh is imprinted in my memory forever.
PS - I've got a pocket full of money
And pocket full of keys that have no bounds
The One-Hundred Monk Cave was our last stop before the Kazakh family, with whom we would spend the night. While there, the van broke down and we waited as our driver fixed it - more time to take in the sights was perfectly fine with us.
The Kazakh family was a highlight for sure. We were greeted by fresh bread, fried bread, homemade butter, sugar, and tea. This bread was the best I've ever had - soft on the inside, perfectly hard on the out. We went up the surrounding mountain before dinner, and were greeted by the most picturesque views thus far. I listened to Buddhist music as I soaked up my surroundings.
Our guide and driver are so great. The guide is extremely knowledgeable and the driver is hilarious. He has one of those faces that exudes happiness and his playful and goofy nature is incredibly entertaining. His menacing laugh is imprinted in my memory forever.
PS - I've got a pocket full of money
And pocket full of keys that have no bounds
Day 1 in Eastern Mongolia - Terelj National Park
The epicness of today is hard to describe in words.
After a tasty breakfast of God knows what on toast, we met our tour guide (whose name I still don't remember) and our driver (Ongo), and took off to the east. We were joined by a cool Finn named Tommi, who was returning home by land from Singapore to see a Bon Jovi concert. It only took us an hour and a half to make it to the ger camp, which was set amidst mountains, forests, and farms - Earth's beauty as far as the eye can see.
We had tea and tsuivan for lunch, a simple yet amazing dish of homemade noodles, beef, and veggies. Afterward, we threw our stuff in the ger and went for a quick hike. I love hiking, but my lack of experience and apparent out-of-shape-ness made it difficult. All of the fumbling was worth it for the view and silence - sheer tranquility. Looking out on the mountains and tree tops, I took a deep breath and listened. My heart beat was all I could hear.
On the way down, I grabbed a walking stick (thank God, otherwise I would have fallen a few more times than my Suburban-ass had already). Back at the camp, I got my Swiss Army knife, my walking stick, and Damian's Bible (which I've been wanting to read for years) and went into the forest. I found a comfy rock, put the Bible down and started whittling my stick. The irony of carpentry and the Bible didn't escape me. The complete simplicity of sitting in the forest cutting the bark off of a stick was moving, relaxing, and thought provoking. When the wood was bare, I began reading until I started to drift off. I went back to the ger and took a nap. The quiet made for great rest, but the gripping cold woke me. Shortly thereafter we had dinner - vegetable soup with beef and steamed bread (mantuu). Another delicious meal.
We all chatted in the ger next to a wood burning stove, drinking tea. The conversation was only interrupted by a trip outside to watch the sunset. Our awesome driver tackled Tommi, then me, and chased down Michael.
The quiet and serenity of today was perfect for contemplation and soul searching. I'm beginning to reflect on my flaws, and how to improve them. My first big realization of the trip was centered around my frustration with not being taken seriously. I realized that the reason other people don't take me very seriously is because I don't take myself seriously - a dislike for cockiness gone extreme. Perhaps when I respect myself, others will follow.
PS - Mac II, iii, 116-118
After a tasty breakfast of God knows what on toast, we met our tour guide (whose name I still don't remember) and our driver (Ongo), and took off to the east. We were joined by a cool Finn named Tommi, who was returning home by land from Singapore to see a Bon Jovi concert. It only took us an hour and a half to make it to the ger camp, which was set amidst mountains, forests, and farms - Earth's beauty as far as the eye can see.
We had tea and tsuivan for lunch, a simple yet amazing dish of homemade noodles, beef, and veggies. Afterward, we threw our stuff in the ger and went for a quick hike. I love hiking, but my lack of experience and apparent out-of-shape-ness made it difficult. All of the fumbling was worth it for the view and silence - sheer tranquility. Looking out on the mountains and tree tops, I took a deep breath and listened. My heart beat was all I could hear.
On the way down, I grabbed a walking stick (thank God, otherwise I would have fallen a few more times than my Suburban-ass had already). Back at the camp, I got my Swiss Army knife, my walking stick, and Damian's Bible (which I've been wanting to read for years) and went into the forest. I found a comfy rock, put the Bible down and started whittling my stick. The irony of carpentry and the Bible didn't escape me. The complete simplicity of sitting in the forest cutting the bark off of a stick was moving, relaxing, and thought provoking. When the wood was bare, I began reading until I started to drift off. I went back to the ger and took a nap. The quiet made for great rest, but the gripping cold woke me. Shortly thereafter we had dinner - vegetable soup with beef and steamed bread (mantuu). Another delicious meal.
We all chatted in the ger next to a wood burning stove, drinking tea. The conversation was only interrupted by a trip outside to watch the sunset. Our awesome driver tackled Tommi, then me, and chased down Michael.
The quiet and serenity of today was perfect for contemplation and soul searching. I'm beginning to reflect on my flaws, and how to improve them. My first big realization of the trip was centered around my frustration with not being taken seriously. I realized that the reason other people don't take me very seriously is because I don't take myself seriously - a dislike for cockiness gone extreme. Perhaps when I respect myself, others will follow.
PS - Mac II, iii, 116-118
Wednesday, June 1, 2011
I Be in UB, You See
I Be in UB, You See, a set on Flickr.
So, Blogspot is the worst of possible blogging websites and not allowing me to upload photographs. Until I have more time to play around, please check out my newest photos that I uploaded to this Flickr album:
Ulan Bator
Ulan Bator, Mongolia is an exciting little city with little to do. We're looking forward to getting out of the city, but so far we've been enjoying ourselves.
Yesterday, we went to Gandan Monastery (Buddhist). Certainly not one of the most exciting places of worship I've seen in Asia, it had it's own little charm. There was a nice little courtyard with pigeons, kids scaring pigeons, people feeding pigeons, and people dodging pigeons. Damn pigeons. Besides these upiquitous and evil birds, the three of us wandered into the main place of worship. Inside, a very large amount of monks sat chanting, hitting drums, blowing horns, and praying. We sat on the sides with the locals and took in the sensory overload. It is hard to describe what I witnessed there - a profound experience. Photographs were not allowed, and since I cannot even come close to capturing it in words, I will just keep this to myself...
After the monastery, we headed to the supermarket for something to drink and for ice cream. As we entered the store, we were bowed to by an adult male in a bumblebee suit.You have not lived until you have been bowed to by a bumblebee....... In the supermarket, I decided to purchase Seabuckthorn juice, a favorite of Mongolians. This not-so-tasty drink was some what enigmatic - it tasted watered down, yet full of a flavor that we decided resembles that of PlayDoh. We sat outside the market and ate ice cream, watching the locals as they stared us down, intrigued by the foreigners.
People watching in Mongolia is hands down the best. The population is split in two - people who are extremely intriguing looking (not necessarily unattractive, just interesting) and those who are absolutely drop dead gorgeous. The three of us did not expect Mongolia to be a breeding ground for the most attractive people in Asia (or perhaps the world). As for the youngsters, we have decided that six years old is the age in which Mongolians transform from the cutest frickin' babies ever, into extremely bizarre looking children. Then at about fifteen, the metamorphosis begins as some come out intriguing and others butterflies (I still can't get over the swarms of butterflies!) Mongolians are also the best dressed, most stylish people on a whole. Completely surprising.
For dinner, we caught up with our good friend Stephane, the Frenchie. Stephane's wit is sharper than the edge of a diamond, and leaves us laughing at every second - especially when he says, "rubber ducky" in a thick French accent. The four of us went to a literal hole in the wall, where no one spoke English, the menus were in Mongolian only, and we were stared at as though no Westerners had every set foot in the establishment (if one could apply such a title to a hole in the wall). A few minutes of looking at the menu and pretending like we knew what we were doing, was culminated in the decision of simply pointing at something and wishing for the best. It turned out to be a success, the food was delicious! After dinner, we went to find a bar. On the outside, Millstar Bar looks like an absolute dump, but on the inside, the atmosphere was beyond comfortable. Leather sofas hugged us as we sat in soft mood lighting. Western pop artists serenaded us from the speakers as we sipped our Mongolian beers. We chatted and laughed for quite some time. Stephane will be missed for sure - but luckily we will reconnect in Beijing for a bit!
Today, we set out to go to Sukhbatar Square before making the several kilometer walk to the Winter Palace. As we strolled the streets, we were baffled by the amount of young children looking dapper as can be. Little boys got their swag on in sparkly suits, while little girls clutched balloons in puffy white dresses. The second Sukhbatar Square came into view, the three of us turned to each other and exclaimed, "what the f*ck?!" The square was PACKED. Wandering around, gawking at the carnival games and happy families, we had yet to realize that today was Children's Day. Perhaps the cutest of all holidays (especially since Mongolian children are the cutest babies on Earth), we said, "awww" more times than a bratty pre-tween (oxymoron) says, "like" (like oh my god, these kids are like the cutest things like ever!)
Once we finished signing adoption papers for all of the children of Mongolia (not actually), we headed to the Winter Palace. The long walk was paused only for some ice cream (yes, we like our ice cream, don't judge). Since most foreigners hitch a ride to the palace, our walking threesome made for quite a sight for the locals as we made our way off the beaten path. Upon our arrival, we realized that the beautiful structure was closed, so headed back to the monastery that we had been to yesterday. The relaxing stroll through the monastery's grounds was followed a little bit later by a reunion and dinner with the Commonwealthers - the last time we'll see them on this trip (but hopefully not forever). Their group is one of epic personalities - the friendliest, funniest group of people we've met thus far. We said our goodbyes and returned to the hostel.
Tomorrow, we are off to the East! I'll be offline for a few days - look for a few updates in four days!
PS - Thank you
Yesterday, we went to Gandan Monastery (Buddhist). Certainly not one of the most exciting places of worship I've seen in Asia, it had it's own little charm. There was a nice little courtyard with pigeons, kids scaring pigeons, people feeding pigeons, and people dodging pigeons. Damn pigeons. Besides these upiquitous and evil birds, the three of us wandered into the main place of worship. Inside, a very large amount of monks sat chanting, hitting drums, blowing horns, and praying. We sat on the sides with the locals and took in the sensory overload. It is hard to describe what I witnessed there - a profound experience. Photographs were not allowed, and since I cannot even come close to capturing it in words, I will just keep this to myself...
After the monastery, we headed to the supermarket for something to drink and for ice cream. As we entered the store, we were bowed to by an adult male in a bumblebee suit.You have not lived until you have been bowed to by a bumblebee....... In the supermarket, I decided to purchase Seabuckthorn juice, a favorite of Mongolians. This not-so-tasty drink was some what enigmatic - it tasted watered down, yet full of a flavor that we decided resembles that of PlayDoh. We sat outside the market and ate ice cream, watching the locals as they stared us down, intrigued by the foreigners.
People watching in Mongolia is hands down the best. The population is split in two - people who are extremely intriguing looking (not necessarily unattractive, just interesting) and those who are absolutely drop dead gorgeous. The three of us did not expect Mongolia to be a breeding ground for the most attractive people in Asia (or perhaps the world). As for the youngsters, we have decided that six years old is the age in which Mongolians transform from the cutest frickin' babies ever, into extremely bizarre looking children. Then at about fifteen, the metamorphosis begins as some come out intriguing and others butterflies (I still can't get over the swarms of butterflies!) Mongolians are also the best dressed, most stylish people on a whole. Completely surprising.
For dinner, we caught up with our good friend Stephane, the Frenchie. Stephane's wit is sharper than the edge of a diamond, and leaves us laughing at every second - especially when he says, "rubber ducky" in a thick French accent. The four of us went to a literal hole in the wall, where no one spoke English, the menus were in Mongolian only, and we were stared at as though no Westerners had every set foot in the establishment (if one could apply such a title to a hole in the wall). A few minutes of looking at the menu and pretending like we knew what we were doing, was culminated in the decision of simply pointing at something and wishing for the best. It turned out to be a success, the food was delicious! After dinner, we went to find a bar. On the outside, Millstar Bar looks like an absolute dump, but on the inside, the atmosphere was beyond comfortable. Leather sofas hugged us as we sat in soft mood lighting. Western pop artists serenaded us from the speakers as we sipped our Mongolian beers. We chatted and laughed for quite some time. Stephane will be missed for sure - but luckily we will reconnect in Beijing for a bit!
Today, we set out to go to Sukhbatar Square before making the several kilometer walk to the Winter Palace. As we strolled the streets, we were baffled by the amount of young children looking dapper as can be. Little boys got their swag on in sparkly suits, while little girls clutched balloons in puffy white dresses. The second Sukhbatar Square came into view, the three of us turned to each other and exclaimed, "what the f*ck?!" The square was PACKED. Wandering around, gawking at the carnival games and happy families, we had yet to realize that today was Children's Day. Perhaps the cutest of all holidays (especially since Mongolian children are the cutest babies on Earth), we said, "awww" more times than a bratty pre-tween (oxymoron) says, "like" (like oh my god, these kids are like the cutest things like ever!)
Once we finished signing adoption papers for all of the children of Mongolia (not actually), we headed to the Winter Palace. The long walk was paused only for some ice cream (yes, we like our ice cream, don't judge). Since most foreigners hitch a ride to the palace, our walking threesome made for quite a sight for the locals as we made our way off the beaten path. Upon our arrival, we realized that the beautiful structure was closed, so headed back to the monastery that we had been to yesterday. The relaxing stroll through the monastery's grounds was followed a little bit later by a reunion and dinner with the Commonwealthers - the last time we'll see them on this trip (but hopefully not forever). Their group is one of epic personalities - the friendliest, funniest group of people we've met thus far. We said our goodbyes and returned to the hostel.
Tomorrow, we are off to the East! I'll be offline for a few days - look for a few updates in four days!
PS - Thank you
Monday, May 30, 2011
Ulan Bator
I've been in Mongolia for a day now. It's a great country - fascinating!
Mongolian people and culture are this intriguing hybrid between the East and West, ancient and modern. Every five minutes you think you're in Hanoi, St. Petersburg, the 1200s, or the Twenty-first Century. As the buildings are in dire need of a paint job, they stand contrasted against the shiny and expensive cars that seem to aim for pedestrians as they cross the street. The people are much friendlier than in Russia, except for the extremely high rate of pickpockets that riddle the streets of Ulan Bator (the capital). The weather here is bizarre... one second you're freezing, the next burning, the next feeling rather pleasant. Lonely Planet accurately described Mongolia as potentially going through every season in twenty-four hours.
We haven't taken any pictures yet, for fear of the enormous pickpocket ring. Today, we intend to go out and take landscapes, while tomorrow will be portraits (this way, we won't have our sidebags with us in order to switch lenses). But I promise that Karen (www.thesqueakyrobot.wordpress.com), Michael (www.thetasketernal.wordpress.com), and I will certainly capture and post some great shots - as they're everywhere, calling to us.
Yesterday was a very relaxed day. We spent some time in our hostel, meeting amazing people (Israeli, Argentinian, Austrian, Australian, etc - the Israelis being our favorite here so far), and then we did some souvenir/gift shopping so we can send stuff home from UB, as opposed to carrying a ton of trinkets for another few months. UB's State Department Store has, perhaps, the most reasonably priced souvenirs of any shop I've been in. In the evening, we went to a delicious restaurant right near our hostel, Golden Gobi. The food was spectacular and the three of us couldn't even finish our plates for under 3 USD per person, despite our taste buds yearning for more.
I'm excited to be back in Asia, where you cross streets with nothing but the prayers of making it to the other side, where you order food that you've never heard of before in expectation that it's probably delicious (and it normally is), where that unknown food you ordered looks like nothing else you've ever seen but you try it anyway, figuring that someone eats it and they don't die; where you never have any idea what faux pas you're dishing out, where you laugh at the plethora of "wtf" moments as you walk down the street, and the list goes on and on.
Today will undoubtedly provide a wide array of stories - good, bad, ugly, hilarious, etc - and I can't wait.
I'm further excited for the next few weeks, after booking tours into the country. On 2 June, we will be going to the East of UB for a few days, staying in a national park, living with nomadic, hunting, and Kazakh families; we'll go horse and camel riding, etc etc. We had to switch things around and make some sacrifices, for which I'm incredibly grateful to my understanding companions, so that I can be in UB (and have phone/internet service) on 6 June - my best friend's birthday. On 7 June,we will be embarking for the Gobi Desert in a seven day jaunt into a sandy dreamscape. We'll return on the 13th and leave UB on the same day - arriving at the Chinese border town of Erilian on the 14th, at which point we'll take a sleeper bus to Beijing and arrive at 7AM on the 15th. During those periods of time, I will only have access to the outside world in UB (or if you have a skilled owl, pigeon, or eagle or mastered the art of telepathy).
Ok, time to explore!!!
PS - ...whatever...
Mongolian people and culture are this intriguing hybrid between the East and West, ancient and modern. Every five minutes you think you're in Hanoi, St. Petersburg, the 1200s, or the Twenty-first Century. As the buildings are in dire need of a paint job, they stand contrasted against the shiny and expensive cars that seem to aim for pedestrians as they cross the street. The people are much friendlier than in Russia, except for the extremely high rate of pickpockets that riddle the streets of Ulan Bator (the capital). The weather here is bizarre... one second you're freezing, the next burning, the next feeling rather pleasant. Lonely Planet accurately described Mongolia as potentially going through every season in twenty-four hours.
We haven't taken any pictures yet, for fear of the enormous pickpocket ring. Today, we intend to go out and take landscapes, while tomorrow will be portraits (this way, we won't have our sidebags with us in order to switch lenses). But I promise that Karen (www.thesqueakyrobot.wordpress.com), Michael (www.thetasketernal.wordpress.com), and I will certainly capture and post some great shots - as they're everywhere, calling to us.
Yesterday was a very relaxed day. We spent some time in our hostel, meeting amazing people (Israeli, Argentinian, Austrian, Australian, etc - the Israelis being our favorite here so far), and then we did some souvenir/gift shopping so we can send stuff home from UB, as opposed to carrying a ton of trinkets for another few months. UB's State Department Store has, perhaps, the most reasonably priced souvenirs of any shop I've been in. In the evening, we went to a delicious restaurant right near our hostel, Golden Gobi. The food was spectacular and the three of us couldn't even finish our plates for under 3 USD per person, despite our taste buds yearning for more.
I'm excited to be back in Asia, where you cross streets with nothing but the prayers of making it to the other side, where you order food that you've never heard of before in expectation that it's probably delicious (and it normally is), where that unknown food you ordered looks like nothing else you've ever seen but you try it anyway, figuring that someone eats it and they don't die; where you never have any idea what faux pas you're dishing out, where you laugh at the plethora of "wtf" moments as you walk down the street, and the list goes on and on.
Today will undoubtedly provide a wide array of stories - good, bad, ugly, hilarious, etc - and I can't wait.
I'm further excited for the next few weeks, after booking tours into the country. On 2 June, we will be going to the East of UB for a few days, staying in a national park, living with nomadic, hunting, and Kazakh families; we'll go horse and camel riding, etc etc. We had to switch things around and make some sacrifices, for which I'm incredibly grateful to my understanding companions, so that I can be in UB (and have phone/internet service) on 6 June - my best friend's birthday. On 7 June,we will be embarking for the Gobi Desert in a seven day jaunt into a sandy dreamscape. We'll return on the 13th and leave UB on the same day - arriving at the Chinese border town of Erilian on the 14th, at which point we'll take a sleeper bus to Beijing and arrive at 7AM on the 15th. During those periods of time, I will only have access to the outside world in UB (or if you have a skilled owl, pigeon, or eagle or mastered the art of telepathy).
Ok, time to explore!!!
PS - ...whatever...
Sunday, May 29, 2011
Where in the World is Captain America: Lake Baikal
Captain America soaking up the sun on a rock by Lake Baikal in Russia.
And So The Second Leg Begins...
We departed from the Baikaler Hostel in the dead of night to the train station for a 5AM-er, and so began our sad goodbye to the Russia we grew to know and love.
The three of us squeezed into a tight compartment designed for four people (how four people with luggage could fit in that room is perhaps an Asian mystery), but we were lucky to be able to leave the fourth bed open to Elijah and no one else (Passover joke, anyone?). The decor of our train compartment was described perfectly by Karen as a "Sultan's sex room"... I'll leave that up to your imagination. As we attempted to board the train, loud Mongolians rushed through the halls carrying the oddest assortment of things. We watched as a seemingly endless supply of bursting trash bags and boxes were loaded into their rooms and the hallways. We laughed as the torsos and bottom-halves of mannequins made their way past our door - and we wondered if they had to buy the plastic people tickets (and if they didn't, does Joan Rivers need a ticket?)
If it wasn't for a cold and a stomach bug, I would have enjoyed the first part of the train ride more, but after a great night's sleep, I felt loads better. The train ride was great and sights were awe-inspiring.
During the six and a half hours spent at customs between both the Russian and Mongolian sides, we compared the two neighboring countries. It was apparent that the two sides could easily be contrasted in the wonderful juxtaposition of the K-9 units used by each. Russia used German Shepards, beautiful dogs, aggressive on the outside and when necessary, cute and cuddly on the inside. German Shepards are like Russia(ns) in so many ways. Once over to the Mongolian side, the use of Cocker Spaniels was laughable, yet exceedingly representative of Mongolia. Cute, non-aggressive, and certainly not intimidating. We wanted to play with both dogs - with the German Shepards, we were afraid of being violently mauled; with the Spaniels, we were afraid of being violently licked.
Upon our arrival in Ulan Bator, we were welcomed by staff at our hostel, Golden Gobi. We hadn't informed them at what time we would be arriving, but they somehow figured it out and were incredibly kind enough to get us and bring us to the centrally located hostel. The place is great - super cozy, warm staff, and uber inviting. We were greeted by delicious bread with butter and some fresh jam, and some extremely delightful tea with milk. Things are off to a good start and I'm excited for what Mongolia has to offer!
PS - And everything between
The three of us squeezed into a tight compartment designed for four people (how four people with luggage could fit in that room is perhaps an Asian mystery), but we were lucky to be able to leave the fourth bed open to Elijah and no one else (Passover joke, anyone?). The decor of our train compartment was described perfectly by Karen as a "Sultan's sex room"... I'll leave that up to your imagination. As we attempted to board the train, loud Mongolians rushed through the halls carrying the oddest assortment of things. We watched as a seemingly endless supply of bursting trash bags and boxes were loaded into their rooms and the hallways. We laughed as the torsos and bottom-halves of mannequins made their way past our door - and we wondered if they had to buy the plastic people tickets (and if they didn't, does Joan Rivers need a ticket?)
If it wasn't for a cold and a stomach bug, I would have enjoyed the first part of the train ride more, but after a great night's sleep, I felt loads better. The train ride was great and sights were awe-inspiring.
During the six and a half hours spent at customs between both the Russian and Mongolian sides, we compared the two neighboring countries. It was apparent that the two sides could easily be contrasted in the wonderful juxtaposition of the K-9 units used by each. Russia used German Shepards, beautiful dogs, aggressive on the outside and when necessary, cute and cuddly on the inside. German Shepards are like Russia(ns) in so many ways. Once over to the Mongolian side, the use of Cocker Spaniels was laughable, yet exceedingly representative of Mongolia. Cute, non-aggressive, and certainly not intimidating. We wanted to play with both dogs - with the German Shepards, we were afraid of being violently mauled; with the Spaniels, we were afraid of being violently licked.
Upon our arrival in Ulan Bator, we were welcomed by staff at our hostel, Golden Gobi. We hadn't informed them at what time we would be arriving, but they somehow figured it out and were incredibly kind enough to get us and bring us to the centrally located hostel. The place is great - super cozy, warm staff, and uber inviting. We were greeted by delicious bread with butter and some fresh jam, and some extremely delightful tea with milk. Things are off to a good start and I'm excited for what Mongolia has to offer!
PS - And everything between
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