Mongolia -- Arrival and Day 1 (Ulaanbaatar)

The day of our departure was among the busiest days I have had in a long long time. Our flight was at about five in the evening, but I had to go into work that morning because Kristin had taken the day off, and I had classes to cover. I was scheduled for class in every period until lunch, but fortunately the first two periods were rescheduled, and I had some extra time to prepare information and such for Mongolia. (And to steel my nerves for third and fourth period, which were two new classes that I was teaching with two new teachers, one of whom I'd only even met the day before.) In the end, the classes went okay, and I was amused to see that I'm now teaching a kid who lives on my street, and has just moved up from another local junior high. His name is Ryoma, and I think he's going to prove to be a funny character.

Fourth period ended at 12:35, and I was in a hurry to go get my luggage and get on the train by 1:08. Fortunately, Hosoi-sensei had kindly offered to give me a ride. He was waiting at my desk when I got back from class, looking a little sheepish, and he said to me, "Are you ready? ...Actually, I forgot, I don't have my car today, because there is a party tonight." (Meaning: he intended to drink, and was using the train to avoid Japan's zero blood alcohol law.) There was a moment of surprise on my part, but before I could even process the problem enough to be distressed, he hurriedly told me that Kawabe-sensei, the funny PE teacher, had agreed to take us, instead. I guess Hosoi-sensei felt obligated to come along, even though he wasn't actually driving anymore, so all three of us piled into Kawabe-sensei's van.

To make a long story short, I made the train and my connection at Kyoto station for the airport express, and arrived at the airport around 3:45. Fig was already there, and after checking in, we grabbed a late lunch/early dinner and hopped on the plane! It was about two hours to Seoul, where we found out that our next flight had been delayed about two or three hours. So we mucked about in the airport, had an encounter with a really sketched out Korean Air clerk who looked incredibly nervous as if we were hydras come to devour him, and finally got on our next plane. We arrived in Ulaanbaatar after one in the morning, and were met by Idre, the guy who runs the guesthouse where we stayed.

(I'd like to take a moment to comment on an advert we saw in the UB airport. It was for one of the major banks -- maybe Khan Bank -- and the tagline was, "Your inevitable business partner in Mongolia." Um, WHAT? They sound like the mafia!)

The drive into UB was strange and vaguely post-apocalyptic. It was really dark, and there were these huge smokestacks with orange lights looming over the city. There weren't many people on the street, but there were some wild dogs, a whole group of them besieging a parked SUV.

The guest house, though, was very nice on the inside, with computer access and laundry service, a kitchen and several public sitting areas. Plus, we were the only two in our room. Not bad for four dollars a night!

The next morning we got our first daylight look at UB. Outside, we could see a battered playground slide, dirt, broken concrete, and some pretty miserable looking buildings. My first reaction was, "It looks like Soviet Russia!" Which was in some ways accurate, but probably a little harsh. The city was just much greyer than I was expecting, and maybe moreso than any other place I've been. (It was even more intimidating than my first visit to Wittenberg, in which we accidentally drove through the south side of Springfield.)

The first thing we did was exchange our yen for tugrik, the Mongolian currency, and set out to explore town. We had tasty dumpling soup for lunch, did a little souvenir shopping at the State Department Store, and each picked up a beautiful tablecloth from this tiny hole-in-the-wall quilting shop we stumbled across in the ubiquitous apartment complexes. (I hesitate to call them tenements, because like many other places in UB, they were probably nicer on the inside. ...Probably.) We looked at a lot of cool antiques, but they were unfortunately out of our price range. Our quest to find the North Korean restaurant listed in our guidebook ended in failure (though we did pass a bar that claimed to be, "probably the most stylish lounge in UB"), so we ended up at Dublin, Mongolia's first Irish pub.

At the guesthouse that night, we befriended the young housekeeper, Nasaa, and a little boy named Urnuun, who lived en suite with his mother, who also worked there. We sort of taught them gin rummy, and then they taught us a Mongolian card game, which we played for hours. Urnuun had amazing English, even though he was only about ten. I guess it came from living in the guesthouse, where English was the most universal mode of communication. As a person, Urnuun reminded me of no one more than Short Round, the mischievous wise-cracking kid from "Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom." He continually used his abracadabra black magic to curse us other players into being "jumpers," which is about the worst thing you can do in the game. And he changed the words to "We Are the Champions" to make a new composition -- "We Are the Jumpers."

Of course, he beat us all in the end.