Hi Everyone! Thanks for following my stay in Mongolia!
I’m including a link to pictures- Adventure Lady on Flickr – as well as a link to my new blog The London Chronicles!
Since returning from Mongolia, I’ve been accepted into a UNC Chapel Hill study in London program…looks like I’m off again! (Promise I’ll graduate, Mom!) I’ll begin the adventure on January 8, with expectations of returning April 10. Then again, with the summer before me…we’ll see!
Kudos to NPR for this coverage:
NPR, Sept 9: Widespread Alcohol Abuse Clouds Mongolia’s Future
NPR, Sept. 8: Global Financial Crisis Hits Mongolia’s Grasslands
The second article leaves a lot to be desired in terms of reasons for the economic crisis in Mongolia- the article cites a drop in cashmere sales, which is true for nomadic herders. The nomadic way of life isn’t an accurate portrayal of Mongolia, as more than half of the 2.9 million people live in the capital alone, not to mention other urban cities. It’s just a snapshot of what’s really happening.
In short, the article completely missed the real story. Determining ways to save Mongolia from the economic crisis won’t, in fact, save Mongolia- the economic crisis isn’t the real problem.
What the article only hints at is the complete disarray of Mongolia’s banking system. It mentions Mongolia’s “seasonal economy” and the “immediate fix” in the form of mining, but fails to mention the history of the unregulated, two-tiered banking system. The term “immediate fix” is quite fitting- with the current banking system, the revenue from mining (if the legislation works in the peoples’ favor) can be only a short term solution. It would be just a matter of time before liberal lending and a lack of reserves hurt Mongolia again.
I’m back from 4 days in the countryside, which I recap below. We traveled to check out the deer stone project funded by the U.S. Embassy.
Day 1:
Driving. Driving. More driving. We left “civilization” and paved roads to kick it in “real Mongolia.” Shocking, to say the least. From what I can tell, UB is the most industrialized part of Mongolia. Other towns consisted of shanty’s posing as restaurants, hotels and art shops, with little or no running water/electricity. I prayed several times a day for reasons pertaining to sanitation, as we were served food in bowls that were clearly poorly washed by people who were clearly poorly washed.
The number one thing that concerns me about the countryside is the lack of medical attention. On our way back to UB, we stopped to eat in a little town and met a boy whose eye was red because a fly had laid three eggs on it. There was nowhere to take him. No hospital, no ambulance, no doctor’s office. My coworkers offered eye drops, which may or may not have helped (or hurt) him, and there was nothing more that could be done. My coworkers would say things like “Ah, no worries, drink this homemade vodka, very good for your liver.” I would look at them and think “Yes, but how do you know?” I was particularly afraid as a westerner, because my immune system, due to our sanitation standards, is certainly not up to par with the Mongolians’. Their ability to handle certain conditions is far better than mine.
At any rate, we met up with Bayar, the director of the archaeological team that was heading the Deer Stone project. We followed him and his team to a separate site they had been excavating- local legend holds a king once lived there. I was able to take away (with permission) a shard from the traditional Asian style roofing tiles. Very exciting. Almost made me wish I had continued my work in archeology.
The hotel we stayed at that night was shanty-like, but with exceptional service. All country-dwelling Mongolians seem to be particularly eager to host travelers, regardless of payment. We had two meals at the hotel and the total for our stay came to about 10,000 tugrik- or $6.50.
Day 2:
We made it to the deer stone site. We received a briefing on the history of deer stones before watching them place the last one.
The stones in Arkhangai are several thousand years old. They had lain broken and subject to element/animal abuse for several hundred years, after nomads removed them in order to build a small village. Bayar and his team had stood them upright (quite a feat, since the largest weighed about one ton) in cement, in hopes of restoring their historical heritage.
***
HISTORY OF DEER STONES IN ARKHANGAI
A deer stone is a vertical slab of stone carved into the shape of a person. The “person’s” clothing depict many reindeer for speculative reasons- Bayar’s team believes it is because Mongolian legends state that they descended from the reindeer and that the deer are great protectors. The “person” also has a necklace and belt, which denotes their status. Only once has a deer stone been found with a face carved into it. Bayar believes that the faces were painted on and have since worn off with age/ torment of the elements.
Each stone once stood erect, facing the sun, and guarded a mass grave of horse bones. It is believed that the deer stone stood as a memorial to the man to whom the horses belonged (according to tradition, whenever a great man died, his horses would be slain so they could carry him to the heavens). The site at which we stayed is the largest deer stone site in Eurasia.
Sketching the images on a deer stone.
Close up of the reindeers on the Deer Stone.
***
Fun fact about Mongolia: one of their biggest sports is volleyball. They even have a mock “beach volleyball” tournament that is televised annually. We played for the better part of the day, although I had no clue about the rules and mostly just got in the way or made unintentionally amusing errors. My team did win in the end 
That evening, we made merry at a neighboring ger camp.
***
GER LIFE
GER (Pronounciation: GARE) A round hut lived in by the nomadic Mongolians.
It is customary for men to enter a ger first and sit next to the host, followed by the women.
Mongolian tradition holds that the host must pass around a bowl of Airag (fermented mare’s milk) to each person, beginning with the men, and then at the same time offer homemade vodka. It is rude to refuse the host, so one must sip on the Airag (or if one is Mongolian, gulp it down) and the vodka, while taking and returning the bowl in a particular fashion. This happens at least three times. Unfortunately, Mongolians are not unlike Native Americans in the fact that they are very susceptible to liquor and quite easily become drunk. (This experience was repeated whenever we met with a ger family: three rounds of Airag and homemade vodka. It didn’t matter the time of day. And what was particularly unnerving was that we were often driving when they would decide to stop for a drink or meal.)
***
As the only American, I was given what was jokingly called the “seat of honor” and was asked to sit on a Mongolian saddle (there were not enough seats). Our host, who was already drunk when we arrived, then led us all on a rousing chorus of whatever came to his head. As customary, we each left a small gift in appreciation of their hospitality. Although I was a little concerned at the time, it turned out to be one of the more enjoyable countryside experiences.
A ger.
Day 3:
We left the Deer stone site and went to visit the old capital of Mongolia, Khor Khorum. We had several adventures while visiting one of the oldest monasteries in Mongolia, which includes one of my coworkers climbing up onto a platform with Monks while they were calling other Monks to prayer so she could have a picture with them; taking footage of the Monks during their ritual chants *CLICK HERE* (Sorry it’s so shaky. I wasn’t supposed to take a video/pictures, so I was trying to act “normal”, haha…maybe they didn’t want anyone to see that one had to pay in order to pray…what’s up with that?) and finding a ladder so we could scale the monastery wall to reach the otherwise unreachable guard tower. We also stopped by several popular open markets to buy gifts. I’m assuming the items for sale, many of them old relics, were stolen.
Monks issuing the call to prayer.
Temple.
We also took a detour to see a “natural wonder”: a rock in the shape of a particular male organ. I highly doubt it is a natural creation, but the other’s seemed to think so.
That night we stayed in “Dreamland,” a very nice so-called resort (probably titled so because they actually had showers and real bathrooms). Every building was a ger, including the on-site restaurant.
Day 4:
Drive, drive, drive. More driving.
Unfortunately, I got food poisoning from the breakfast at Dreamland (ironically, it was eggs and bacon), and spent the whole trip back vomiting. I felt really bad for my coworkers, but they were very patient with me. While I’m on the subject…
FOOD
Meals
Mongolian countryside food is very different from the food in the city. The land is not arable, so Mongolians mostly eat fatty sheep. While in the countryside, I was able to try lamb, lamb heart, lamb liver and lamb lung (very tough. And stretchy). I asked for lamb brain, but apparently it is a delicacy. The lamb is often boiled, since it is easier to cook in that manner. We did try “Mongolian barbecue,” – grilled lamb. I highly recommend it.
Mongolians will occasionally eat Marmot, but Americans were warned not to eat it because they carry the bubonic plague.
Otherwise, “soup” with noodles is the meal. Drinks, other than Airag and homemade vodka, consist of milk-tea (milk mixed with water and salt). If one let it sit for a while, a fine film of curd would appear at the top.
Snacks
Little bars made of curd and topped with yogurt are generally eaten for snacks. Mongolians also make nice little breadsticks.
***
Anyway, it was a great experience and I’m so glad I was able to go!
Well, that’s quite a bit of writing! I’m signing off for now! Hope everyone is well!
Hannah
I’m heading up to Arkhangai Province for the Embassy. Public Affairs will be taking pictures as a Deer Stone project finishes this week.
It’s a 10 hour ride out, but the roads are so bad it will take much longer. (We’ll be camping out! I’m definitely bringing toilet paper.) I’ll be out there until Wednesday, so I won’t have access to the internet. But, I’ll take lots of pictures!
Also, PA went into the countryside today to visit a physical therapy center. It was better than I expected, but still rather dismal. Even though it was only mildly chilly today, it was clear the building was in no shape to keep out any type of unwanted weather. The wooden floors were covered in wall paper and some of the doors to the various rooms were broken. They had no mechanical equipment, and most of what they did have was made of metal, which would be painful to use during the winter season (if it can be used at all). There was a heater in each room (power lines and generators were somehow able to extend an hour and a 1/2 outside of the city), but even in the city, electricity and hot water are not dependable. At least the embassy is helping them out financially. And, at least there is such a place.
I’ll be back in touch soon!
Hi everyone,
Sorry for the long absence…I’ve been without Internet connection at my apartment for several weeks now, and the connection at local cafe’s/pubs is very unreliable.
At any rate, everything is well! I will be busy this week with an incoming speaker on global climate change policy. I’m looking into extending my time in Mongolia, as I was offered another internship. I’ll keep you posted.
The Embassy attended the Peace Corps swearing-in ceremony two days ago…we’ll be uploading that to Youtube soon. I’ll post a link when it is available.
I’m excited to announce that I may bring the Public Affairs section into the 21st century! I’ve written a proposal to use Hi5 (an international version of Twitter- highly popular in Mongolia) and Facebook for promotion purposes. My boss likes the idea, but it’s still under debate. Cross your fingers for me.
I have more pictures and a video of traditional Mongolian songs/dances that I’ll upload soon…it’s such a long process and I’m short on time at the moment.
Stay safe!
Hannah
“You speaka Englis?” the man at the counter asked. I looked back at him and hesitantly said yes. Oscar, the embassy contract worker with whom I was walking, quickly stepped between me and the man, saying “Yes, I do.”
The man at the counter sauntered past us to the steps. He greeted another man at the top of the stairs. They watched as we cautiously climbed towards them; our party was waiting in the restaurant through the door directly behind them.
“You speaka Englis?” the same man asked again. The other, leaning against the wall, echoed him. They were both smiling.
“Yes,” Oscar repeated patiently. “Parlez-Vous Français? Italiano? Español, señors?” I stared at him- partially because I couldn’t believe he was going to try and get around these men, and partially because I was trying to figure out if he actually spoke the languages he just offered.
The two Mongolians joked with each other before the one from the counter said, “Eh, yes, who is the…the…ruler of Korea?”
They must be drunk, I thought. I wanted to leave, to find another way in. Maybe a back door?
Oscar repeated the question and turned to me with searching eyes. Incredulous, I blurted “North or South?”
“North or South?” Oscar repeated to them, as though he was translating.
The two men again spoke to each other in Mongolian before the man from the counter answered “North!”
“Kim Jong Il,” I replied, so grateful I’d taken a class on Asia. Oscar repeated my answer to them several times, butchering the name worse each time he said it.
The two men laughed and shook our hands. “Yes, you may go!” they said moving aside. “If you need anything, you ask me!” he said, patting Oscar on the back.
“All right, thanks so much,” Oscar said as he pried his hands from their grasp. We walked into the restaurant, Oscar smiling. “I guess they got bouncers.”
- Story from the Casa Blanca restaurant in the Bayangol Hotel, Bayangol district, UB.
The CODEL arrived this weekend. I won’t write much on this matter- I’ll say more upon my return. I will say that I took the spouses to the Gobi Cashmere factory while the politicians visited the Mongolian president and prime minister. We went on a tour of the factory and were able to see a live performance and runway show. That was definitely fun (look for a video soon!)
It has been hectic since I last wrote. I have a new temporary boss, Nick Snyder from Beijing. He will be leaving at the end of the month and my permanent boss will return from leave. I have been able to do several exciting things, including speak with the press offices of the prime minister, minister of foreign affairs, and the president (although, I really didn’t do anything but add extra body warmth to the room). I’ve also been able to do a lot of boring things, like sift through piles of applications to make sure they have the appropriate documents inside. But, overall, I’m still very much enjoying my time at the embassy.
I have recently acquired another job, as well- babysitter. For $50 a night (only one or two nights a month) I can watch a coworkers sleeping daughter. Pretty good deal, haha!
And I’m so excited because there is a Bollywood festival here(!), which is a guilty pleasure, I’ll admit. I’m going to invite my ESL class to go with me on Wednesday.
My roommate is leaving Wed. morning. She is happy to go. I will have a large apartment to myself. It will be lonely, but hopefully the Mongolian friends I’ve made will make up for it. I’m also hoping that I won’t be forced to move to Faulty Towers (I’ve had a family offer to let me move in with them if so, but as it’s the same family for whom I’m babysitting, I suspect they have other motives, LOL).
I will be posting pictures from my trip to the country side (Terelj- the same that are on Facebook) and a few from the non-tourist perspective of Ulaanbaatar, soon. I hope everyone is well!!
Standing atop the small mountain and gazing across Mongolia was like holding the country in a snow globe. The city spanned to the left, the sloping hills of Gobi desert sand to the right, blankets of clouds and blue enshrouding it all.
The hills that did have grass looked deceivingly beautiful in the distance. Hiking to the top of this one, I knew that the grass was actually weed – and itchy. But, in the distance it looked like velvet. It was comforting, like sleep or books (classics, of course). As beautiful as it was, I knew that if one were to shake this snow globe, it would snow sand and trash.
Oh, Mongolia.
I had joined a group earlier that day to hike the small mountains on the outskirts of the city. The ride there was truly educational. We passed a Mongolian university, which looked much a like a scaled down version of a Yale or Harvard. I gasped inaudibly as we rounded a corner and were greeted by a 20ft tall, gold-leafed Buddha figure. Little ger’s were set up and down the hillsides in perfectly symmetric lines. It was funny to see these hut-like tents compiled into tiny neighborhoods, with a basketball court, looking awkward but worn, in the center of each.
The trees along the road were strewn with color- red, gold, blue and white cloths tied around the trunk or to each limb. Either a hurricane whipped through the area raiding someone’s clothes line or a practical joke went way too far, I first thought. I would later learn that the cloths were actually prayer scarves tied to the trees to bring good luck to travelers. I didn’t want to think about the accidents that must have happened in order to cause such a reaction.
When we arrived at the base of the desired hill, the majority of us set off for the top. I saw a few oddities, such as a round mound made of rocks and sticks that we all traipsed around three times, some because they were superstitious and me because it looked fun. I was told that the mound represented the mind of Buddha and to walk around it three times was to bring upon oneself good karma. Well, the karma must have known I was very amused by this thought, because my foot caught on a rock jutting from the ground my last time around, nearly face planting me into the dirt. The superstitious hikers were wary of me afterwards.
I also saw more common things, like clothes. On the way up the hill we would wander past a pair of trousers, a jacket, a sock, and a shoe. At the top of the hill there was a pile of empty Chinggis Khaan beer bottles. I tried to look out for the one-shoed naked man, but he never arrived. I have a feeling Mongolians like to undress and throw their clothes when they are drunk, as one can find much of the same walking the streets of Ulaanbaatar.
The tour is run by a German lady who comes to the embassy to sell baked goods. It costs 7,000 Tugrik (roughly $3) for 2 hours of hiking (intermingled with driving to and fro), as well as sandwiches and drinks she’d prepared at her bakery. Well worth it, I’ll say. I didn’t bring my camera the first time, as I was unsure what to expect and I didn’t want it to get stolen. I will do so next time, however, as it is everything my roommate said it would be- just a bunch of white people who want to hike.
My work in the embassy is still somewhat slow. I wrote two op-ed pieces for the Consular, but they won’t be used until later this fall. I’m helping on the selection committees of two exchange programs to America, and still preparing for official visitors.
Yesterday I went out to a PR event, which was great fun:
The community gym in which we stood smelled rotten. The rain had damaged it; the floor boards creaked and already smelled like mold. Approximately 30 people had died in the most recent flash flood, which destroyed ger’s, livestock and crops in the country side. The people of this particular district were lining the walls of the gym, waiting patiently as the officials made themselves look important for the various television stations in attendance.
I was accompanying one of my supervisors, Tina, and the “second in command” at the embassy, Nick. He stood in a long line of Mongolian officials, looking uncomfortable as his translator told him what was happening.
The U.S. Embassy had donated $25,000 to the Red Cross for the purchase of food for those affected by the flood. Nick had gone as a representative. The governor of the district introduced all the attending officials one by one, who smiled as the people gave a less than auspicious round of applause (a sign of frustration and impatience, I was sure). Much to my horror, my name was also announced (for some unknown reason), but I was thankfully tucked in the back behind the cameras.
After 10 minutes or so, they began to hand out food. There was this one really cute picture I’ll never forget: Nick, carrying two big bags of what looked like seed and salt, and this little boy around the age of four walking up to Nick, arching his back and scratching his head in equal confusion. Nick just looked at the boy with uncertainty, as he was clearly too small to take the load. They probably stayed like this for 15 seconds before someone realized the situation and dragged an older Mongolian from the line to take the bags. It was too funny.
The officials, flanked by the Red Cross, all made a show of handing the bags of food to the crowd for a good 10 minutes before deciding the cameras had enough footage. It was a fun, but sad, experience.
I have learned a lot about Mongolian culture that surprises me, such as the lack of concern about privacy, particularly for those who live in ger’s; the fact that traditional clothing is still worn daily by older generations; that, according to another co-worker, stating that Russia ever had any control over the Mongolian government has geopolitical consequences and that period must be referred to as the “socialist era”; and, not so surprising, that sales people at the black market can be very creepy (I was looking at a fox hat, and the sales people grabbed me, despite my repeated attempts at escape, and kept cramming it on my head and gesturing to my friend, John, how “great” it looked. He was no help, because he kept laughing and saying “It’s so you!”)
This weekend I am going to Terelj, which is located somewhere in the hills; I plan to ride a camel for $2, and do other things of which I’m unaware. (I treat my experience in Mongolia much like my co-worker, JT, treats his marriage: “I don’t understand the marriage, I’m just in the marriage.” We’re both just going with the flow, haha.)
I’m being safe as always, and thinking of you all. I hope you’re well!
Hannah
Hi everyone! My camera decided to work, so I decided to act like a tourist. Be patient with my captions- I’ve been here only a week, and I don’t know details about many of the attractions.
Weddings are held here.
I'm told that marriages are scheduled back-to-back.
This is a Ger, a round hut in which nomads (the country-dwellers) reside.
This is a resting area in the middle of an intersection, haha.
Parts of UB are very Artsy- this is located in a small park between two streets.
They don't sell Pepsi over here 
The Great Chinggis Khaan tribute.
I'm not sure what this is/says, but it looked neat.
I'm not sure what it is...but I'm sure it's important.
The Great Khaan, side view.
A statue of someone important enough to be made into a statue.
To the left: Russian Monument. Center: Khaan's head made out of stone on the hill side. Right: statue of some dude. Maybe Khaan. I don't know yet.
So, I’m sitting at my new desk in the U.S. Embassy in Ulaanbaatar, Mongolia. I look up to see schedules, forms and tasks tacked to the wall beside me. My eyes fall on one: Bomb Threat Report. And thus begins my epic internship.
While I work primarily in Public Affairs, I also skip around to Political/Economic Affairs and the Consular (where exit visas can be acquired; a lot of heart-wrenching stories from this department). Thus far, my tasks are remedial at best, although it is the summer and most people are on vacation. I am told I will write op-eds for the local papers soon, which will be really neat. We also have a CoDel (Congressional Delegation) coming in, and I will likely give them a tour of the capital. No pictures of the embassy, sorry. I’m not allowed. Getting my payment established has been difficult, but everyone here is really nice, so I’m working through it (and a special thanks to my Mommy).
I live in a guarded complex with the U.S., British and Canadian ambassadors. The apartment I share with Grace is really spacious; I may not be there for long, however, as there is talk of moving me back to the apartments known as Faulty Towers (notice that faulty has a capital “F”) in a few weeks. It’s just 3 minutes from the embassy, but rests in a rough part of town, I’m told. I’m not too worried about it, although I will miss the gym at the Star Apartments (my current residence) if I am moved. And, it’s farther from the Black Market and the “downtown” part of Ulaanbaatar. But, we’ll see.
More on food for Nate: The cafeteria in the embassy has a specialty: beef and egg. Sometimes it’s beef on egg or egg on beef, or egg in beef. On special days, it’s egg on beef in gravy. Today, it was egg on beef on salad. Depending on the day, the beef will be flat, mashed or in a ball. It is almost always served with white rice, shredded carrots and a cabbage concoction. Not too bad, though. The milkshakes here are the worst. It’s a little bit of ice cream in a little bit of liquid with a whole bunch of froth. I don’t recommend it.
In my spare time I’ve decided to teach English at the American Corner. I have about 14 “students” who already speak English quite well. I just help with their sentence structure. In return, they help me with Mongolian (I hope to be fairly fluent by the time I leave. Haha. We’ll see). I meet one of the students three times a week. It reminds me of working in the consular a bit…these students all want to go to America and they all have their reasons (and sob stories). I’ve provided all of the information I can (mostly fellowships, scholarships and exchange programs)…hopefully some of them will make it.
The cities sad story is evident at every turn…the majority of the construction sites will never reach completion. Buildings remain partially finished all over UB. The companies often run out of money or give up due to a struggle over a land title/documentation. And ironically, as much as the Mongolians distrust and dislike the Chinese, Chinese immigrant workers are necessary for almost any construction, to the point that construction halts if too few workers are available.
I hope to fix/buy a new camera soon- once I do, I’ll post pics of the tourist attractions. The largest functioning monastery in UB has a giant Chinggis Khaan statue on the front- it’s really a sight worth seeing!
*Sorry about the picture on the bottom! I’m too lazy to fix it right now, haha.
Although I didn’t go to bed until 5am my first day here, I awoke early in order to take in the sights. I met my roommate, Grace, who is from Duke University. She will be leaving in three weeks, which is unfortunate. We are the only two State Department interns here. My first day, Grace took me and another friend (Halshka from Poland) to eat at a nice Italian restaurant for lunch. We then traversed across town to what is known as the Black Market for shopping (thumbs up to this market…very cool).
The most dangerous part of Mongolia, I am told, is crossing the street. The road lines (if there are road lines) are difficult to see and stop/yield signs are non-existent. The traffic lights, few and far between, are mere suggestions. Mongolian drivers are worse than New Yorkers, and use their horns just as liberally. Furthermore, anyone and everyone is a taxi. One holds their palm face down to the street and cars will line up to earn a few extra Tugriks. It normally costs about $1 (1500 Tugriks) for a taxi ride. (Don’t fret, Mom and Dad. I know better than to do this).
Mongolians have a very odd sense of what is rude. For instance, it is rude to point (I’m sure many American mothers would agree with this ☺ ), thus, they use their entire hand to gesture to someone or an item. However, it is in their nature to be very aggressive with their bodies. There is no qualm with bumping, pushing or shoving one’s way through a market, and no apologies are expected.
They never talk about death (I discovered this by talking to an American, not a Mongolian). Their customs concerning death are very different- the women of the family will cook food for 40 days, and neighbors will come over and eat it (this is their grieving period). There will then be a “wake” in which the only mention of the deceased is a picture surrounded by candles set up in the house. During the funeral, the women will walk around the coffin three times, wailing, and then it will be buried. All graves are located far away from civilization and out of sight, hardly visited due to fear and distaste of the dead.
(Nate, this is for you.) The food here is good in a few places, but generally always questionable. “Fresh” vegetables must be washed with bleach because they are fertilized with human and animal feces. The capital, Ulaanbaatar (or UB), has quite a variety of restaurants and pubs, including Italian, Irish, American, Japanese and Korean. If one eats Mongolian food, however, it consists of mainly one thing: mutton. I have yet to try their food…Grace, my roommate, doesn’t have a great opinion of it, but it’s hard to get a good opinion of anything Mongolian from her. (Grace is Chinese and it is rather dangerous for her to be here. The Mongolians rather dislike the Chinese, particularly older generations, but luckily she was raised in America and speaks flawless, unaccented English, so everyone thinks she is American.)
The city here is incredible…it is a patchwork city, filled with old temples and building that are falling apart. At night, several buildings light up in neon colors for no real purpose. There are one or two Manhattan style buildings, but like all the others, they are falling into disarray. Many buildings are sitting half finished due to a lack of funds. The city “look” is poorly planned, as there is no real symmetry to it, but that in itself is endearing.
There are more tourists here than I had expected…down town is mainly a tourist attraction (although, one kinda gets the same rundown experience downtown that one would get anywhere else, haha). There are statues of Stalin, Chinggis Khan (Ghengis Khan, who is a hero of sorts), as well as Bhudda (the main religion, although religion is scarce) still celebrated around town.
Country folk and city folk are very different- country folk live in round tents called gers (pronounced “gares”) and are nomadic. They take care of cattle and their transportation, horses, are part wild. They are very friendly and are generally willing to take in weary travelers for a night. I’m hoping to travel to the country soon for a night of camping and camel riding☺
So far, I love it here! Sometimes I just pinch myself because I can’t believe it. It’s a little surreal. I’m so happy I was able to make it. A shout-out to my brother Jesse and sister Sarah for helping me:) Well, tomorrow is my first day at work. I shall be back on to describe that experience soon!
