Sightseeing in Central Mongolia

The second part of my nomadic adventure was spent in Central Mongolia.  I flew back from my Gobi adventure to UB and met my new guide (also called Zaya, who was only 20 years old, but treated me like she was my mother) and driver, Gana, who was late 20s, and is a cop in his day job. Zaya #2 had just graduated from University, studying translation (English and Russian), so she was much better at speaking to me than Zaya #1. We stopped at a market before heading off to get some supplies, and I couldn't resist the beautiful, round, plump, red apples, staring at me in the face.  I needed some fresh fruit (or fresh anything besides sheep) after eating ZERO fruits and less than a half of a vegetable over the previous four days.  They were the best $1 apples I ever had.  And soon after we needed to stop to use the toilet.

After the apples passed, our first goal was to find the wild horses in Hustai National Park.  People talk about these horses as if they are unicorns...not everyone can see them, and they are supposedly very beautiful, and can possibly grant wishes, and give you pots of gold.  The scenery was gorgeous, so we parked and admired the landscape, waiting to see if the horses would come out.  A guide from the park came with us with a pair of binoculars, constantly surveying the area for the majestic creatures.  Unfortunately they don't usually show themselves in the afternoon (which it was), and that day was no different.  So no unicorns for us, at least this time.  I found a video of them, just to make it seem like I saw them.

That guy is an expert at waiting for the horses

While waiting, Gana made me eat a weird meat sandwich, as a snack before lunch. I don't know what kind of meat it was, but it tasted like 90% fat and 10% salt, and I felt gross afterwards.  I tried not to complain about food being too fatty, because for them it's very important to eat all of the parts of the animal (and maybe also to build up their fat storage for winter).  Instead of having a second sandwich (Gana ate three), I ate another apple.

The road in Central Mongolia was a little more developed than in Gobi, at least while the roads lasted.  There were a few small villages along the way, with what could almost be considered strip malls; a sequence of small shops and restaurants lined up along the main road.  The only difference is that there were lots of pigs roaming around like dogs, and no toilets inside any of the restaurants (you still had to use the outhouses, which were on the opposite side of the street, or pee anywhere you felt like it).  Along the roads there were also lots of horses, cows, sheep and goats, so that was also different than a strip mall.  There were also mine fields of pot holes on the "paved" streets, where we'd have to slow down to about 5 mph to avoid them, and no other development anywhere around.  OK, so basically it wasn't anything like a strip mall.  

Mongolian strip mall

Even when the road is smooth, you face many obstacles

After a few hours, we arrived at our ger camp near some sand dunes. It was more rustic than the camps in Gobi (and older), in that there were no toilets or showers, and it felt even more like we were in the middle of nowhere.  We had to drive for miles over rocky terrain, super slow, just to find it.  Even though there were "outhouses" in the middle of a field, at least the toilets had wooden seats (very luxurious!).  But I still didn't understand the signs that ask you to throw the used TP in the trash bin (or recycle bin!!), even when there is a big hole in the ground for it. Ok, so I understand the signs (they were in English), but not the concept.  In my mind, that's even grosser than using a squatter toilet. There's literally a garbage can full of poopy paper sitting next to the toilet.  I don't like poopy paper anywhere around me. My tent had a big bed in it (Zaya and Gana stayed in another tent), but we had no lights, electricity or running water.  I think I was the only tourist in the whole camp, so it felt like VIP service when they came with hot wet towels for me to clean myself.

That's even worse than using a trash bin...

Luxury outhouse

Pretty nice dining tent

Nice scenic camp

VIP ger

Out of all the nights of the trip (besides the vodka/intestine night in Gobi, which I'll write about separately), the first night with Zaya and Gana was the worst.  I had some major food poisoning from the night before, and couldn't eat anything, nor sleep.  I must have worn out a path from my tent to the luxury outhouse in the middle of the night.  And for the rest of the trip, I couldn't eat any sheep meat, or else I'd throw up, and gagged just from smelling it.  For breakfast I asked for boiled rice in tea (aka chazuke), as a meal easy on my stomach. The staff was confused so I thought I could make it easier by asking for just rice and hot water. They seemed eager to please, but of course the "rice soup" came out filled with chunks of sheep meat.  Dammit.

On the way to see the biggest waterfall in Mongolia, we stopped to ride a camel, as you should always do on your way to see a waterfall.  Zaya led my camel while riding a horse in front of me.  She was a little reckless pulling us all over some hills and drops and ditches.  I thought the camel would fall down the hill, me tumbling to my demise, or sprain his skinny ankle on some rocks, but everyone came out in one piece.  I guess it wasn't his first rodeo.  I felt sorry for the camel because the leash (or whatever you call it) is connected to a pin in it's nose.  So when you pull on it, it's like pulling on the camel's nose ring!  Yikes.  I skipped lunch since I still didn't feel well, but Zaya found a shop for me to get a popsicle, which was great.  Somehow popsicles are always OK no matter how your stomach feels. It was difficult trying to find a place to eat lunch anyway, since many restaurants in the middle of nowhere might not serve you if you don't have a reservation.  Not because they don't have a place for you to sit, but because they might not have enough available food.

Zaya pulling on my camel's nose ring

At the restaurant we met a guy, who looked obviously foreign, with dirty clothes and a full beard.  He looked like a bum, to be honest.  But he was studying a map and came over to ask us a question, in English.  Turns out he is from France, and was riding his bike from France to China.  He decided to stop in Mongolia for a few weeks, since it's on the way (I mean, why not?).  I thought I was "roughing it", using squatters and not taking a shower, but he was sleeping in his tent, purifying his own water, and taking free hand outs from locals and tourists, rarely taking any transportation other than his mountain bike.  He had been on the road for TWO YEARS and didn't know when he'd finish.  A couple days later we passed him riding on a dirt road. We waved and honked, and scared the crap out of him.  I don't know if he recognized us, but I could almost see him mouthing swear words in our direction.

To get to the waterfall, we had to follow the trail along the river.  However, there wasn't much of a smooth route.  After hours of very slow driving, over the bumpy rocks, up and down small hills, dodging sheep, and watching every single Pitbull music video 100 times on Gana's GPS screen (GPS wasn't working but at least he downloaded some music videos), I was really sick of sitting in the car.  We needed to cross the river, but we couldn't find any path where the water was low enough, but also the bank was shallow enough for us to get down to the water without getting stuck on some huge jagged rocks.  A simple bridge would have been helpful!  We were following another car, because they looked like locals who knew where they were going.  But when they actually got stuck trying to cross at a certain point, we reversed and looked for a different path.  I wondered out loud if we should help them (since they were stuck in a river in the middle of nowhere), but both Zaya and Gana said "no", matter of factly, and that was the end of that conversation.  So if you are somewhere near the river in the middle of a field in the Mongolian countryside, please go save them.

Finally we found the camp and the waterfall.  We were in Orkhon Valley National Park, and it was quite beautiful, and especially nice to be around fresh water.  We walked from the camp to the waterfall, on a very pleasant evening, but I was freezing from feeling sick (I guess this happens when you get food poisoning). Zaya and Gana warmed my hands by each taking one and rubbing and blowing on them.  Gana also gave me his jacket. I felt like I was their small son, even though they are both younger than me.  It was a bit awkward (actually VERY awkward), but it helped a lot.  This camp wasn't so great, because the toilets and showers were shared between guys/girls, and they were dirty and old, the toilet seats were falling off and generally everything was uncomfortable and cold.  But I guess it was better than not having any toilets or showers at all.  Since I was so cold, I had to sleep with 3 blankets, my sleeping bag, and wearing ALL of my clothes.  Zaya and the camp attendants even took turns coming into my tent while I slept, to add wood to the fireplace throughout the night.  That was unnecessary, but I was very grateful.

Nice view of the valley

Orkhon Waterfall

The Orkhon river

The next day added a little bit of culture in addition to the nature we had been enjoying. Kharkhorin is home to the Erdene Zuu monastery, built in the 16th century, to demonstrate Mongolia's commitment to Tibetan Buddhism.  Both Zaya and the provided guide from the monastery were very helpful in explaining the art and history located there. We toured the temples and met some monks who were chanting inside.  It was pretty fascinating (and confusing) to hear about the history, all the Buddhas, the stories and beliefs.  I am interested to learn more about this, but there is so much information on the internet, it's hard to know where to start (I'm lazy).

Walls around the monastery

These monuments have spiritual significance (not sure about the skulls)

We ended up at our last camp, at Ugii Lake.  It was a very nice setting, and perfect weather to enjoy a swim.  But before that happened, I locked myself in the toilet stall, and had to wait several minutes until a girl walked by outside so I could yell to ask her to come and open the door.  For some reason there was a latch on the OUTSIDE of the stall door, and it locked itself when I went in. I'm not sure who was more embarrassed - me for being locked in the toilet, or the young girl whom I made come into the men's bathroom to let me out. But I did feel 100 times better than the day before, and thoroughly enjoyed sitting by the lake, taking a short swim, and watching the horses bathe.  Then we watched some guys pump water from where the horses were playing into a big tank on a truck.  Then they put that water into the water tanks attached to the camp showers and kitchen.  What?!  Wait a minute, what just happened?  So that's the water we bathe in, and even worse, drink?  I guess I wasn't having any tea that evening. It was a relaxing last day, and even though I was excited to head back to UB, and for my coming trip to Chicago, Seattle, and San Francisco, it was sad to leave. However, I was really looking forward to civilization for a hot shower (not with water horses bathe in) and a comfortable toilet seat.

Super peaceful at Ugii Lake

Except they pump lake water to use in the kitchen

My last night was not without some excitement.  I woke up in the middle of the night to the sound of something creeping around my tent.  I could hear it pacing around, coming close to the tent, then moving away, circling me.  I thought it was some monster, or night stalker, or Mongolian Blair Witch, but I didn't want to go outside to look.  I ran to the door to make sure it was locked, tried to ignore the sounds by putting on my ipod, and tried to go back to sleep.  In the morning, I could still hear it, even louder than before.  The noises were coming from two places now. I checked the door to listen for something outside, but nothing was there.  I gathered all my courage to crack the door open and peered outside, in both directions.  I didn't see anything, so I slowly made a small loop to see if I could spot what was out there, but not getting too far away from the door in case I needed to jump back inside to save my life.  Then I saw it.  The creature that was creeping around while I was trying to sleep, giving me nightmares, and making me want my mommy:  A stupid cow.

Dumb cows scare the crap out of me at night

A nomadic life in the Gobi desert

Since I had to spend 10 days in Mongolia for work (see post on my life in Ulaanbaatar), I had to spend some personal time exploring the country as well.  I  wanted to visit a few different places, but honestly I had no idea about any of them.  I considered going to Lake Khovsgol in the North, which is the younger sister to Lake Bajkal, but instead chose to visit the Gobi Desert in the south, and Central Mongolia, to the West of UB.  I couldn't do this alone, so I looked to hire a driver and a guide, asking a local tourist office to arrange something for me.  Within a day, they had an itinerary set up, along with 2 different drivers (one for each location) and 2 guides (both named Zaya).

The trip started with a short flight from UB to Dalanzadgad, a small town in the South Gobi.  It was easy for my guide to find me in the terminal because there was only one gate in the entire airport.  And by "entire airport" I mean a building the size of a 7-11 store.  I grabbed my small duffle bag from the baggage claim (which was a bin in the parking lot) and we headed on our way.  For 8 days away, I didn't take much clothes, as the travel agent told me people don't usually change clothes in the desert; since the air is pretty dry, even though around 80 degrees in August (60 at night), people don't sweat.  I could wash my running shirts and socks when we found a sink, so all I really needed was a few layers for the evenings, and some undies.  I didn't have much space anyway since most of my bag was filled with the sleeping bag and air mattress that the agent let me borrow.

We picked up a few cases of water at a shop (yes, they have shops!), some snacks, and a couple bottles of vodka for our host families, then were on our way.  I checked my Blackberry (rest in peace now that I have an iPhone), noticing that there was no data coverage (and mostly no phone signal at all), and realized I would be cut off from work completely.  Not being connected was OK, except travelling alone AND not being connected is a bit sad...I mean, without being able to post stuff on Facebook, what would I do with myself?

Zaya #1 was super friendly and smiley, always taking care that I was comfortable and happy.  She was fairly new to being a guide, so I would call her more of a translator than a guide.  She didn't know much about the areas we were visiting; instead she had to ask the driver and then she'd translate.  But we also had some problems with the translations, because sometimes she would say "I don't know how to say that in English", and that was the end of the story.  For example, she couldn't explain why the Gobi is considered a desert, even though there was lots of green-ish grass and shrubs around, and and not much sand (I thought deserts were mostly sand).  Well, it turns out I'm the idiot, because sand covers only 20% of the deserts in the world.  I guess it's considered a desert based on the climate, not on what's on the ground.  She also liked to answer open-ended questions with "yes" and a head-nod, which was super helpful.  But really, she was really nice, so it was hard to be upset.

An hour outside of the city we ran out of paved road and started driving on the dirt and grass, following tracks that other drivers had made.  There were no street signs or GPS, lots of camels staring out into the horizon, horses rolling in the dirt, sheep and goats bouncing around, acting like best friends, a handful of ger tents every few miles, zero trees, zero shops, zero gas stations, and zero help if something happened to our car.  Somehow, our driver (who was named Erdenbat, which took me 3 days to learn how to say) knew where he was going based on the landmarks - hills, dunes, settlements, etc.  If I tried to drive there by myself, I'd still be out there.

Lots of difficult terrain like this

Not the kind of traffic jam I'm used to

The plan was to stay in ger camps for a few nights, which were like camp grounds with gers built for guests; some camps having a dining hall, maybe a shower (with slow dripping water), and if you were lucky, an actual toilet.  But usually they had poor plumbing, so you had to throw the used TP into a trash bin NEXT TO the toilet.  In my mind this is even nastier than pooping in a hole in the ground - especially when the trash bins have swinging lids, because the swinging lids get POOP ON THEM!

We were also going to stay a few nights with whatever nomadic families we came across in the middle of the desert.  We found our first family around lunch time, and I was really excited, and a bit nervous.  Erdenbat seemed to know the family from before and I think he arranged the visit before we arrived, which was probably difficult since there is no phone or internet.  Either that, or he just knew approximately where they live and planned to just show up and ask if there is free space.  They immediately fed us some home made donuts, fermented horse milk (which was just sitting in a big bowl inside the tent for who knows how long, and tasted like sour milk mixed with vodka), and a boiled goat/sheep's milk that curdled on top after sitting out.  They consume several liters of milk each day, since they have dozens of horses, goats and sheep, and nothing else to do with it.  I didn't want to ask (I wasn't so brave on the first day), but I was worried this was going to be our only food for lunch.  So I ate a few lactaid pills, plugged my nose when drinking the milk (they pass it around in a communal bowl and everyone takes turns), and ate about 20 donuts.

The first family's tents and "farm"

Home made donuts and a cauldron of fermented horse milk

I started feeling sick when the actual lunch came out (fried noodles with sheep meat and canned Polish pickle salad).  Every meal turned out to be something similar to this: sheep, with some "vegetables" (i.e. very few pieces of potatoes, carrots, and/or onions), either with noodles, in soup (with noodles) or with rice.  Sometimes it was in the form of a dumpling, or came with chunks of fat in it; sometimes it even had various insects or even some black strands of hair.  No matter the variation, it always had the same core ingredients.

Horse meat dumplings

The gers are bigger inside than I thought.  They're not "big", but they're comfortable enough for a few people to sit around and chat, and for a couple beds.  They are made from a wooden frame (lots of parts that must fit into a puzzle just perfectly), wool insulation, a cover over the top, and a hole in the middle for ventilation and the chimney.  This particular family also used solar power (for heating water I imagine) and a satellite dish to watch a 13 inch TV, so they weren't totally backwards in time.  Since most of their lifestyle revolves around their livestock (and they spend most of the day milking them or tending to their needs), they need to move their entire camp every few months to make sure the animals are finding enough fresh grass.  And usually they go back to the same site in the winter, to the permanent animal shelters they've built.  Supposedly they follow the Nomad Bro Code and nobody claims someone else's shelters when they're not there.

Inside the family's ger

The man was making some rope from hide while we ate lunch, then they let me watch them milk the animals.  It was funny that they have to trick the mommy horses into thinking a baby was drinking, by having the baby stand next to it and take a few sucks, then taking the baby's mouth away from the boobies and pumping it into buckets.  It's such an interesting lifestyle.  I found a short article about nomadic life generally that is pretty interesting.

Erdenbat and the lady of the house, milking horses

The goats' turn

Most of the animals are really smart too, as somehow, even after roaming around all day, they return just in time for the evening milking.  Zaya told me they come home just after sunset, and sure enough, as dusk settled in, I looked out on the horizon and could see a giant wave of sheep and goats coming home.  However, there was one time where we were walking around some river bank around sunset, and noticed 4 random goats jogging after us.  Once they caught up to us, they slowed down and just walked with us.  It was really cute because the "leader" of their fellowship was just a little guy, obviously younger, but less clueless than the others.  I think they thought we would lead them home, because they followed us for a good 10 minutes.  But we weren't going to their "home"; we were going to our car.  We didn't even know where their home was.  So I think we disappointed them when we drove away, leaving them standing and looking around, wondering where the heck they were.  Sorry guys.  I said MOST of them are smart.

Goats following us

Everything (and everyone) seemed pretty clean, considering there are no showers, washing machines or running water around.  It was peaceful that the only sounds were the wind, footsteps and bit of neighing and snorting from the horses (this actually got annoying at night when I couldn't fall asleep because of it).  I also had to carry baby wipes every where I went, since I was nervous how my stomach would react to all the dairy from lunch (but apparently it was low lactose).

Their "bathroom sink"

During some of our rest time, Erdenbaat passed me a smooth bottle made out of some kind of stone.  It looked like a bottle with magic potions, so I inspected it, nodded and smiled, trying to communicate that it was interesting to me, then passed it back.  Then he motioned to me to unscrew the cap, pull out the small spoon (it looked like the little brush at the end of a bottle of nail polish), and put the scooper up to my nose.  What?  I looked super confused so he took it from me, scooped up some of the powder that was inside the bottle, and stuck it up one of his nostrils.  He closed the other nostril with his fingers and inhaled, sucking the brown powder off the scooper.  Then he did the same thing in the other nostril.  For a minute I waited to see if he would start acting crazy, like it was some drug or something.  Nothing happened, so when he offered it back to me, I figured I had to do it.  I didn't want to offend him on our first day together.  I went through the motions just like he did, put a small pile of whatever it was on the tip of the spoon, and gently sucked it up my nose like a delicate princess.  Nothing happened.  He laughed and made a strong nose-sucking sound, plugging one nostril, urging me to do the same.  So I did, sucking much harder than the first time, and I think it sucked all the way up into my brain.  I let out a monstrous sneeze.  He laughed again, harder this time, and I gave it back without trying the other nostril.  He could tell from the tears in my eyes that I didn't need another hit.  Even as I write this, my nose is itching and I have the feeling of pepper in my throat.  Zaya couldn't explain what it was at the time, other than saying "it's something from a plant", which could have meant it was anything from mushrooms to cocaine to blueberries. It "tasted" a little bit like cinnamon, and my instincts told me that if it tasted like cinnamon it couldn't be bad for me.  Turns out that it was snuff, and it was my first and only experience putting tobacco in my body (until the second time I did it, when saying goodbye to Erdenbat at the airport - but I had to because he was an awesome guy).

Erdenbat and a camp owner inspecting each others' snuff bottles

The three of us shared a tent that night (a guest tent the owners rented out), which was about $5 per person for 3 meals and a bed.  There were huge spiders crawling around everything but I just ignored them when I turned off my headlamp. Since there was no running water, I "washed up" with some wet naps I bought in UB.  The outhouse was a couple hundred meters from the tent, so going out there in the dark was a bit scary. The weather was cool but comfortable, not needing more than shorts and a long sleeve t-shirt in my sleeping bag (I didn't want to sleep in the blanket that the family provided because who knows who or what else slept in there - but I guess I could ask the same question about the borrowed sleeping bag).  I did wake up every morning with strange bug bites all over my body, but I guess it's a normal hazard of sleeping in the desert.  After a breakfast of donuts, more milk products, and tea made with cloudy hot water (I tried not to think about why it was cloudy), we were off on the super bumpy roads through fields and fog.

A two "stall" outhouse was a luxury

The next night we stayed at a ger camp, which meant I could charge my iPad!  The camps usually turn on the electricity for a couple hours each evening for this, which was nice, so I could watch some movies before bed.  All of the camps had very nice people, friendly and attentive, but didn't speak much English. Erdenbat and Zaya napped while I went for a jog around the camp, chasing some camels through the open plains for a picture.  I ended up running about 6km chasing them all over (partly because I forgot my camera battery in my tent and had to run back after already reaching the camels...and when I went back to them, they had moved further away).  Then I remembered Zaya warning me about snakes, spiders and scorpions and I panicked and returned home as fast as possible. It was nice to have time to sight-see, but also to relax and not worry about anything.

The camels I chased around the desert

I was sitting on the patio in the warm afternoon sun, about to open my iPad, when the camp owner came over to stand by me. I was the only person on a giant patio, so it was kind of awkward. He was staring and smiling at me, so I asked if I could help him with something.  Hopefully with something that would make him go away.  Then he talked to me in 1 or 2 word sentences, obviously not comfortable communicating in English. It was weird at first, but it turns out he was just trying to be friendly. His young son came over, said "hello", and looked like he wanted to play with my iPad, so I let him take a look.  Within 10 seconds he could figure out all the commands to the FIFA soccer game (while I suck at it even though I can read the English commands). He gave his little sister (who looked about 3) a chance to play some Angry Birds, then got frustrated that she couldn't do it, so he took over.  I spent the next hour waiting for him to finish.  Once in a while he'd whimper and show the screen to me, because it was asking him to click on some buttons to get to the next menu (and he couldn't read it).  I just sat and watched, and wandered around taking pictures.  At least he played as the Seattle Sounders, and kept winning. Just when I thought I was getting it back, his dad returned and the two of them played while I watched, again. The sun was shining, I had a Golden Gobi beer in hand, my mind was clear, and I actually couldn't have been happier.

I won't be seeing that iPad for a while...

A few places we visited
- Yolyn Canyon - a peaceful hike along a small stream with fresh crisp air.  The stream turns to a sheet of ice in the winter (even in the middle of the desert).  At the time I was surprised to see horses and a "toilet" that was just a hole in the ground with 4 walls and a roof built around it.  I didn't know that I would be using these toilets for most of the next week.

Yolyn Canyon

- Khongoryn Els sand dunes - we tried climbing to the top of them, but they were much higher than they looked from the bottom.  I didn't want to get stranded in the sand, so we came back (to see our driver inspecting under the car hood, which is worrisome when it happens in the middle of nowhere).

Zaya #1 on the sand dunes

- Flaming Cliffs - some red rock formations that reminded me of a super miniature Grand Canyon, as well as some sand monuments, and historically they've found many dinosaur bones there.  This was really nice to hike around, until our driver forgot to pick us up in the middle of the desert.  We climbed on top of small hill to see if we could spot him in the distance, or see anyone that could help us.  We saw some people who were out of ear shot, so we jumped around trying to get their attention.  A car (not ours) picked them up then drove away, without seeing us.  It felt like being in some tragic movie, when the people are so close to being rescued, only to be ignored, and they have to eat each other to avoid dying of starvation. Luckily, after a long, worrisome hour, our driver found us. 

Sitting on top of the Flaming Cliffs

While waiting to die in the desert, I took some pictures

A few other tidbits:
- The landscape was changing with every day's drive; from rocks, to sand, to flat lands with tumbleweed, to hills, to red cliffs.  It was great just to stare out the window while driving.  Here's my album of pictures I took from the car ride.
- My guides always answered the same questions when we were approached by other Mongolians.  I could hear their response, the same every time: "No, he's American.  From Japan.  Yes, I know he looks Mongolian".  
- I got used to being called "Oy!" by everyone.
- Here's a question: when you use a translator, are you supposed to look at the translator when you talk, or to the person for whom the speech is intended, even though they don't understand you?
- Erdenbat wore the same clothes the whole time (except sometimes he took off his fleece or his hat).  I guess he's used to it after 15 years.
- Sheep have really weird tails, and they are best friends with goats, always running around together.

Look at those weird tails!  

Mongolia part 1 - living it up in UB

During my four years living in Poland, I've traveled for work to a lot of places around Europe - from big tourist destinations like Moscow, Prague and Budapest, to less "glamorous", but equally beautiful places like Romania, Slovenia and Estonia.  My last trip, to Mongolia, was possibly the most exotic of them all.  It's a funny question why I would travel to Mongolia since I work in the Central and Eastern European region, but for some reason they fall under our umbrella.  It meant an extremely interesting trip, one which saw me spend more consecutive days there than I have in any other country in my life, besides the US and Poland.  After 19 days, even the locals thought I was Mongolian (they actually thought this even on the first day).  Because I had to fly to the US directly from Mongolia for Geoff and Hannah's wedding in Chicago, then Byron and Aileen's in San Francisco, I was out of Warsaw for an entire month. And this was the start of an around-the-world journey.

The trip didn't start off so smoothly, as I locked myself out of my apartment on the morning of my flight, with my suitcase still inside.  As the taxi was waiting to take me to the airport, I decided to take the trash out just before I went to the taxi.  I left my suitcase inside the front door while I went out to the bin, but when I came back to get my bag, the electronic key pad on the door wasn't working.  The door wouldn't open, so I couldn't get my bag from inside. At first I was calm, trying the key pad over and over again, but as 10 minutes passed, and the key pad wasn't responding, I started to panic.  The taxi driver called me, asking where I was, to which I responded "I'm coming, but the door isn't working" in Polish.  This probably didn't make any sense, but it bought me a few extra minutes.  Then some drunk looking kid came up to the door and tried to buzz one of the apartments.  He also noticed it wasn't working, so he tried calling someone (his friend who lives inside, I imagine), and started banging on the window closest to the front door. A couple minutes later, the kid who lives in that apartment came outside in his towel, looking around, but his friend was gone.  I didn't bother explaining what happened, I just said "excuse me", grabbed my suitcase, and ran for the cab.  To this day, I'm not sure if he thinks it was me banging on his window, or the drunk kid who may or may not have been his friend.

Packing for this trip was pretty difficult.  I had to spend 8 days teaching training, a weekend in the city, a week in the desert/countryside, then time in SF, Chicago, and Seattle, including a couple of weddings.  I tried to bring the bare minimum of clothes, but not knowing what the weather in Mongolia would be, it made it pretty difficult.  I ended up bringing a lot of clothes I didn't mind just leaving there, in case I ran out of luggage space (after souvenirs and buying more stuff in the US, which I always do).

I took a flight to Moscow, then a red-eye to Ulaanbaatar, the capital of Mongolia (I don't think it's a coincidence that the name of the city has so many a's in it, and they have so many sheep who say "baaaaaaaaa").  I love that the locals call it "UB", because it sounds hip, and makes it a lot easier for people to say.  I tried learning some Mongolian words when I was there, but they are really difficult for me to pronounce.  Some of the words sound a bit "slobbery", like they haven't swallowed their saliva in a few hours. I just couldn't get this. People's names were also difficult (and long).  I had to ask everyone in the office to say their names a few times, and to tell me their "short" names, which were much easier (and pretty cute and fun).  I was also confused as to why many of them have the same first name as someone else's last name.  And by "many", I mean everyone.  The reason is that people use their father's first name as their surname.  So, instead of Tristan Sakura, I would be Tristan Frederick.  It explained a lot, and now I would like to call you all by your father's name.

Car talk:
On the way from the airport to my hotel, I immediately noticed that the concept of roads is different in Mongolia than where I am used to (and this doesn't even consider that outside of the capital, there are not many paved roads at all). There were 3 lanes for cars on this stretch of highway, but there wasn't any clear sign who was entitled to which lanes.  Clearly the right lane is for traffic going in my direction, and the left for cars coming the opposite direction.  But the middle lane was being used by anyone and everyone that wanted to.  Big 4x4s were going in all directions using the lane, swerving in and out just when you thought there would be a massive explosion of vehicles, everyone honking like they were having a honking contest.  At least my driver used his blinker diligently, to warn others about his planned craziness.  I was gripping my seat with white knuckles.  As a side note, some of the cars have the steering wheel on the right side, and some on the left, which is awkward, but it also makes it harder for cars with right-side steer wheels to overtake others...they can't check for oncoming traffic without going halfway into the other lane, which causes more swerving and honking.

We also had an adventure in the car on the weekend, coming back from Terelj (more on that later), where there was so much traffic on the two-lane road (one in each direction), that the cars going back to the city (as we were) started driving on the shoulder.  Then when that filled up, a third lane formed on the dirt next to the shoulder (which went really off-road, veering away from the road, behind houses, through a small stream, then back), and when that filled up, and other cars stopped coming in the other direction, people took over the other lane as well.  So on a road built for one lane going towards the city, we had four, and we were barely moving.  It reminded me of the opening scene from The Walking Dead, where you see all of the lanes of stopped cars, after everyone got eaten by zombies.  Luckily there were no zombies.

Cars make their own lanes

Including this one, just to avoid traffic

Sometimes it was easier to call a taxi, rather than walk, and sometimes hailing a "gypsy cab" was easier than calling a taxi.  Similar to in Moscow, if you just put your hand out along side the road, cars will pull over asking where you want to go.  And generally they'll take you to most places in the city for $2-3.  Once I tipped $2 in a taxi, as well as to the guy helping me with bags in the hotel, and they looked shocked.  I guess a $2 tip is a lot for them, as normally people don't tip.

Generally it seemed that drivers everywhere were a little impatient, as we could hear honking all day from the office conference room.  They also don't stop for pedestrians, but that doesn't deter people from playing Frogger to get across a busy street, with or without the help of a crosswalk or a red light.  I even saw people standing in the middle of a 6 lane road, with cars going in both directions on either side of them, standing on the yellow line separating the lanes.  They had crossed the first 3 lanes and were waiting for a chance to cross the other 3. This worried me a bit, but apparently others don't even notice.

Get in my belly:
Before I arrived in Mongolia, I was warned that I would be sick of sheep meat by the end of the trip.  I didn't think it would happen to me, because generally I can eat the same thing every single day (like how I have cereal, fruit and a tortilla for breakfast every day).  But since everything has sheep meat in it, and due to other reasons which I will write about later, I am definitely sick of sheep meat.  That being said, there were still a few really tasty dishes (and some not so much), even those that included sheep:

- Khuushuur - fried meat dumpling (probably usually sheep) - very good
- Aaruul - dried/hardened yogurt "chips", probably made from sheep or goat milk - strange
- Buuz - meat (aka sheep) dumplings with a little broth inside, similar to Georgian khinkali - good
- Tsuivan - fried noodles with meat (i.e. sheep) and a tiny amount of vegetables (a small slice of carrot and onion) - good, when you don't want to throw up thinking about sheep meat
- Sheep head - they just put the cooked head on a plate and you eat everything that you can separate from the skull.
- Fermented mare's milk - One of the guys in my class said "you have to eat sheep head and mare's milk, but be careful about the mare's milk because some people get sick from it".  I was more concerned about a sheep head, to be honest.  Until I tried mare's milk and I gagged.
- Dried beef in milk tea - no thanks
- They really had a Mongolian grill restaurant, where you put meat, veggies and noodles in a bowl and they cook it on a giant hot plate in front of you.  I'm guessing it's made for tourists.
- Sadly, Mongolian beef, as I grew up eating at House of Hong, was nowhere to be found.

Buuz

The guys in the office helped me find a restaurant that served sheep head, so I could try it (I don't know why I wanted to).  When the head came out and was placed in front of me on the table, I almost fell out of my chair.  We were supposed to share the head, and of course, they gave the knife and fork to me, as the guest.  I had no idea what to do with it.  Most of the face is just skin, and there really isn't any meat, except in the cheek.  So I sliced off a piece of forehead skin (foreHEAD skin; that part of the word is very important) and chewed it a bit before swallowing.  Gross.  Then they made me try the eye ball, but I couldn't get it out of the socket, mostly cuz my hands were shaking and I was nervous to cut an eyeball out of a face.  It's normal to be uncomfortable doing that, right?  Ody helped me out then warned me not to eat the black part of the eyeball.  Of course I won't, everyone knows that.  In it goes, and down it went.  It actually wasn't too bad.  No eye ball juice burst into my mouth when I bit into it, so that was a pleasant surprise.  The tongue was relatively tasty as well, but the rest of it (lip, marrow, and other random parts of the face), were not too tasty.  In the end, my stomach felt fine and I lived to tell everyone from the office about it.

I don't know what to do with this

Oh, now eye know what to do

Generally there were no fresh fruits or vegetables, as they don't grow there, and since the people in the countryside are nomadic, they don't develop farms, tending only to animals. Once in a while, they'll go into town and buy groceries at a shop, but can't buy any foods that will spoil quickly, so they stick to potatoes, onions and carrots.  I really missed fruits and veggies, and when the guides and drivers around the countryside didn't eat theirs on the rare occasion we were given some, I was happy to help.  It pleased my bowels as well.  Speaking of the nomads, because their animals need to graze in different areas throughout the year, they move their tents every few months, which must be super annoying.

I also ate a lot of Korean and Japanese food there, as it was easier to find some good Asian food than in Warsaw.  It's not bad in Warsaw, but I believe in the law of proximity...the closer you are to the source, the better the food is going to be.  Plus there was a Korean restaurant in my hotel.

Yes, I worked:
So I actually did work while there, teaching four different training courses in the office.  Everyone was super nice and made my visit extremely comfortable.  I think they are used to having guests and taking personal care of them, because they are really good at it.  Everyone said hello to me around the office, people that I didn't really know invited me for lunch and dinner, even to meet on the weekend for a movie/drinks/day trip. With the exception of the people on my team, that hasn't really happened for me in 4 years in Poland.

The training sessions went well, and it was nice to get to know a lot of people there, which I did, since I was working until 9 or 10pm each night, just in time to go back to the Korean place for dinner.  At the end of my time there, the guys in the office gave me a fancy scroll with my name written in the old Mongolian script (looks like Arabic), which was a nice gesture.  I'm just not sure which side is up.

Sightseeing:
Besides eating, working and dodging cars, I was able to do a little sightseeing.  Ulaanbaatar is similar to many small-ish capital cities, with big buildings, heavy traffic, and statues for Ghengis Khan.  There are about 1.5 million people in the city (which is about half of the whole country's population).  There's also a lot of history and culture I was interested to learn about.

The main square from the office window

I really wanted to go to the Natural History Museum, but when I found it, it was closed due to "an unqualified state of the building" per the sign in front.  Indeed, the building looked like it might collapse on top of me if I tried to pull on the front door.  So I went to the National Museum, to learn a bit about the history of Mongolia.  A large part of the museum is about Ghengis Khan and how he united the country back in the early 1200s. The word "united" could mean he peacefully inspired all of the tribes to cooperate and come together, or it could mean he killed anyone who stood in his way.  It's strange how we admonish current political leaders who try to conquer others, fight for separation, and who generally disrupt "peace".  Yet, there are so many leaders from our history that we admire and treat as heroes, even if they killed countless people in war, and doing a lot of the things that the so called "bad guys" these days are doing.  Most "great" rulers in our world's history spent a lot of time killing and mistreating a lot of other people, yet their names are said with reverence by a lot of (at least the American) history books.

On the Sunday, Nomin and Tenger took me out to Terelj, a National Park about an hour outside of UB.  It was a great scenic drive, through small villages with colorful roofed houses, with horses and goats drinking from the small streams, rolling hills and rocky mountains in the background, and scattered ger tents throughout the open grass fields (steppes).  We did a bit of hiking, stopped for a nice rest and lunch of sheep dumplings, enjoying the peace of quiet of the countryside (opposite of the noise of the city), and went to a really fun horse show.  The show re-enacted some story about Ghengis Khan, including battles on horses.  The riders were mostly young boys, riding around at 100 miles per hour, sword fighting and jousting around the arena.  It reminded me a lot of a battle scene from Lord of the Rings.  Some of the horses even "died", falling to the ground and laying still until the scene was over.  They didn't really die.  And I was fascinated like a little kid.

Mountains in Terelj

Some ger camp in the fields

Horse battles like in LOTR

Dead warriors and horses

Some other interesting things about UB and Mongolia
- They use the Cyrillic alphabet.  Like a lot of Central and Eastern Europe, they were under Soviet/Communist influence until 1991, which probably led to this
- Before the Soviet influence, they were occupied by China until the 1920s (there is still a lot of animosity between the 2 countries).
- His name is actually Chinggis Khan.  It took a while to figure out this was the same as Ghengis (so why do we call him Ghengis?)
- Ulaan Baatar is the coldest capital city in the world.  In August, it was a very comfortable 80ish.  In the Winter?  Around -15F.
- Their biggest currency paper bill is 20,000 MNT, which is worth about $10.  If you need to make a big cash purchase, you have to carry around a duffle bag full of cash, or a briefcase handcuffed to yourself.  I had to pay my travel agent in cash for a plane ticket, and all the necessary bills hardly fit in my wallet.
- Bars in the city close at midnight on the weekends.  Boo.
- Companies that deal with foreigners charge in US dollars, to reduce the risk of currency valuation loss.
- The Mongol Derby is a 1000 km horse race where participants ride for 40ish km, then swap horses and keep riding until they feel like resting, similar to the old postal system (it takes 10 days or so).  Sounds awesome except my butt started to hurt after 30 minutes of horse riding.  This is a cool article about it.
- Pine nuts come from pine cones (surprise surprise).  Not just any pine cone, but a kind that you can find in Mongolia.  It was really fun to peel back the petals to find a little nut under each one.  Then you had to bite off the shell of the nut before you could eat it.  It made for a fun activity during the long car rides.
- Here's a timelapse video on youtube of UB so you can see how it looks.

Horse riding in Terelj

A pine nut cone, or however you call it

Coming soon: Living a nomadic life in the Gobi, and the time I ate sheep poop before it was poop.  

Completing my first Half Ironman triathlon

I recently did my first half IM in Poznan with a couple friends from WITC, completing it in 5 hours 41 minutes 51 seconds in 90+ degree heat.  Check out the article I wrote for the WITC website here (and don't forget to 'like' the WITC page!)

http://www.warsawtriclub.com/witc-at-the-poznan-triathlon/

A Russian Scottish Sicilian wedding weekend

A few days before heading to Sicily, I had the opportunity to attend a work dinner at La Civetta in Warsaw.  The restaurant is run by the wife of one of the partners I work with and he always wants us to organize events there.  After this experience, I will never say no.  The food was wonderful, the service is great, and his wife, along with others in the kitchen, are from Sicily.  So they know what they're doing.  Every single thing is amazing, including the eggplant, cheese and tomato salad, which includes 2 of my least favorite foods.  And I don't usually eat much ice cream, but at La Civetta, I got a sore elbow from shoveling the giant scoops of pistachio and dark chocolate ice cream down my throat at a dangerous pace, until I almost swallowed the goblet it was served in.  There were already numerous reasons to look forward to going to Sicily for Mark M. and Julia's wedding, but the dinner at La Civetta made me look forward to a weekend of Italian food even more.  

There was a great sense of excitement for a June weekend away in Sicily, topped off with a wonderful wedding, next to the beach, in perfect weather.  Apparently there is a lot of interesting stuff to see on the island, but for most of us, we just wanted to stay in the town of the wedding, relaxing in the sunshine and stuffing our faces with pasta, seafood, and ice cream.  There are only a couple Ryan Air flights per week from Modlin to Trapani so it seemed that half of WITC was on our plane that Friday afternoon.  I was responsible for picking up Polish vodka at duty free, but realized that when flying within the EU, buying alcohol at Duty Free costs a lot more than buying it in a normal shop (so we have to remember that for next time!).

After picking up the car at the airport, Mark P, Ewa, Volkan and I drove through the country side, we admired a stunningly beautiful island.  The place is littered with mountains and hills, with fields of grapes and olives and who knows what else all around.  The sea was visible along the coast, and there was not a cloud in the sky.

Sicily is the largest island in the Mediterranean, with 5 million people living on 25,000 sq km (although I'm not really sure what that means, it's much bigger than I thought).  I wondered, how, with the billions of Sicilians living in NYC, are there still so many people left in Sicily?  We stayed in Castellammare del Golfo, a small town on the Northern coast on the West side of the island (between Trapani and Palermo).  It was a perfect setting for a wedding, with beaches, great food, a super relaxed environment, and minimal tourists except the 50 Russians and WITCers there for the wedding.

Castellammare del Golfo (pic from Alan)

After we parked and approached where the apartment should have been, we noticed a slight problem.  We had the address of the apartment, but some of the buildings didn't have any numbers on them.  We walked around the neighborhood, and asked a nice lady to help us.  She didn't speak great English, but she combined a few phrases and constant hand movements to try to assist.  She didn't know which was our building, but we walked around the streets looking.  Then she asked some other neighbors to get involved.  People were coming out to the woodwork to watch us, sitting on the steps or chairs, while offering advice from the peanut gallery (in Italian).  There was even a Polish lady that could speak to Mark and Ewa since Italian wasn't really helping.  It was nice to see the whole neighborhood coming to our assistance (and others who must have been bored, since they spent their Friday evening watching us), and one person even offering us another apartment if we needed it.  After about 2 hours, we finally found our friends who knew where the apartment was, and had the key.  The apartment was right in front of our faces.

While trying to find our apartment, the neighborhood comes to help

Mark, Ewa, Volkan, Ela and I shared the apartment.  In theory, Jay was supposed to be with us as well, but he spent every night with some other girls (we didn't ask for details).  The apartment wasn't spectacular, but it did come with mice in the attic, which was nice.

We spent most of our meals around the harbor at one of the many outdoor restaurants, or at the beach.  With the fresh sea breeze blowing, the warm sunshine, and the delicious food and drink, it was easy to spend the time sitting and doing nothing.  It must be wonderful to live in a world where siestas are common.  But they probably have to practice, because eating and relaxing in the sunshine is really hard work!  Since there were about 30 friends that we knew also at the wedding (staying in different places), we would bump into everyone just walking around the harbor, meeting for drinks or meals.  Sometimes a meal would start with 3 or 4 people, and as people walked by, they'd join the table, and so on and so on, which led to a table of 15 people, sitting for hours, ordering second meals after getting hungry again.  We even got free bottles of limoncello and some artichoke drink from the restaurant for giving them so much business.  Actually a couple places gave free snacks, fruit or drinks, and it was great that everyone has a generous spirit.

Walking around the harbor

Family picture

After lunch, trying to figure out what everyone ordered

The wedding itself was beautiful, with the ceremony held just above the harbor.  I could immediately understand why Julia and Mark fell in love with the place.  The ceremony was officiated by an Italian, in English, translated into Russian. How many times have you heard of that?  Somebody gave me a flower to put in my suit, a gift from the couple for organizing the party at which they officially met a few years ago ("officially", since it's the first time they both actually remember meeting each other).  After the ceremony, it was prosecco and picture time (which is always a good time), then the party bus ride to the reception (which is also always a good time).  We broke into the vodka stash on the bus, and, slightly (or not so slightly) buzzed, and got to the venue to see one of the most beautiful wedding settings I've seen.  The place was on a hill, overlooking the beautiful countryside, including the typical countryside ancient Roman temple in the background.

View from the reception venue

The weather was perfect, the pool was tempting (however, no swimming allowed - which of course a few people ignored), and there was so much food that we didn't know what to do with it.  It started with appetizers of fish, mussels, prawns, oysters, salads, cous cous, and to my surprise, a tasty lung/spleen sandwich.  I was feeling brave and ate it very confidently, and it went down pretty well.  I was already pretty full, but then came risotto, pasta, fish, potatoes, prawns and lots of desserts.  Of course there was dancing, and lots of fun songs that guys in our WITC group enjoy.  Mark and Julia looked great, everyone had a great time (especially making a music video to Pharrell's "Happy"), and J's family treated us to a choreographed performance to a Backstreet Boys song (I was very jealous not to be in the performance).  I couldn't be happier for them. It says a lot that so many friends from Warsaw (maybe 25 of us) were more than happy to spend the weekend here with them...it was great to party for all.

Welcoming the new couple

Guys looking awesome

Volkan and me with Mark and Julia

The party didn't stop that night, as we spent the next day at a pool party at the beach.  We spent the day eating, drinking, swimming, taking jumping pictures and just celebrating our friends' new union.  It was so relaxing and fun to sit and have no worries in the world (except all of the broken wine glasses next to the pool...I'm not sure why they let us take the glasses next to the pool in the first place...that can only end badly).

"Day after" jumping pictures in the sea

And in the pool

One of my favorite discoveries was the amazing pasta alla norma.  It was especially great at "Il Patio" on the harbor, and had eggplant (which somehow I am liking more and more every time I eat it), potatoes, basil, and some really nice cheese, tossed with some funny squiggly noodle called busiata.  I guess busiata is the Sicilian name for fusilli, but somehow it seemed thicker and heartier than fusilli. I also loved that cous cous with fish or seafood is very popular there, served in a broth.

Busiata alla norma

Seafood cous cous and broth

Of course you can't go to Sicily without thinking of the Godfather movies.  People were humming the theme song everywhere, and I assumed every local was part of the Mafia (please make sure I'm not swimming with the fish after writing this).  I looked into how the Mafia started (online, not actually asking Mafia).  Sicily became part of Italy in the 19th century, which meant needing to follow new, sometimes annoying rules, but also with limited oversight from the mainland since they were not connected.  The Mafia came about as a way to govern separately (and in their own interests) from the Italian government, during a time they were adjusting to capitalism, but also as a way to keep order among everyone.  And of course it still exists to some extent, with powerful families running a lot of things.  Just spending a couple days there, you also can get a sense of why the Sicilians in New York have a reputation for being so loud, friendly, caring, chatty, family-oriented, and such great cooks.  Because we could see that all over Sicitly.

In the end, I could not find any pistachio ice cream as good as in La Civetta (and just to make sure I wasn't hallucinating the first time, I went back to the restaurant after Sicily to try it again...and it's still amazing).  Apparently the recipe comes from a popular ice cream shop in Sicily, but some people say that the milk in Poland is better, so the ice cream could be officially better in La Civetta because of that. If anyone wants to try it out sometime, just let me know and I'll bring a few lactaids pills.