Making Introductions

As we crossed the desert by train, passing barren outposts and watching sandstorms (and rainstorms) roll in and out, I welled with excitement, finally feeling for the first time like I was embarking on a true adventure.



As we neared Ulaan Baatar, and more fertile land, little ranches began to pop up.




Rolling into Ulaan Baatar, you would not think you are in a capital city. It looks more like a large desert outpost. There are two and a half skyscrapers...

... and the edge of the city along the railroad tracks is lined with fenced in gers.

Sandstorms are an almost hourly occurrence and we had to buy huge Jackie O. type sunglasses to act as goggles to protect our eyes.

This is our soviet-style apartment building, where our guesthouse, which is really just an old apartment with high ceilings and minimal furnishings, can be found.

Soviet-block apartment buildings, you say? Most people think of Mongolia as being Chinese, but there is also a strong Russian influence in the country. The soviet influence even presents itself in the use of the Cyrillic alphabet. (Yes, that says Supermarket.)

At our guesthouse, we were lucky enough to meet Cris, who is a German veterinary practicing in Mongolia for a few months.
I have used the word "we" several times, so let me take this opportunity to explain. On the train from Beijing, I was fortunate enough to meet two fellow American travelers from Kansas, Liz and Kerry. Here is Liz. You will see Kerry later because I couldn't get a good angle for a picture of her in the kitchen.
Cris, our veterinarian friend, shared with us several stories from her experience that really painted a picture of the Mongolian people and would prepare us for our further adventures on this journey.

She told us that the Mongolians are so concerned about your personal well-being that her hosts wouldn’t let her walk ten minutes in the city to a temple. After much debate and her insistence that she would be fine, she set out, only to discover that they had sent two little girls to follow her to make sure she didn’t get lost. (Naturally, this doesn’t apply to strangers who we hear will steal the shirt off your back at the night market, but that's another story.)

Cris also explained many of the customs to us. For example, Mongolians in the countryside always invite you into their ger for milk tea. They feed you and talk together before conducting any business. She even arrived for an emergency with an animal, but as they walked past the stricken sheep, they were expected to enter the ger and greet everyone for an hour before setting about working on the animal. I laughed and joked that I just hoped the doctor wouldn’t do that if I was sick or injured.

In addition to her wonderful stories, she also shared with us some dried curds she had made with one of the families.

What a wonderful and fortunate introduction to a new country.