so, it's 6.06pm, and i'm sitting for the last time in uncle idre's guesthouse computer. we fondly call him uncle idre, because the other time, he seemed a little (actually quite!!) hurt that we didn't go for his tours, as we had already settled our tours through ger-to-ger, a non-profit organisation. so to placate him, we call him uncle. hehehe. *don't make uncle angry hor, guai guai eat your vegetables hor...*
anyway, we're about to leave in an hour for china. we take a 8pm train to reach zamin ude at 745am, take the 8am bus to do the border crossing, and then from the border take a sleeper bus into beijing. so we leave on the 9th and arrive on the 11th. this saves us 40usd, which means more peking duck!!!!
one thing i miss about mongolia, is that i should have not sat on my lazy bum drinking animal tasting salty mongolian tea in the ger, but should have walked into the other ger and offered to help the mother make our meal. it would have been such a great experience, seeing how curd is made, rolling and cutting up the noodles. such a waste. i should have used my brain more. it's always like that, isn't it? if only all of us had a crystal ball.
tell me why tell me why do i go
until the end of the world that i know
why, by donna regina.
-luke
Monday, July 9, 2007
Saturday, July 7, 2007
7/7/07 after canoeing in terelj park
ahey, you look at the date you will also buy lottery. so nice a number, how can you not???
anyway, we just came back from a 2 day canoeing trip in terelj park. it's quite nice. you know, you get to become a tourist, sitting in the lap of luxury with fawning servants who hand you a crystal dish of cool basil lime sorbet when the sun gets too hot... i kid. it's not that extravagant, but it's nice going off canoeing and arriving at the next spot to see your tents all set up, and a dinner all ready for you.
plus, we got to eat sausages and bread!!!! and cheese! and coffee!!! and dried apricots!!! plus vegetables!!!
no more fish and cold bread, sibeh sian. (an adjective in singlish describing extreme frustration at having to perform an action over and over again, ie, very bored of the item/action/person)
but we also saw our friendly canned fish poking their tails at us gleefully. i took my revenge by eating them, except the tails.
the river was quite shallow, and not very fast, although quite a few times our companions ida, else and trina ( from norway, and who took turns paddling in a 2 man boat) capsized or had to run through a tree branch.
before we stopped for dinner on day 1, we got into a little adventure. tree(s?) are often washed into the river as a result of erosion, soil type, heavy rainfall and the work of the ugly beast, man. (this is all thanks to jared diamond, google him). we encountered a swift flowing region of the river, and i start to paddle as much as i can to get to the left of the tree. once i realise there's no hope, one word pops up like a neon red and yellow sign, chock full of mind numbing urgency.
BRACE....
BRACE....
BRACE....
we hit it head on.
and i look under me and mr chew's legs are sticking straight out, right beneath my seat. poor fella popped out of his seat and slid under me.
and the next one, when our guide leaves our canoe to help ida and else with their canoe, starts with k paddling and i steering the canoe. once again, God has a very strange sense of humour and we're left facing a similar situation.
this time, we need to evade a low lying tree, and then another tree straight after it. which means i, a complete novice, seated at the back of hte canoe, has to steer right, then left immediately to gain 50 points and survive the cruel game of Canoeing in Mongolia 2.
so we take it straight on, and i find myself going straight into the thick branches of a tree. mind you, these branches are just skimming the surface of the water.
according to the many eye witnesses, they said that i fed kinyan right into the fire.
according to me, i saw the tree branch, knew that i couldn't steer it, so i was just waiting for the branch to pass through us and the canoe.
according to the many eye witnesses, kinyan was paddling very furiously, while i was just slowly sliding to the safety of the bottom of the canoe.
according to me, i adroitly slid down in the nick of time as the tree branch came to a hairbreadth of us, and with split second precision and accuracy, used my right foot to push the branch well above the canoe.
either way, we survived.
uncle and auntie chew, kinyan is alive, well and kicking. he just had dinner with us, got back, washed up and changed out and is comfortably reading his electronic version of a terry pratchet book on his palm os, or something like that.
btw, about the fawning luxury blah blah of tourism. we thought we were quite fortunate with lunch dinner and everything taken care of, but at about the end leg of our trip, we saw a group of golden oldies (or greying?) at a long table, covered with a long white cloth next to the river, having lunch.
WAH LAU. (a singlish term to express general frustration. in short, a very big sigh)
-l
anyway, we just came back from a 2 day canoeing trip in terelj park. it's quite nice. you know, you get to become a tourist, sitting in the lap of luxury with fawning servants who hand you a crystal dish of cool basil lime sorbet when the sun gets too hot... i kid. it's not that extravagant, but it's nice going off canoeing and arriving at the next spot to see your tents all set up, and a dinner all ready for you.
plus, we got to eat sausages and bread!!!! and cheese! and coffee!!! and dried apricots!!! plus vegetables!!!
no more fish and cold bread, sibeh sian. (an adjective in singlish describing extreme frustration at having to perform an action over and over again, ie, very bored of the item/action/person)
but we also saw our friendly canned fish poking their tails at us gleefully. i took my revenge by eating them, except the tails.
the river was quite shallow, and not very fast, although quite a few times our companions ida, else and trina ( from norway, and who took turns paddling in a 2 man boat) capsized or had to run through a tree branch.
before we stopped for dinner on day 1, we got into a little adventure. tree(s?) are often washed into the river as a result of erosion, soil type, heavy rainfall and the work of the ugly beast, man. (this is all thanks to jared diamond, google him). we encountered a swift flowing region of the river, and i start to paddle as much as i can to get to the left of the tree. once i realise there's no hope, one word pops up like a neon red and yellow sign, chock full of mind numbing urgency.
BRACE....
BRACE....
BRACE....
we hit it head on.
and i look under me and mr chew's legs are sticking straight out, right beneath my seat. poor fella popped out of his seat and slid under me.
and the next one, when our guide leaves our canoe to help ida and else with their canoe, starts with k paddling and i steering the canoe. once again, God has a very strange sense of humour and we're left facing a similar situation.
this time, we need to evade a low lying tree, and then another tree straight after it. which means i, a complete novice, seated at the back of hte canoe, has to steer right, then left immediately to gain 50 points and survive the cruel game of Canoeing in Mongolia 2.
so we take it straight on, and i find myself going straight into the thick branches of a tree. mind you, these branches are just skimming the surface of the water.
according to the many eye witnesses, they said that i fed kinyan right into the fire.
according to me, i saw the tree branch, knew that i couldn't steer it, so i was just waiting for the branch to pass through us and the canoe.
according to the many eye witnesses, kinyan was paddling very furiously, while i was just slowly sliding to the safety of the bottom of the canoe.
according to me, i adroitly slid down in the nick of time as the tree branch came to a hairbreadth of us, and with split second precision and accuracy, used my right foot to push the branch well above the canoe.
either way, we survived.
uncle and auntie chew, kinyan is alive, well and kicking. he just had dinner with us, got back, washed up and changed out and is comfortably reading his electronic version of a terry pratchet book on his palm os, or something like that.
btw, about the fawning luxury blah blah of tourism. we thought we were quite fortunate with lunch dinner and everything taken care of, but at about the end leg of our trip, we saw a group of golden oldies (or greying?) at a long table, covered with a long white cloth next to the river, having lunch.
WAH LAU. (a singlish term to express general frustration. in short, a very big sigh)
-l
Thursday, July 5, 2007
Chinggis Khan always say....
The train steamed into Ulan Bataar in the morn. Set against dark hills where pregnant storm clouds loomed ominously on the hilltops, ready to roll down into the city any moment. Stacks and chimneys spouted gray serpents of smoke that mingled with the dark clouds and a layer of sand covered the city. It seemed almost like a scene out of a Dickensian novel. The sun, obscured by this sinister mix peeked through the gaps of clear sky, shining distinct rays into parts of the city, as if hope lay only behind those clouds. The landscape, dotted by Gers, exposed pipes, trash and industrial remnants of the Soviet era wasn't exactly the most pleasant of sights from the train, but I was glad to be here, glad to be out of Russia. The last month in Russia had taken its toll on our wallets and on our spirits and we were dying for a change.
I shan't go into detail about our little desert trip, Mr Chew has already done that. I very much appreciated the trip despite the discomforts in the desert. The fact that we were essentially thrown to the mercy of the nomad family with no guide or support from the tour agency was excellent as we really got to experience life with the nomads and become involved with their family for a day without a minivan taking us around, without proper toilets, without a translator, without cold water to drink. I noticed the other tourist camps around where we stayed with gers all lined up in neat rows and very modern looking buildings - I was glad I wasn't there. Perhaps the crowning moment was when we headed off after seeing the sand dunes. We had time so our guide brought us to the lake we were at the 1st day. Along the way, we met up with Panchalan, the herder we stayed with the day before, then it was off to the river bank for vodka together with other herders who came to join us. This was followed by some Mongolian wrestling where we faired miserably. It was the spontaneity which I found most appealing, the fact that this probably wouldn't have happened if we had gone with an organized tour together with a whole bunch of other tourist. So if you're in Mongolia the next time, look up Ger-to-Ger.
-Andrew
I shan't go into detail about our little desert trip, Mr Chew has already done that. I very much appreciated the trip despite the discomforts in the desert. The fact that we were essentially thrown to the mercy of the nomad family with no guide or support from the tour agency was excellent as we really got to experience life with the nomads and become involved with their family for a day without a minivan taking us around, without proper toilets, without a translator, without cold water to drink. I noticed the other tourist camps around where we stayed with gers all lined up in neat rows and very modern looking buildings - I was glad I wasn't there. Perhaps the crowning moment was when we headed off after seeing the sand dunes. We had time so our guide brought us to the lake we were at the 1st day. Along the way, we met up with Panchalan, the herder we stayed with the day before, then it was off to the river bank for vodka together with other herders who came to join us. This was followed by some Mongolian wrestling where we faired miserably. It was the spontaneity which I found most appealing, the fact that this probably wouldn't have happened if we had gone with an organized tour together with a whole bunch of other tourist. So if you're in Mongolia the next time, look up Ger-to-Ger.
-Andrew
Tuesday, July 3, 2007
Ger-To-Ger
We arrived in Ulaan Batoor, Mongolia after a long but peaceful train ride, the first time we ever (accidentally) travelled 2nd class and had almost a whole compartment to ourselves. The moment the got off the train, we saw a throng of people holding up cards for their guest house. We spotted the one that we had made our reservations at : Idres Guesthouse. We actually arrived at UB several days ahead of schedule, but apparently the guesthouses come out every morning to get customers. We were promptly escorted to a waiting taxi and were whisked to Idre's Guesthouse. We settled in and walked around Ulaan Baator a little , exploring and finding out about tours. More about this in another post.
The next day, we departed Idres Guesthouse and began our long car trip out to our first 3 day "Ger-to-Ger" outing. Ger To Ger is an organization that runs homestay style tours in cooperation with Mongolian herders. They try to practise culturally sensitive tourism and have a cultural orientation session for all their customers. The programs that they run are designed to provide the host herders with a supplemental income. The idea is for tourists to be able to both experience the beauty of the countryside as well as the culture and lifestyle of the nomadic herders of the Mongolian steppes.
A ger is a circular tent-like structure, with a hole at the centre for ventilation and sunlight. Layered and carefully constructed, the gers provide good insulation and can withstand strong winds. The ger's door always faces south and within, altars, beds, family items and furniture are placed according to tradition and positions of honor. For example, the 12 o'clock position is where the altar is placed. Guests, elders, males and females are seated in according to positions of honor and there are taboos against leaning on the support columns and pointing your feet at the door or the altar. The ger can be quickly collapsed and set up and is particularly suited for the nomadic lifestyle of the Mongolian nomads.
We had initially planned and booked a 8 day trek up to the Blue Lake. However, we arrived early in Ulan Baator after fleeing Russia, and we were unable to bring our initial plan to an earlier date, so we decided to take 2 shorter programs instead. The first one is a three day two night program to the region of Elsen Tasarhai, in the centre of Mongolia, southwest of Ulan Baator.
We piled into a hired private car and headed out of the city. The road was good at first but we soon encountered large sections of road that were apparently under repair. Our driver was diligently avoiding large potholes along the road. Sometimes we detoured off the road altogether. About three quarters into the journey, the driver had to get out in the middle of the barren landscape to change a flat tire. It was rather hot.
We completed the ~250km journey in about 6 or 7 hours and bundled ourselves out of the car at our first stop. We had arrived at the first ger, the residence of Mr. Idersogt. We sat down and tried to avoid all the cultural taboos that we had been told about during the orientation at the Ger-To-Ger office, but things went quite well. We were served bootsog, or Mongolia cookies, which were made from milk via various fermentation processes. The result was a variety of cookies with various levels of sourness. We quickly found out which cookie shape corresponded to the least sour taste and strategically relived the plate of those particular ones. We were also refreshed with hot Mongolian milk tea. This tea is a weak tea with milk and salt, forming a salty drink that helps keep the body hydrated. I certainly didn't pee for a while. Soon, we were served lunch : potatoes with salted rice, along with koumiss and delicious fresh yogurt (with sugar). Our search for authentic Mongolian food was over - this was the real deal.
After lunch, we watched our host prepare the yak cart and hitched up the lucky animal. We clambered aboard and headed west towards the dramatically named Swan Lake. The name was given because there are sometimes swans there. Cool. We travelled across the dry terrain, sparsely covered with closely-cropped grass. There were flocks of sheep, goats, horses, and cows over the sloped steppe, doing their best to crop the grass even closer. They seemed to be doing a good job of it too, judging by the quantity of brown processed grass lying everywhere.
We spent some time at the lake playing with the large numbers of frogs and tadpoles and just resting at the waterside. Then, we jumped back onto the cart and we were off. Back at the ger, Mr. Idersogt motioned for us to jump on his motorcycle. He ferried us to the next ger in two trips, somehow managing to transport three backpacks and Andrew on his bike. We bade his farewell even as we started to get to know our new host and his family. As dictated by traditional hospitality, we were once again served tea and mongolian cookies. One of the family was a 5 year old boy who was very playful and soon warmed up to us. We joined him outside for some football. Playing outside on the Mongolian steppe in the late sunset was quite amazing. I watched the herders herd the animals into the pens for the night and did my part by waving menacingly at sheep that were thinking of bolting from the main herd. After that was done, we were served dinner. There was more Mongolian fare with rice and stir-fried mutton. Over dinner,we had some awkward social time with the family due to the lack of a common language as well as poor phrasebooks, but we managed to survive until it was time for bed.
The next morning, we were served breakfast. This included curd with cream that was served with sugar. Our host's sons then took us out and set us on two camels and a horse and we set out at a slow walk. We were headed out to a rock formation that had been made into a worship site. But first, I had to learn how to stop bouncing up and down on the camel! Ouch. It took me several experimental movements and quite some time before I managed to settle down to a less painful ride.
And then we sped up. The beat completely changed and I was submitted to more jolts before I managed to match my movements with the camel. Finally, after almost 2 hours of this, we arrived at the rock formation. We took our time and climbed around the rocks and got a good eyeful of the landscape. We rested and an hour later, we set off again. We moved quicker this time, and by the time we got back, I was sore all over. We had lunch and had some time to sit around the ger and rest before the camels were once again trotted out and we headed out to the third ger.
By the time we reached the third ger, I was completely exhausted and aching all over. We were also getting tired of the social awkwardness that we had been going through at every ger due go the presence of the language barrier. Gratefully, we were given a lot of personal time at ghe last ger compared to the previous two (where we were stared at for almost all the time). The food that was served to us was more familiar and less dairy based. So, left to our own devices, we managed to get to sleep early.
After breakfast the next morning, we all got on horses and headed out to see the nearby sand dunes. The horses were Mongolian horses and are shorter than normal. It was rather different from riding the camel and we had to relearn how to move our bodies. We got to the sand dunes after about 45 minutes of slow riding and spent an hour climbing around the dunes and watching the sands move in the wind. After that we headed back over to the Swan Lake and met a few herders there including our guide the previous day. We had some fun drinking vodka and trying our hand at the art of Mongolian wrestling. Horse riding + wrestling = ouch.
We headed back to our ger and this time we urged our horses into a gallop and we raced back. The feeling of the wind rushing past as the hooves pounded the ground flying by was amazing. We flew up the hill back to the ger with ease. That is, until I got off the horse. Ouch again. Our driver pulled up to the ger just as we rode in. We sat down to a quick lunch of delicious soup (cabbage, meat, yum yum) before we set out on another tiring 6 hour drive back to Ulaan Baator.
The Ger to Ger experience was unexpected but very enjoyable. The time that I spent there observing and participating in the lives of the nomads was interesting and enlightening. It was quite tiring and difficult at times, but I definately do not regret our foray into the life of the Mongolian nomad. However, I must say that I was glad to return to the comforts of our hostel in Ulaan Baator.
-ky
The next day, we departed Idres Guesthouse and began our long car trip out to our first 3 day "Ger-to-Ger" outing. Ger To Ger is an organization that runs homestay style tours in cooperation with Mongolian herders. They try to practise culturally sensitive tourism and have a cultural orientation session for all their customers. The programs that they run are designed to provide the host herders with a supplemental income. The idea is for tourists to be able to both experience the beauty of the countryside as well as the culture and lifestyle of the nomadic herders of the Mongolian steppes.
A ger is a circular tent-like structure, with a hole at the centre for ventilation and sunlight. Layered and carefully constructed, the gers provide good insulation and can withstand strong winds. The ger's door always faces south and within, altars, beds, family items and furniture are placed according to tradition and positions of honor. For example, the 12 o'clock position is where the altar is placed. Guests, elders, males and females are seated in according to positions of honor and there are taboos against leaning on the support columns and pointing your feet at the door or the altar. The ger can be quickly collapsed and set up and is particularly suited for the nomadic lifestyle of the Mongolian nomads.
We had initially planned and booked a 8 day trek up to the Blue Lake. However, we arrived early in Ulan Baator after fleeing Russia, and we were unable to bring our initial plan to an earlier date, so we decided to take 2 shorter programs instead. The first one is a three day two night program to the region of Elsen Tasarhai, in the centre of Mongolia, southwest of Ulan Baator.
We piled into a hired private car and headed out of the city. The road was good at first but we soon encountered large sections of road that were apparently under repair. Our driver was diligently avoiding large potholes along the road. Sometimes we detoured off the road altogether. About three quarters into the journey, the driver had to get out in the middle of the barren landscape to change a flat tire. It was rather hot.
We completed the ~250km journey in about 6 or 7 hours and bundled ourselves out of the car at our first stop. We had arrived at the first ger, the residence of Mr. Idersogt. We sat down and tried to avoid all the cultural taboos that we had been told about during the orientation at the Ger-To-Ger office, but things went quite well. We were served bootsog, or Mongolia cookies, which were made from milk via various fermentation processes. The result was a variety of cookies with various levels of sourness. We quickly found out which cookie shape corresponded to the least sour taste and strategically relived the plate of those particular ones. We were also refreshed with hot Mongolian milk tea. This tea is a weak tea with milk and salt, forming a salty drink that helps keep the body hydrated. I certainly didn't pee for a while. Soon, we were served lunch : potatoes with salted rice, along with koumiss and delicious fresh yogurt (with sugar). Our search for authentic Mongolian food was over - this was the real deal.
After lunch, we watched our host prepare the yak cart and hitched up the lucky animal. We clambered aboard and headed west towards the dramatically named Swan Lake. The name was given because there are sometimes swans there. Cool. We travelled across the dry terrain, sparsely covered with closely-cropped grass. There were flocks of sheep, goats, horses, and cows over the sloped steppe, doing their best to crop the grass even closer. They seemed to be doing a good job of it too, judging by the quantity of brown processed grass lying everywhere.
We spent some time at the lake playing with the large numbers of frogs and tadpoles and just resting at the waterside. Then, we jumped back onto the cart and we were off. Back at the ger, Mr. Idersogt motioned for us to jump on his motorcycle. He ferried us to the next ger in two trips, somehow managing to transport three backpacks and Andrew on his bike. We bade his farewell even as we started to get to know our new host and his family. As dictated by traditional hospitality, we were once again served tea and mongolian cookies. One of the family was a 5 year old boy who was very playful and soon warmed up to us. We joined him outside for some football. Playing outside on the Mongolian steppe in the late sunset was quite amazing. I watched the herders herd the animals into the pens for the night and did my part by waving menacingly at sheep that were thinking of bolting from the main herd. After that was done, we were served dinner. There was more Mongolian fare with rice and stir-fried mutton. Over dinner,we had some awkward social time with the family due to the lack of a common language as well as poor phrasebooks, but we managed to survive until it was time for bed.
The next morning, we were served breakfast. This included curd with cream that was served with sugar. Our host's sons then took us out and set us on two camels and a horse and we set out at a slow walk. We were headed out to a rock formation that had been made into a worship site. But first, I had to learn how to stop bouncing up and down on the camel! Ouch. It took me several experimental movements and quite some time before I managed to settle down to a less painful ride.
And then we sped up. The beat completely changed and I was submitted to more jolts before I managed to match my movements with the camel. Finally, after almost 2 hours of this, we arrived at the rock formation. We took our time and climbed around the rocks and got a good eyeful of the landscape. We rested and an hour later, we set off again. We moved quicker this time, and by the time we got back, I was sore all over. We had lunch and had some time to sit around the ger and rest before the camels were once again trotted out and we headed out to the third ger.
By the time we reached the third ger, I was completely exhausted and aching all over. We were also getting tired of the social awkwardness that we had been going through at every ger due go the presence of the language barrier. Gratefully, we were given a lot of personal time at ghe last ger compared to the previous two (where we were stared at for almost all the time). The food that was served to us was more familiar and less dairy based. So, left to our own devices, we managed to get to sleep early.
After breakfast the next morning, we all got on horses and headed out to see the nearby sand dunes. The horses were Mongolian horses and are shorter than normal. It was rather different from riding the camel and we had to relearn how to move our bodies. We got to the sand dunes after about 45 minutes of slow riding and spent an hour climbing around the dunes and watching the sands move in the wind. After that we headed back over to the Swan Lake and met a few herders there including our guide the previous day. We had some fun drinking vodka and trying our hand at the art of Mongolian wrestling. Horse riding + wrestling = ouch.
We headed back to our ger and this time we urged our horses into a gallop and we raced back. The feeling of the wind rushing past as the hooves pounded the ground flying by was amazing. We flew up the hill back to the ger with ease. That is, until I got off the horse. Ouch again. Our driver pulled up to the ger just as we rode in. We sat down to a quick lunch of delicious soup (cabbage, meat, yum yum) before we set out on another tiring 6 hour drive back to Ulaan Baator.
The Ger to Ger experience was unexpected but very enjoyable. The time that I spent there observing and participating in the lives of the nomads was interesting and enlightening. It was quite tiring and difficult at times, but I definately do not regret our foray into the life of the Mongolian nomad. However, I must say that I was glad to return to the comforts of our hostel in Ulaan Baator.
-ky
Sunday, July 1, 2007
ulan bator 2/7/07 part 2
after the 3 day trip, i'm glad not to be out there again.
once i'm in an internet cafe, plugging into datempo.com or listening to thievery corporation puts me back into my comfort zone.
i guess i'm still a city boy, still very much in need of creature comforts.
so much for field camp eh.
-l
once i'm in an internet cafe, plugging into datempo.com or listening to thievery corporation puts me back into my comfort zone.
i guess i'm still a city boy, still very much in need of creature comforts.
so much for field camp eh.
-l
ulan bator 2/7/07
at 9+am today:
while waiting for the good news (hopefully!!) that we'll get our full refund for the 2nd trip, i am stoically sitting in a small coffeeshop having bfast and watching over our bags while the other 2 attempt to wrestle with the BIG BOSS LEVEL 30.
so let me tell you about the thing on my plate.
buuz is a mongolian dumpling, with a thick starchy skin and meat inside. it's very much like a xiaolongbao, but a little more, um richer. (just short of calling it less delicate eh?)
a whitish oily skin of starch hugs the filling of mutton from the bottom and ends at the top with a tapered twist. bite into it, and you might wince from the hot steam and the thick musty smell (aroma perhaps?) of mutt-on. not only is it just meat, but one finds a liquid oozing out from the dumpling. is it a rich stock of nutritious juice?
unfortunately, it's oil.
which is actually pretty sick, when you actually notice it's 2 drops of juice in a large puddle of oil. and then you look at the filling and you realise you've got a generous amount of whitish bouncy fat.
anyhow, spending 1 plus hour waiting for the good news has a certain effect on me.
1) i milk my drink and food for all it's worth
2) i doodle and draw on a receipt of stuff bought in ulan ude. i've drawn 9 plus characters, mostly imaginary and looking quite bad. also, i've drawn a line connecting all of a particular cyrillic character, thereby creating a landscape suitable for the game "Worms"
3) i observe people eating the buuz.
some effect a small puncture wound in the luxurious dumpling, and then continue to suck it's life force dry before consuming it in large greedy bites. i could almost hear the pig-like snorting as they devoured the dumplings.others bite into it thoughtfully, but finally give way to their animalistic tendencies.
4) i start writing out my speculation about what's going on.
0850 - a&k leave the cafe
0910 - they should be talking to the boss now
0930 - they're still negotiating with the buffoon
0945 - ok i think we're going to have to go for the 2nd trip. i doubt we got the refund.
0950 - draw, luke. just trace the lines on the napkin. drown your worry in repetitive action.
1000 - ok they should be done with renting the tent. they should be here any minute
1005 - where are there??? bet those guys are pulling my leg
1015 - kinyan shows up. i expect andrew to follow, but the boss isn't even there yet.
1030 - andrew shows up. we are getting our money back.
1031 - the sun seems to be shining brightly
1032 - i order the last cup of salty mongolian national tea that i will drink during this trip to celebrate.
-l
while waiting for the good news (hopefully!!) that we'll get our full refund for the 2nd trip, i am stoically sitting in a small coffeeshop having bfast and watching over our bags while the other 2 attempt to wrestle with the BIG BOSS LEVEL 30.
so let me tell you about the thing on my plate.
buuz is a mongolian dumpling, with a thick starchy skin and meat inside. it's very much like a xiaolongbao, but a little more, um richer. (just short of calling it less delicate eh?)
a whitish oily skin of starch hugs the filling of mutton from the bottom and ends at the top with a tapered twist. bite into it, and you might wince from the hot steam and the thick musty smell (aroma perhaps?) of mutt-on. not only is it just meat, but one finds a liquid oozing out from the dumpling. is it a rich stock of nutritious juice?
unfortunately, it's oil.
which is actually pretty sick, when you actually notice it's 2 drops of juice in a large puddle of oil. and then you look at the filling and you realise you've got a generous amount of whitish bouncy fat.
anyhow, spending 1 plus hour waiting for the good news has a certain effect on me.
1) i milk my drink and food for all it's worth
2) i doodle and draw on a receipt of stuff bought in ulan ude. i've drawn 9 plus characters, mostly imaginary and looking quite bad. also, i've drawn a line connecting all of a particular cyrillic character, thereby creating a landscape suitable for the game "Worms"
3) i observe people eating the buuz.
some effect a small puncture wound in the luxurious dumpling, and then continue to suck it's life force dry before consuming it in large greedy bites. i could almost hear the pig-like snorting as they devoured the dumplings.others bite into it thoughtfully, but finally give way to their animalistic tendencies.
4) i start writing out my speculation about what's going on.
0850 - a&k leave the cafe
0910 - they should be talking to the boss now
0930 - they're still negotiating with the buffoon
0945 - ok i think we're going to have to go for the 2nd trip. i doubt we got the refund.
0950 - draw, luke. just trace the lines on the napkin. drown your worry in repetitive action.
1000 - ok they should be done with renting the tent. they should be here any minute
1005 - where are there??? bet those guys are pulling my leg
1015 - kinyan shows up. i expect andrew to follow, but the boss isn't even there yet.
1030 - andrew shows up. we are getting our money back.
1031 - the sun seems to be shining brightly
1032 - i order the last cup of salty mongolian national tea that i will drink during this trip to celebrate.
-l
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