I suppose that's what I have to start calling Michigan since I'll be living here the next three years. I made it back to the States with no problems, and even got a free ticket from United for letting them reroute me through Chicago. Always a bad idea to go to O'Hare--my plane out of there was deemed unsafe to fly so we were delayed quite some time--but hey I've got nothing to do that's urgent. And now that I'm a student again I can't turn down anything that's free.
So here I am, counting down the days until school starts. Stay tuned for pictures and some final thoughts on the trip.
Overall verdict: awesome.
Friday, August 17, 2007
Tuesday, August 14, 2007
Made In China
In less than 12 hours I will be on a plane back to the U. S. of A. I'm of course filled with the usual excited to go home, sad to end such an awesome trip emotions that everyone gets at this point while traveling. But before I start reflecting, I should finish the story with some tales from Beijing.
Beijing is not what I expected. It isn't crowded, dirty, smoggy, humid, or cheap. Ok, it is all of those things for sure, but since I set the mental bar so high before arriving, I've been very pleasantly surprised at how blue the skies are, how much shoulder room I've felt in the streets, and how clean most places are.
I've skipped almost all of the tourist stops, save of course Tienanmen and a very nice Pagoda park in the city. Having Val here makes me want to explore more markets and streets where her language skills are a huge asset as opposed to places where I can easily revisit on an English tour group one day.
And when I say we explored the markets, I mean we fully detailed all eight floors of clothing, silks, jackets and jewelry. I've never bargained more in my life, nor left with the strange feeling that I was still ripped off for agreeing to pay $2 for a silk scarf. Everything really is as the title of this post describes.
We also attempted leg waxing, since it would cost less here than buying the packets over the counter at home. An hour and a half later, I would call it more a leg gooing and tweezing than anything else. Perhaps it was a bad sign when the woman took the jar out of a brand new box and started reading the instruction manual?
Last but not least, we've had lots more good eats: squid on a stick, melon on a stick, corn on the cob, popsicles (I average about seven a day, though the red bean and green bean ones are my least favorite, mango so far is the best), noodle soup, other noodle dishes, peking duck (for being the priciest dish here, it's not that good), taro pearl milk tea, stir fried stuff, really spicy can't breathe stuff, dumplings, and red bean cakes.
The food on the streets is insanely cheap and so delicious you scoff at anyone for eating anything else. That I will miss. In fact, a lot of this city I will miss. But it just means I'll definitely be coming back.
United Airlines, taaake me hoooome, to the plaaaaace where I belooooooooong.
Beijing is not what I expected. It isn't crowded, dirty, smoggy, humid, or cheap. Ok, it is all of those things for sure, but since I set the mental bar so high before arriving, I've been very pleasantly surprised at how blue the skies are, how much shoulder room I've felt in the streets, and how clean most places are.
I've skipped almost all of the tourist stops, save of course Tienanmen and a very nice Pagoda park in the city. Having Val here makes me want to explore more markets and streets where her language skills are a huge asset as opposed to places where I can easily revisit on an English tour group one day.
And when I say we explored the markets, I mean we fully detailed all eight floors of clothing, silks, jackets and jewelry. I've never bargained more in my life, nor left with the strange feeling that I was still ripped off for agreeing to pay $2 for a silk scarf. Everything really is as the title of this post describes.
We also attempted leg waxing, since it would cost less here than buying the packets over the counter at home. An hour and a half later, I would call it more a leg gooing and tweezing than anything else. Perhaps it was a bad sign when the woman took the jar out of a brand new box and started reading the instruction manual?
Last but not least, we've had lots more good eats: squid on a stick, melon on a stick, corn on the cob, popsicles (I average about seven a day, though the red bean and green bean ones are my least favorite, mango so far is the best), noodle soup, other noodle dishes, peking duck (for being the priciest dish here, it's not that good), taro pearl milk tea, stir fried stuff, really spicy can't breathe stuff, dumplings, and red bean cakes.
The food on the streets is insanely cheap and so delicious you scoff at anyone for eating anything else. That I will miss. In fact, a lot of this city I will miss. But it just means I'll definitely be coming back.
United Airlines, taaake me hoooome, to the plaaaaace where I belooooooooong.
Saturday, August 11, 2007
Trans-Siberian Busway?
Ok technically we took the Trans-Mongolian Railway, but only as far as Erlian, the Chinese border town just outside Mongolia. There were no train tickets straight to Beijing for the month of August, at least according to the ticket office in Ulan Bataar, which is a separate story worth sharing at some point, so we settled for a sleeper bus. Picture a large tour bus, but instead of seats, it has three long rows (two aisles) of bunk beds each about half the size of a twin bed. I promise, it's not as bad as it sounds.
The positives: air conditioning, cleanish sheets, and no smelly bathroom on board.
The negatives: a "smoking section" (aka the driver and his friends), very loud karaoke television, and no bathroom on board.
Unfortunately for Frances, too much unpasteurized dairy consumption in Mongolia had left her insides pretty vengeful toward the outside world. I'll leave it at that.
Fortunately for Frances, I feel much better and China has been quite delicious. Already today I've had tofu soup thing, fried donut thing, mango popsicle, egg onion pancake thing, cabbage pancake thing, and it's not even dinner yet. Valerie can communicate which is a huge plus after dealing with unpronounceable Mongolian, and it's nice being able to just relax and enjoy the humidity and smog.
And you're right, the karaoke television was really a positive.
The positives: air conditioning, cleanish sheets, and no smelly bathroom on board.
The negatives: a "smoking section" (aka the driver and his friends), very loud karaoke television, and no bathroom on board.
Unfortunately for Frances, too much unpasteurized dairy consumption in Mongolia had left her insides pretty vengeful toward the outside world. I'll leave it at that.
Fortunately for Frances, I feel much better and China has been quite delicious. Already today I've had tofu soup thing, fried donut thing, mango popsicle, egg onion pancake thing, cabbage pancake thing, and it's not even dinner yet. Valerie can communicate which is a huge plus after dealing with unpronounceable Mongolian, and it's nice being able to just relax and enjoy the humidity and smog.
And you're right, the karaoke television was really a positive.
Thursday, August 9, 2007
Could it be? I think I like kids!
Yes it's true. I think I'm finally starting to get why people like hanging out with those slobbery, smelly, undersized creatures that are kinda like pets only you'll be arrested for trying to pawn them off to your neighbor. Either that or four days with no shower in a bumpy jeep through the dry heat of Mongolia has left me without all my mental faculties.
Our driver, Natsikturch (at least we think), convinced us to reroute our itinerary to stay at his place the first night instead of Ogyi Lake. Of course by convinced, I mean he talked to us a lot in Mongolian, pointed at the itinerary, then drove us to his home. And of course by home, I mean a ger (aka a yurt), in the middle of Mongolia. We stopped only briefly to pick up his two-year old son (so we think) named Tawasheroo (also so we think). Tawasheroo was not a fan of smiling and liked trying to imitate his father by banging on the steering wheel and playing with the gear shift. We were not off to a good start.
But a camel and a horse ride later, plus a walk through the plains to a setting sun, and my mood had warmed up considerably to Mongolia. I found Tawasharoo trying to climb on the back of one of the girls I was traveling with, and she was having none of it. Remembering how fun piggyback rides were when I was a child, I scooped him up and ran around until he giggled hysterically and was swinging from my arms like a monkey in the trees.
His slightly older cousin named Anurag, or close enough, politely declined her turn, but very eagerly accepted my offer to chase the family's herd of goats/sheep together instead. This involved a lot of skipping and baa-ing. Speaking of the herds, they love standing near the roads so that when we drive through one every five minutes, we're honking the horn as several dozen goats or sheep or horses or cows or yaks frantically scatter in front of us. It's quite amusing. Anurag and I chased some goats, sang to the one English song she had on her cell phone, then went back holding hands to the ger for dinner.
So clearly, it's not that I like kids all of a sudden, it's just that I miss being one. Or perhaps, as my roommate Jake once said, my ovaries are ova-reacting.
Our driver, Natsikturch (at least we think), convinced us to reroute our itinerary to stay at his place the first night instead of Ogyi Lake. Of course by convinced, I mean he talked to us a lot in Mongolian, pointed at the itinerary, then drove us to his home. And of course by home, I mean a ger (aka a yurt), in the middle of Mongolia. We stopped only briefly to pick up his two-year old son (so we think) named Tawasheroo (also so we think). Tawasheroo was not a fan of smiling and liked trying to imitate his father by banging on the steering wheel and playing with the gear shift. We were not off to a good start.
But a camel and a horse ride later, plus a walk through the plains to a setting sun, and my mood had warmed up considerably to Mongolia. I found Tawasharoo trying to climb on the back of one of the girls I was traveling with, and she was having none of it. Remembering how fun piggyback rides were when I was a child, I scooped him up and ran around until he giggled hysterically and was swinging from my arms like a monkey in the trees.
His slightly older cousin named Anurag, or close enough, politely declined her turn, but very eagerly accepted my offer to chase the family's herd of goats/sheep together instead. This involved a lot of skipping and baa-ing. Speaking of the herds, they love standing near the roads so that when we drive through one every five minutes, we're honking the horn as several dozen goats or sheep or horses or cows or yaks frantically scatter in front of us. It's quite amusing. Anurag and I chased some goats, sang to the one English song she had on her cell phone, then went back holding hands to the ger for dinner.
So clearly, it's not that I like kids all of a sudden, it's just that I miss being one. Or perhaps, as my roommate Jake once said, my ovaries are ova-reacting.
Sunday, August 5, 2007
Jennifer Lopez, Janet Jackson, Madonna, and...
Frances. That's right, apparently I'm America's next biggest hottie. At least according to the Mongolian police officer that decided to invade our kupe after we crossed the border out of Russia. After walking by the open door twice and glaring quite sternly at our open bottle of wine, he then morphed into the most social, non-english speaking Mongolian possible. It helped that I also knew the words to that ya ya ya coco jambo ya ya yeah song. And more importantly, we could both name all of the Backstreet Boys. I knew that information would be useful one day!
Talk about a welcome wagon. We battled with the train lady over hot water (she wanted money - it's free), not to mention the boxes of cigarettes that were stuffed into several of the other kupes. Then of course there was the random girl that we were told would be sitting in our cabin, but just for the border crossing portion of the trip. Standard apparently, especially the fact that it took 9 hours for all this to go down.
But still, I can boast about reaching a brand new country. By the end of this trip I'll have one for each year of my life, until of course my birthday later this month. Then I'll have to start planning a new adventure!
Ulan Bataar deserves a separate post, but it's time for bed. We're at ten days and counting...
Talk about a welcome wagon. We battled with the train lady over hot water (she wanted money - it's free), not to mention the boxes of cigarettes that were stuffed into several of the other kupes. Then of course there was the random girl that we were told would be sitting in our cabin, but just for the border crossing portion of the trip. Standard apparently, especially the fact that it took 9 hours for all this to go down.
But still, I can boast about reaching a brand new country. By the end of this trip I'll have one for each year of my life, until of course my birthday later this month. Then I'll have to start planning a new adventure!
Ulan Bataar deserves a separate post, but it's time for bed. We're at ten days and counting...
Friday, August 3, 2007
Siberia!
So begins the epilogue of Crime and Punishment, which I just finished on the 4-hour bus ride back to Irkutsk from Lake Baikal. Don't roll your eyes, it wouldn't be fair for me to have read anything but Dostoevsky on this trip.
We just spent the last three days at Olkhon Islands in the center of Lake Baikal. Go on and Google Earth it, I can assure you it's every bit as beautiful as it sounds. The day we arrived it was foggy and raining. I asked our driver if it was always this way, and he answered "tolka sevodnya" - only today. By driver I mean guy from the street we had convinced to take us up to the islands since all the real bus tickets were sold out. Also of note, almost all the cars here have right-side steering wheels. Yes, they also drive on the right side. No, it doesn't make sense.
The best part about Siberia is that no matter what you do, it sounds incredible. Going for a walk? Eh. Going for a walk in Siberia? Cool! Buying a beer? No big deal. Buying a bottle of pevo in Siberia? Awesome. Everything sounds amazing when you add "in Siberia" to the end. Just yesterday we went mountain biking from one side of the island to the other, were fed some raw fish by friendly russian swimmers, and lost all feeling in my palms from the bumpy ride. But it was unbelievable. How often can you say "I just went mountain biking...in Siberia."
And now, we're paying an arm and a leg for internet as we wait for our evening train to take us out of Russia and into Mongolia. Our seats are in kupe (second class) because they don't offer the cheaper 54-bed dorm-style platzkart option on trains to Mongolia. Unfortunate, since they cost twice as much as our other tickets. Fortunate, since we'll be only have to share the cabin with two french backpackers we met at the train station. We're quite excited at the prospect of a body-odor-free train. Excepting our own, natch.
In a word, Russia has been expensive. Allow me two more and I'd add beautiful and under-appreciated. Both by foreigners who don't visit and by locals who leave their trash everywhere they go. Perhaps I should add a disclaimer to a previous statement I made - littering is lame, even in Siberia.
Dasvidanya Rossiya, Ya uzhe skuchaya po-tebye.
We just spent the last three days at Olkhon Islands in the center of Lake Baikal. Go on and Google Earth it, I can assure you it's every bit as beautiful as it sounds. The day we arrived it was foggy and raining. I asked our driver if it was always this way, and he answered "tolka sevodnya" - only today. By driver I mean guy from the street we had convinced to take us up to the islands since all the real bus tickets were sold out. Also of note, almost all the cars here have right-side steering wheels. Yes, they also drive on the right side. No, it doesn't make sense.
The best part about Siberia is that no matter what you do, it sounds incredible. Going for a walk? Eh. Going for a walk in Siberia? Cool! Buying a beer? No big deal. Buying a bottle of pevo in Siberia? Awesome. Everything sounds amazing when you add "in Siberia" to the end. Just yesterday we went mountain biking from one side of the island to the other, were fed some raw fish by friendly russian swimmers, and lost all feeling in my palms from the bumpy ride. But it was unbelievable. How often can you say "I just went mountain biking...in Siberia."
And now, we're paying an arm and a leg for internet as we wait for our evening train to take us out of Russia and into Mongolia. Our seats are in kupe (second class) because they don't offer the cheaper 54-bed dorm-style platzkart option on trains to Mongolia. Unfortunate, since they cost twice as much as our other tickets. Fortunate, since we'll be only have to share the cabin with two french backpackers we met at the train station. We're quite excited at the prospect of a body-odor-free train. Excepting our own, natch.
In a word, Russia has been expensive. Allow me two more and I'd add beautiful and under-appreciated. Both by foreigners who don't visit and by locals who leave their trash everywhere they go. Perhaps I should add a disclaimer to a previous statement I made - littering is lame, even in Siberia.
Dasvidanya Rossiya, Ya uzhe skuchaya po-tebye.
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