Ichthyotherapy, or the one where fish eat my feet

Since I'd never been to Thailand before, I decided to spend a few extra days in Bangkok after the conference finished up.

I've been pretty lazy the last few days, spending a good amount of them sitting by the pool reading in between stuffing my face with all the foods I can't find in Beijing, but by evening, I'm ready for an adventure.

When I spotted a fish tank in the front of a nearby spa, I knew what had to be done. Some of my Korean friends have raved about these fish that eat off all your dead skin (I should add a gross disclaimer right about now). The thought of fish nibbling away at my feet freaks me out, but I've always been (disturbingly) fascinated by the prospect of such an elegant exfoliating solution.

So my friend Nate and I decided to take the "plunge" last night. For a paltry $4, we were able to stick our feet in this tank for 15 minutes. They have a 30 minute option, but I didn't think I could handle it.

I'll be straight up. That was possibly the longest 15 minutes of my life. There's nothing particularly painful about it all, but it's just kind of creepy and uncomfortable. The worst is when the fish go for between the toes, or nibble at the cuticle.

But don't get me wrong, I don't regret it. Especially now that my feet are silky smooth. Kind of. Actually I probably need hours more treatment for the little guys to eat away at all the calluses I've built up over the years.

Let me make this educational for you, since that's how I was raised.

I did a little bit of wiki-research to look up the name of the fish. Apparently they're called Doctor Fish. The scientific name is Garra Rufa, and in "non-medical contexts" (sounds ominous) the fish is called the reddish log sucker (even more ominous).

Apparently the 'treatment,' sometimes known as ichthyotherapy, is banned in several U.S. states because cosmetology regulations require "tools" to be discarded after use, but it's too expensive to throw away the fish after one use.

I try not to think about the sanitation of it all, though. Kind of creepy to think that some fish was just eating someone else's skin and now gets to eat yours...

Tune in next week when I kick things up a notch and try leeching and medieval bloodletting. Or maybe I'll go all the way and go for a shark massage.

The Beans in the Plastic Bubble

I've been saving this post for a few weeks, slowly figuring out in my head what to write. It's that awesome, so I hope I can do it justice.

Basically, about a month ago, M and I were dorking around on Facebook when she spotted some strange video on one of our Chinese friend's wall. She had filmed someone inside of a large plastic bubble rolling around on top of a large kiddie pool. Using her razor-sharp detective skills, M realized where the pool was: the U Center mall right in Wudaokou. We both looked at each other and yelled out, "We have to try this!" For us, it was just another one of those China experiences that you accumulate.

I was really worried that the event would close up shop, so I kept going by the U Center to find out when I could seal myself into one of these floating hamster balls. The security guards and cleaning ladies told me that it was only open from 4-7. Why someone would take the time to blow up a giant kiddie pool but only have it open three hours a day is beyond me...

So a couple Fridays ago, I had the day off, and I told myself: "The one thing I have to do today in order to call my day a success is get in that plastic bubble." I waited around all morning and afternoon, until around four, my friend Jeremy and I biked over to the U Center (stopping by Mcdonalds on the way to have a couple chicken wings and a coke). We could see the event organizers getting set-up, but they hadn't gotten started yet. We ran up to get in line, but they told us they were still waiting for some power and wouldn't start until 4:30. At which point, I made one of the more stupid decisions of my adult life. Right in front of the U Center, there was a little shack and patio with beer on tap, so Jeremy and I decided to have a beer while we waited for the bubbles to open. It ended up being a really crappy beer that didn't sit well, especially since I chugged it in anticipation of climbing in that crazy ball. Finally, a little after 5, they had all the extension cords they needed to pump up these balls and get started. By this time, I was experiencing a weird mixture of hype and disappointment. Weird, I know, I'm not really sure how it happens.

I climbed in first, and sat roasting in this plastic ball while 5 Chinese men tried to figure out how to pump it and then zip it really quickly before it deflated some. I'm pretty sure it took a good 10-15 minutes for them to figure it out. Right around then, M ran up and snapped a picture of me pretending to be an American (err Chinese?) Gladiator.

Finally, the ball was pumped and zipped, and they pushed me on my merry way. I wandered away to get my bearings while Jeremy was zipped into his ball. A crowd of Chinese people had gathered to watch and document the craziness. A number of them began picking up the floating plastic fruit that was bobbing in the pool and flinging them at my bubble, so as I walked around the pool, I kept hearing these echoing Zinging noises as lemons and pears ricocheted off my plastic force-field.

The water wasn't actually that deep, so my feet would kind of touch the ground, which struck me as a little dangerous, since if I fell on my head, it would pretty much just smack the concrete, slightly protected by a couple layers of plastic. But it wouldn't be a Chinese Bubble Party without a little bit of head-trauma risk, now would it? I got up the courage to try some acrobatics, and promptly ate it:

Once Jeremy was ready, I attacked him. Apparently, bubble dueling is a really interesting sport. I floated my way over to his bubble, put my hands against the wall of mine and then pushed them down really hard, making both our bubbles spin. I knocked him over a few times since he hadn't quite figured out how to keep his balance, but then he quickly learned and knocked me over quite a bit.


Eventually, M got suited up in her bubble, and the three of us spent a few minutes attacking each other.

After a particularly strenuous burst of energy, I was knocked over and found myself lying at the bottom of the bubble gasping for air. Whether it was the heat, the exertion, or the fact that I'd probably converted most of the available oxygen in my bubble into carbon-dioxide, I could only gasp little shallow breaths of air. Dizzy and disoriented, I fumbled my way over to the corner and the security guards unzipped the bubble and let me out. I stumbled around on dry land for a couple minutes while M and Jeremy finished up. The whole time, that stupid line from the Matrix kept running through my head: "He's gonna pop!" (Freakin' Cypher).

Here's what I've been trying to figure out how to write. How can I describe to you how utterly foreign and disorienting being in that ball was? I was simultaenously experiencing vertigo, seasickness, asphyxiation, dizziness, heat stroke, over-exertion, dehydration, and mild tipsiness. It was a pretty warm summer day, so the inside of the ball was really hot (and echo-y), and since the ball was always moving, we were basically constantly running in order to stay up. So I came out of the ball really really nauseous. I walked around for a bit, but was too dizzy to walk straight, so I ended up sitting down to try and cool off. M and J were out of their bubbles and came over to see how I was doing. I think because I'd been in their the longest, I was the most oxygen deprived out of the three of us. I started to feel better, so we headed over to the grocery store to pick up some stuff for dinner, but every few minutes I'd get hit with another wave of nausea and have to sit down for a bit. M ended up doing all the shopping while I waited for her outside. On the way out, I felt really sick again, so I decided I'd just go to the bathroom and vomit so I didn't have to worry about it. I went into the bathroom and puked a little bit, while the cleaning dude watched in dismay. It wasn't that much, but I felt tons better.

Anyway, later when I had to tell my friends the story, they asked me if I'd do it again. And the answer is a resounding "Yes!" Although next time without the beer, or chicken wings, or coke.

Mongolia : Day 6

It's hard to follow up such an exciting post. Especially such a well written one. And especially with the details of another 30 hour train ride.

I do want to tell the Marmot story first, though. On our way to Mongolia, Justin intoned sober warning to us: Marmots in Mongolia carry the bubonic plague. Apparently, these strange little creatures are out scavenging before winter sets in and carry a disease we only knew from the history books. Every so often we would remember Justin's warning and wonder out loud, "What the heck is a marmot anyway?" Our only clue was Justin's Marmot jacket. Which wasn't really much of a clue at all. Eventually, we settled on either a bird or a rodent.

On our way through the Mongolian countryside, Justin decided to slip some questions about Marmots into his friendly chatter with Tushik, our driver. "Tushik, have you ever seen a Marmot?" He grinned, "hmm...Yes, Marmot, I like." Tushik tells us that he likes to eat Marmots. Apparently, he hunts them, although they're hard to find in late autumn. Then, he goes into detail on how to skin a marmot, place hot stones inside of it, and grill it over a fire. Apparently, that's the best way to enjoy a Mongolian marmot.**Justin asks Tushik, "So what does marmot taste like?" To which Tushik wryly grins and politely retorts, "Marmot... tastes like marmot."**(Justin had to remind me about this, hehe). We try to ask whether the marmots have the bubonic plague, but all we really learn is that it's best not to eat sick marmots. hmmm...Justin decides to change the subject, so he asks Tushik, "Well, what's your favorite meat?" He grinned, "Marmot. Do you want to try?" Backpedaling quickly, Justin politely declines. The three of us make eye contact while thinking exactly the same thing: "If he thinks we want to try Marmots, he'll convince the family we're staying at to cook Marmots as a gesture of Mongolian hospitality..." Images of me rolling on the Mongolian plains, slowly and painfully becoming a zombie because of the bubonic plague, flash through my mind.

Later, when we climbed up to the Buddhist temple, we noticed a strange brass carving of a rodent serving as the handle of the entrance door:

From Beijing Dou

"Could this in fact be the dreaded mythical Marmot, the very one that struck such petrifying fear into our hearts?", we mused.

When we arrived back in Beijing, M looked up the wikipedia entry for Marmots. Apparently they're just oversize squirrels. Cute ones at that:

To which Justin replied, "They are cuter than I expected… I can’t eat that."

I was sorely disappointed, since I was expecting more of a Rodent of Unusual Size:


But consider yourself warned; next time you're wandering around the Mongolian plains shortly before winter, stay away from any cute curious rodents that want to play. They'll turn you into a zombie.

Ok, so enough about Marmots. (Although I am curious why a rugged outdoor clothing company chose Marmots for their moniker. You don't see me wearing a "Prairie Dog" jacket.)

Day 6:

The next morning when we rolled out of bed at the crack of dawn, we were extremely stiff and sore. After muttering and grumbling about horses for a few minutes, we managed to get our stuff together and head out the door. It was lightly snowing outside, and still mostly dark. We hopped in a cab and made it to the train station with time to kill. We had blown all our money on Indian and Mexican food the night before, leaving us with only 300 tugrug (30 cents). Justin wandered up to a few of the counters trying to use his remaining money to buy sour gummies, but to no avail. Finally, just before the train left, he drove a hard bargain and got us a small bottle of water with our remaining money.

Upon boarding the train, we were pleasantly surprised to find that our two rooms (since we were forced to buy the expensive 2 per berth tickets) shared a bathroom. We spent most of the trip with the bathroom doors open so that we could lock the main doors and keep an eye on our stuff.


This time it was my turn to sleep on the top bunk. Unfortunately for me, I was so sore that every time I had to swing up there, every muscle in my body screamed out in pain.


The train's heater on the way to Mongolia had only run for a short time in the morning and a short time at night, but apparently in the expensive seats, the heater runs 24 hours a day. All three of us were quickly dying of heat. We did take advantage of it, though, by placing our leftover Mexican and Indian food on top of the heating coils to warm our lunch.

Sometime on the trip, Marilyn had introduced me and Justin to a card game that she called PaiQi (Rows of 7) growing up. Apparently it's also called Sevens or Dominoes in other parts of the world. Whether we got the rules wrong or she learned it differently, M's version of Sevens included the exciting rule of being able to "burn" cards when you couldn't play. Since the goal of the game is to take turns building out from each suit's seven up to the King and down to the Ace, a burned card meant other players were stuck with unplayable cards, which would then be counted against them at the end of the round. We wiled away hours upon hours of this game, often squabbling and bickering about how tightfisted and withholding the other players were being. Despite M's insistence that I would sneak up from behind to win it, she easily took the first 3 games. I was finally able to sneak past Justin in the final game for the 500 point win. It was a controversial last hand as we were pulling into Beijing, so we grabbed our stuff, disembarked, and ran across the street to Mcdonald's to grab some food and replay the last hand. We started up a new tally in Beijing, although Justin now aptly calls it "The Evil Game". Currently, Justin's up by about 150 points on us. Looks like his turn has finally come.

Other than that crazy card game, we spent the rest of the time moaning about the heat, sleeping, and eating ramen and peanut-butter/jelly or nutella sandwiches. The return trip went by quite fast, and before we knew it, we were home:

From Beijing Dou

The Mongolian Adventure was over. We returned victorious (and very sore).

So that's it. Thanks for following along on our crazy trip. I'm sure we went into a lot more detail than you needed, so you're a trooper for reading all of it.

We've tossed around the idea of trying to do the whole Transiberian next time: Moscow - Irkustk (Risk players, you know wassup...) - Ulaan Baatar - Beijing. Who's in?

Mongolia : Day 4

Well, the care package was certainly a pleasant surprise and a welcome distraction from the Mongolia travelogue, but the show must go on...

Going through pictures, I just realized I missed an important event from day 3:

Justin had stepped out of the room for a second, and I was in the middle of changing when he knocked. As he came in, I jumped onto the superbed, wearing only my long underwear, flailing and dancing around. Thinking quickly, he realized what a uniquely blackmailable sight he had before him, and whipped out his camera, which is apparently designed for exactly this kind of quick access. Unfortunately, for him, I'm quick on the draw with my dances too. I've had plenty of practice stopping a dance in mid-motion, which I promptly did. Marilyn saw an opportunity of her own, and tackled me to try and tickle me.

Even after she relented and went back to packing, I was still laughing so hard that I had a hard time rolling over and getting up.

Good times, good times. Justin got the full experience traveling with the beans.

Anyway, if you're still reading this, and there's a good chance I lost you with those long underwear shots, on to day 4.

Day 4 started bright and early with some peanut butter, nutella, and banana sandwiches as we waited for our driver to show. Our hostel had some arrangements with local independent tour operators, and we had chosen the "small Japanese car with English speaking driver" since we didn't need an SUV or Russian Jeep (we passed a few during the day, those things are freaky). Apparently some other tour lets you drive a tank around; if I had one regret from Mongolia, it's not paying the big bucks to commandeer a tank. I'll just go ahead and say it (sorry Justin): Justin's big regret is not wrestling a Mongolian man...

Shortly after 9, our driver, Tushik, pulled up. We had thus far found Mongolians to be extremely gregarious and welcoming, and Tushik was no exception. We loaded our packs into the back of the car and set out into the Mongolian pseudo-wilderness.

We drove for a while, Justin riding shotgun and chatting happily with our driver, me and M in the back alternately dozing off. (Something about being in a car just puts me right to sleep. You might want to remember that the next time I'm in the driver's seat). The city, its outskirts, and the small mining towns along the way faded into the distance as we entered Terelj National Park. As we passed through the gate, our driver told us, "Normally, you would have to pay an entrance fee, but since you do not look like foreigners, no fee." We all gave a rousing cheer in honor of our Asian faces. Looking like a local causes me some trouble in Beijing; the parents at my weekend job sometimes want a foreign face to go with their foreign teachers. Unfortunately for them, I don't count. Some companies even pay ABCs, and other native English speakers of Asian descent, less than they pay white or obviously "foreign" teachers. This time, however, our Asian faces saved us 9000 tugrug (about $8usd). Booyah...

We had only been in the park a few minutes when we passed a couple camels tethered on the side of the road. "Camels!" I exclaimed (as my alter-ego: Captain Obvious), and our driver swerved off the road and screeched to a halt. We all piled out of the car to have a look. At a safe distance, of course, since we'd been warned about the full range of a camel's spit. As we gaped at the camels, a man came up and pulled one of them to its knees. He motioned for one of us to mount it. Justin and Marilyn seemed a bit camel-shy, so I went first. It was here that Justin's quick access camera came in handy:

It all happened so fast that the look on my face here is mostly disbelief, as in "wait a second...am I on a camel?" Plus, I had just gingerly put my hand on its hump (its hump...its lovely camel hump...), only to find it surprisingly...hmm supple is the word that comes to mind, but the usage is quite awkward.

Off I go...

From Beijing Dou

The camel warrior returns victoriously from his first camel campaign

From Beijing Dou

M was up next:

From Beijing Dou

From Beijing Dou

And Justin had to go next, since we'd endlessly tease him if he didnt:

From Beijing Dou

From Beijing Dou

This is what the view from up top looks like:


The whole experience was actually quite pleasant. The camels didn't smell nearly as bad as we had been told, and the camel's hair was actually quite soft.

We rolled back into the car, and headed on our merry way.

"Do you want to climb cave?" Our driver asked us a few minutes later as we passed an outcropping of rock with a small cave inside. "Sure, why not?" So he put the car in reverse, and backed up to the rock.

From Beijing Dou

Next up, Turtle Rock.
Oddly enough, turtle rock is a large rock that...looks like a turtle. Here, an intrepid explorer approaches the mighty turtle:

From Beijing Dou

Not sure what's going on here, but it looks exciting.

From Beijing Dou

After turtle rock, we had lunch in the spare bedroom of the turtle rock snack shop. M had tasty chicken soup, Justin had a beef and mutton tail soup with pieces of dough, his favorite Mongolian meal of the trip, and I had pan-fried lamb and beef, which I cracked a tooth on. Nice...(Going to have that fixed tomorrow. Beijing dentistry might be worth a post, we'll see.)

After lunch, we headed up the road to a Buddhist monastery halfway up the hill. Although Buddhism took a big hit in Mongolia during the Soviet communist era, now that Mongolia is democratic, it's coming back. As we made our way up to the monastery, we were led by a spunky black dog. Halfway up, another dog came and tried to lead us and the two dogs got in a bit of a growling match.

In between us and the monastery? A large ravine that we had to cross old-school bridge style.

From Beijing Dou

From Beijing Dou

Over the ravine, and up the stairs...

From Beijing Dou

Halfway point celebrations:

From Beijing Dou

We were too cheap to go inside. So we took a few pictures, enjoyed the view, and then it was time to head back down.

From Beijing Dou

After the monastery, it was time to head to our host family's tent. We had decided we could save money by sending Tushik home and riding horses back to civilization. It seemed like a good idea at the time. Since we had wanted to stay with a Mongolian family in a ger, our guide, Bolta, offered to let us stay with his family for the night so we could leave together the next morning.

Here we are, outside the ger:

From Beijing Dou

Yes, that's a satellite dish in the background. We spent a good part of the night watching some Mongolian-dubbed Luke Wilson movie, which IMDB now tells me was "Henry Poole is Here".

We met Bolta's wife, Ambolta, and two-year old daughter, Anochin, who was cute as a button. But, after Tushik left, our only way of communicating with them was by charades. So we decided to let her and her daughter enjoy the afternoon without having to awkwardly stare at some foreigners. We'd have plenty of time for that after dinner. Before he left, Tushik told us we could climb up the ridge behind the ger, so we decided to give it a go.

The ascent.

From Beijing Dou

Upon discovering two dead trees on the ground.

From Beijing Dou

I told Justin I'd give him a dollar if he could climb to the top of these rocks. He failed. I'll give him an A for affort.

From Beijing Dou

Justin dubbed this rock "The Nose".

From Beijing Dou

After a couple hours of scrabbling around on rocks, we got a bit cold and decided to head back.

Back at the ger, we watched Ambolta make dinner, a traditional Mongolian dish called Tsuivan. She rolled some dough out into what looked like tortillas, partially baked them on top of the stove, then cut them into small noodle-like pieces. Then she stir-fried some beef and vegetables, added some water, placed the noodles on top, and then covered it to let it steam. It was delicious. While Ambolta was making dinner, we played with Anochin. She was quite taken with The Book, which caused some trouble when we wanted to look up Mongolian words and phrases in the back. One time, Anochin started crying because we were using the book, and her mom gave her one of the chocopies that we had brought as gifts. And everything was okay.

Here she is keeping a close watch on The Book.


M tried to teach her football, but she just wanted to throw it, not kick it. We also accidentally taught her how to hit people with a water bottle, hehe.


After dinner, we sat around watching a dubbed Korean drama, then Luke Wilson. Bolta came home eventually, and we all hung out for a bit. Generous host that he was, Bolta offered the three of us a strange white square. Then he made a bullhorn gesture. Hmm...it must be a cow product. But it's a powdery white square. Cognitive dissonance alarms went off like crazy! We all took tentative bites. It tasted like a cross between dried sour yogurt and beef. Hmmm...Justin and M snuck their squares into their pockets. I finished mine by trying not to think about it as I took big bites out of it.

Somewhere around 8:30, we started nodding off, so they set up a futon and mattress pad for us. Justin had brought some kind of high-tech mummy bag, and Bolta and his family got a huge laugh out of him climbing inside of his bag and standing up to change his pants while still inside of it. Eventually we all went to sleep. I'm pretty sure I gave them a poor impression of Americans with my incessant snoring.

And so ends day 4 of our Mongolian adventure. Whew, what a write-up! Stay tuned, M gets to write up the crazy times: the horse ride back.

Mongolia : Day 3

We awoke, bright and early, after a wonderfully long sleep. Although, Justin had to get his earplugs out in the middle of the night because I was snoring really loudly. Normally I just snore loudly, but since I was still getting over a cold, I was especially noisy. M claims she couldn't hear a thing.

As usual, the first order of business once we got out the door was to eat. We checked The Book and headed down the street to Chez Bernard, which was supposed to serve a decent western breakfast. Ordering was an exciting experience, since the waitress couldn't speak any of the languages we spoke. Justin tried to ask her a question about one of the items on the menu, only to accidentally order it and have it show up at our table a few minutes later. Luckily, it was something we wanted. The food was decent, albeit a bit pricier than Beijing's western food. Next, we had to buy our return tickets home. It took us a while to find the international train ticket office, and when we did, we discovered a strange peculiarity of Mongolian architecture. Many buildings will have their back doors face the main street and place their main entrances around back along what usually appears to be a random alley. All of the cheap tickets were sold out, so we had a little adventure going to the bank to exchange some more money.

Once we got our tickets squared away, we figured we'd head over to the Natural History Museum to check out some famous dinosaur bones. At first we had some problems hailing a cab, so I did a little Taxi Dance to summon a cabbie. The first driver decided he didn't want to read the address in The Book and instead flipped to the giant map of Mongolia in the back. "No no, what's going on here? This won't do," Justin exclaimed as we aborted and hopped out of the car. It was here that we realized that the incredible lack of official taxis in Ulaan Baatar was not because it lacked taxis. If you just wave your hand on a corner, some random car will stop for you and offer to take you there for the standard rate. It's a bit unnerving at first, but you get used to it. Unfortunately, we didn't check The Book very closely, as the museum is closed on Mondays. We stood outside, alternately shaking our fists at the museum and scratching our heads, then decided to head to the Black Market. Hey, it's not what you think! The Black Market is basically a flea market on steroids. We took a long stroll around the place and saw just about anything one could want for sale. We ended up with 2 pairs of sweats labeled "Russia", one knit hat, and one soccer ball.

Once we were done with the Black Market, it was time to eat again! So we hopped in a cab and tried to head back into the main part of town. A couple minutes into the ride, I noticed that the cab driver's gas light was on. A couple minutes later, we were on the side of the road and the car wouldn't start. The driver got out, said a few unintelligible Mongolian words to us, and ran away with a small jug in hand. We toyed with the idea of getting out, but decided it'd be too much trouble to explain where we were going to the next driver. That and the fact that Justin's door didn't have a handle. The driver was struggling to find the place, so finally we gave up and decided to find it on foot. The three of us agreed that we'd rather not be there when the couple liters he'd just added ran out on him.

As we were walking, it became clear to us that the restaurant was actually next door to Modern Nomads, where we'd eaten the day before, so we strolled back toward familiar territory. On the way, we passed the Chinggis beer brewey, and decided to try our luck at an uninvited tour. As luck would have it, the kind folks at Chinggis Beer gave us a splendid tour, replete with a hearty toast with the German Brewmaster. All in all, it was a pleasant surprise, and we left the brewery grateful for our struggling cab driver's ineptitude.

From Beijing Dou

After we left the brewery, we crossed the street to take a picture of the sign, and noticed a sign advertising Haribo candies. We couldn't resist, so we scurried into the mall in search of Haribo. A couple packs of Sour Dinosaurs and German Raspberries later, we were ready for dinner. We finally found the restaurant and headed inside. It was a Korean restaurant with an Japanese Teppanyaki buffet, decorated somewhere in between a ski lodge and a hunting lodge. Justin caught us marvelling at the decor.


After dinner, we bought some groceries for our excursion, and then headed home. Curious about the bar/cafe on the ground floor of the building we were staying in, we stopped by, and were pleasantly surprised by the performances of one Mongolian lounge singer and one Mongolian jazz pianist. They were both quite talented; it was extremely surreal. Things were getting late, though, so we didn't stay long, quickly heading upstairs to pack and sleep.

All in all, it was a strange day with a few unexpected twists. But the next few days in a Mongolian National Park promised to be even more of an adventure...

Mongolia : Day 1

As we were too cheap to fly, and too adventurous to pass up a partial ride along the famed Trans Siberian Railroad, we began our Mongolian adventure with a 30 hour train ride.

From Beijing Dou

Here's the three of us, looking chipper, preparing to board our 7:45am train out of Beijing.

As you can see, we settled into our hard-class sleeper bunks quite quickly.

From Beijing Dou

The gentle rocking (aside from the occasional inexplicable jolt) of the train lulled us into semi-consciousness. In between naps, we watched the northern Chinese countryside zoom past us.

From Beijing Dou

I do mean that literally.

From Beijing Dou

At some point in the late afternoon, someone looked out the window and mumbled, "hey, the Great Wall..." We took a short break from Big 2 to snap a quick shot:

From Beijing Dou

We ate. A lot. And eventually, the sun set.

From Beijing Dou

Then things got really interesting. We hit the Chinese border around 10. But, apparently, the Mongolian rail engineers weren't really talking to the Chinese ones, because the rail gauges are different. So we had to wait for 3 1/2 hours inside a customs checkpoint while the wheels were changed. We braved the mad crowds and loaded up on snacks using some advanced elbow technique.

Since the three of us had been feeling kind of sick, we had each eagerly popped a tylenol cold (drowsy!), only to have it hit us while in the waiting room at customs. Justin snapped this picture of us struggling to stay awake.


We got back on the train by 12:30, but spent the next two hours stopping and starting our way through the Mongolian border. Being startled awake by the salute of an imposing Monglian border official in leather boots, woolen coat, and Soviet style hat was certainly a new one for me. Finally, we were through, and we could sleep.

I awoke early, hoping to catch a glimpse of the Gobi desert. My geography's poor, but this might be it:

From Beijing Dou

*shrug*

The landscape was drastically different from China. People had warned us that Mongolia would be cold. Really cold.

From Beijing Dou

We pulled into Ulaan Baatar slightly late, around 2pm. We stumbled groggily off the train and met up with the owner of the hostel we would be staying at...

All in all, it was a pleasant train ride. M and I got a little depressed when we realized the train beds were more comfortable than our bed at the apartment. A sad sad realization. I'm not sure if I could last all the way to Moscow, although Justin and M certainly seem to thrive on the train.

Anyway, that's it for our first day. You can look forward to more later!

Back from Mongolia

Sorry for the week long hiatus, but we were in Mongolia on Visa trouble = Vacation #2. We couldn't exactly blog as we were trekking through the Mongolian countryside on horseback, but expect a serious play by play soon. I've got to jump right back into work tomorrow and next week, so you can blame Marilyn when you come up empty-handed as you rapidly click the refresh button. ;).

An Adventure of Olympic Proportions

Friday morning was my last day of summer camp, so Marilyn joined me for an English party with my students. We got really into a competitive game of Disney Monopoly. Marilyn and one of my students destroyed us. After the party, we headed back to our place to meet up with our friend Amy who flew in to hit up the Olympics too.

After meeting up with her friend, we ventured onto the subway, which was chock full of other Olympic spectator hopefuls...


It took a while to get through security, but once we did, we were rewarded with this glorious sight:

As far as I can tell, this is some kind of Mongolian Dance Crew, a little girl, a couple foreigners, and a devilish HuanHuan (the torch Fuwa)

In the distance, the great Olympus...if Olympus were the name of some gigantic bird's nest.


Our first objective (after documenting the Mongolian Dance Crew): Eat!
The only two choices in the Olympic Village? Mcdonalds or some weird self-steaming lunchbox...we decided to brave the mob and go for the arches.


A fatigued and weary traveler glances back disdainfully, the golden arch cheerily illuminating the disgruntled horde.


After eating, we made our way to the Bird's Nest. Only to find a strange mythical creature posing for photo opps.


Further along, we encountered a not-so mythical creature: ten-time Emmy award winner Al Roker. Marilyn and I hung around for a bit trying to insert ourselves into the background of various Today Show shots.


As we climb the steps to Nest Olympus, a sweet shot of the Water Cube:


The highlight of the event: Men's 4 x 100m relays. Look closely and you can see Usain Bolt smashing the competition and the world record. History is being made here, and we're watching it from about 200 rows back! Yessss...


A couple rows up from us? A group of Jamaicans.



Our Jingjing flag looks a lot like the Jamaican one. I wave it in solidarity.


Bolt and friends come by for a celebratory dance. We and the Jamaicans watch from 200 rows back.


Torch and Moon


Torch and Beans


So that's it, our Olympic adventure! Keep an eye on the flickr stream for more pics.