Birthday on the Border, Molly

My birthday was the other day. We were in Saen-Shed. It was great and fun. They got me presents and blueberry torte!

We left the border that day, heading for UB at last. At last. It's a very apt phrase. For several years I've heard people talk about UB. I've always responded with wonder and fascination. Finally, I was going to be there.

On the train ride I had one of those moments: Those teenage, coming-of-age story moments when the characters are sitting around together and say cliched things that feel deeply philosophical at the time. I go too far with these analogies sometimes. Allie was telling us about her conversations with the Inner Mongolian University students (see below.) They didn't have concepts for what we were doing. I realized she was right. Several of them had asked me repeatedly if we were all graduate students. Emily had followed this up by saying that she feels privileged and lucky, that seeing these places and meeting these people reminds her what's out there in the world and all that she has. [If I'm messing this up, please correct me -M.]

This is all true.*

Trains are a unique thing in the parts of Asia I've been. The tracks (according to Allison) are different gauges in Mongolia and China. In order to cross from one country to another, each car has to be lifted up individually and have the wheels changed. This takes about nine hours. They do this because China was afraid Russia would use Mongolia, and their rail system, to invade. They took drastic measures to keep this from happening. Sleeping on trains is also a thing of joy. Every time we've gotten to sleep on a train, I've been so dead tired, so exhausted, that I feel as though I really deserve the sleep I'm getting. Allison woke us up in time to be ready to get off in time for UB. Chinggis's image, carved into the side of a mountain, greeted us.

Chinggis has transformed from this hero (bator in Mongolian) to a person, a member of the group, Every step of the trip, from conception to this moment in UB, he's been along the way with us in some way. He's gone from Ghengis Khan to Chinggis. Like a friend, I look for him in the streets and smile whenever I catch his eye.

When we got off the train, we were in UB.

Nothing, not the months of classes, endless hours of talking, wikipedia articles, or China, could possibly have prepared me for UB. I've gotten so used to being the only Westerners around, that I find myself surprised at how many white people are in the city. And UB is a city. There are skyscrapes, development, and a substantial population. There are street kids who are so heartbreakingly sad. I wish I could take care of them, but I can't even take care of myself. We've had Allison and Amanda try to prep us for dealing with the beggars. I've been thinking "I'm from Philadelphia and Pittsburgh, I can handle panhandlers." I was not ready for a dirty, hungry looking little kid walking beside me saying "Help. Money."

UB is great though. If no one has referred to it as a gem in the desert, an oasis--someone should have. UB rises up out of the ground as this beautiful testament to post-soviet decay, soviet grandeur, modern engineering, and idyllic Mongolian life. There's everything here. The train passed through Ger districts. A fin-shaped building of glass and metal is being constructed. We talked through Sukbaator Square, where marble columns are offset by gold colored statues. Soviet-era apartment buildings, a unique shade of sickly-yellow, stand with chunks torn out of them.

It's a beautiful city.

I think I'm in love. (Again.)

*I would be waxing philosophic there way too much, so I'll continue my rant in a footnote. [Allison, if this is inappropriate, please tell me. -M.] On the train we were gross. Seriously. We hadn't showered in about three days, four for some people. We were all wearing clothes we'd worn before. We were sweating. We had dirt under our nails from -China-, dirt that will probably never be completely gone. And I, at least, was so incredibly happy. There are people who are that way, who travel and are dirty and don't sleep, because they have to. The fact that I chose to have my life be this way, even for a short period of time, changes the feeling of it. Uhh, I could keep going on how great this is, but soon I'll be bringin' out the existentialism. I'll save you that pain. Short version: I chose this. I can enjoy it because of that.