TRAVELOGUE #7

When: Sunday, June 18
Where: Southern Mongolia

This morning I woke up at 5 AM to find the world dressed head to toe in khaki. The Gobi Desert does not mess around, people. It is all about the sand! After running from window to window snapping pictures and upsetting god knows how many polyester curtains, I finally gave into the fact that I had to use the loo. The bathroom door was locked, so I turned around and gazed something awestruck out the window. When I turned back to the bathroom door, I found this Chinese guy standing there, toothbrush in hand. I say to him in Chinese, paidui (line up, pal). He goes on about how he’d been in line the whole time, while it was obvious to me that he had been between cars smoking and “waiting in line” at the same time. I gave him a very unhappy look. So he asks me if I had to pee or take a shit. In Chinese it is quite literally, do you need to make a big one or a small one? Sheeeeesh. I couldn’t answer his question, because quite honestly I didn’t know at that exact point in time. I mean, I had hopes for wonderful things, but sometimes you have to wait and see. I didn’t know how to articulate these sentiments in Chinese so early in the morning, so I made like I didn’t understand him. But really, it was none of his business.

For your information: “Ger” and “Yurt” are the same thing. The former is a Mongolian word and the latter is Russian. Last night for dinner I ate three Asian cucumbers, a bag of dried squid and half a bottle of beer.

I napped from 10 AM to 11 AM and in that short period of time, Mongolia had a costume change. She took off her flat khaki fatigues and put on deep green velvet that seemed to accentuate her voluptuous figure. The hilltops remained a soft brown, like the worn out knees in a pair of old corduroy pants.