Yann and Karoline post-graduation trip

A piercing sun awakens me as the train continues forward towards Beijing. I stumble out of our 4 bed "room" into the hallway and find one of our German neighbors. He has been traveling for nearly 3 weeks with 2 girls that he did not know before leaving for the trip. They found each other on a website for solo travelers looking for like-minded people to share the same itinerary... this trio definitely did not work out. Although the two girls were quite attractive, or maybe because of this fact, they had somewhat "ganged" up on him in, in the bad sense, which caused a major rift.He has decided to go solo in Beijing. In the restaurant car, we finish the coffees we made from Mongolian bought packets and prepare for our first Chinese meal (the restaurant care was switched at the border". Hélas, they do not accept Mongolian Tugriks. As we finally understand that our first meal will have to wait, the train stops. Are we already in Datong? We run back, finish packing (throw in all stuff lying around), say "schuss" to our German friends and hop off. Now what??? No map, no hotel, no idea of Chinese. Let's walk and find an internet portal. "Taxi...taxi" - here it goes! We ask the man where we can find google. He shows us the hotel and we walk in. Another "taxi...taxi" but this one is harder to shake and luckily follows us... he accepts our 1000 Tugriks and pays 5 RNB for our 1/2 of internet access. Two vultures fly around us sometimes peaking over our shoulders to see what we are looking at. I tell them to scram and they resume their circular flight waiting right for the prey right outside the cafe door. We finish and I ask the much nicer one to take us to a cheap hotel in the center. Here I omit the lengthy and laugh filled negotiatory process. We get a surely overpriced room ($26) and resign to our room. Quick shower and we are off to the Yungang Grottoes or Cloud Ridge Caves. Lying 16km west of Datong, we understand we must take bus 4 and then 3 to the end. No problems since bus numbers are in Latin. The Yungang Grottoes, in Shanxi Province, are an assortment of 53 caves containing more than 51,000 stone statues of Buddhas along a 1km cliff in the Wuzhou Mountains. These caves are a relic of thee Northern Wei Dynasty (386-534AD). The size, like many things we will surely see in China, is immense. You enter through a large Pagoda surrounded by a moat. Small boats, likely for tourists, only contain a few workers playing cards, yelling as they smack down a winning draw. We finish our tour and head back on bus #3. Time to get lost... we jump off, more or less at a desired location (according to our map), and walk into the middle of a huge street market. People smile and talk to us. Don't understand a thing! We finally choose a restaurant and enter... "kneehow". Everyone in the entire place turns around... granted there were only 8 people but they start talking and saying "hello". We sit down and 5 servers crowd around. Our point-it book (a collection of >6000 common images that can be used during travel in places where you don't speak the language) gets us nowhere... seem like this may be a specialty restaurant serving only one tyep of meal. We communicate "chicken" through wing flaps and clucking... we all laugh. Out comes a black wok-type steel food cooker that is set in the the middle of the table on top of a flame. We sit there looking at our food that is still covered not knowing hot to eat it... we wait. Rice comes, the top is removed and the fire coming from the middle of the table is turned on high. Inside, an entire cut up chicken sits with cilantro, sichuan pepper, ginger, some spicy oil... wow! So good. What a change from Mongolian cuisine. We pay and leave looking for an internet café. 4th floor in a newer building with glass elevators on the outside of the building... just like in the movies. A cavernous place with hundreds of comps and eager faces playing games, watching movies, chatting.

It was only upon our return from the trip that I found out some people were actually reading the blog that I was trying to digitize every so often when I happened upon an internet cafe, my small journal in hand. I would often write about my thoughts of the day, either sitting on a bus, laying in the sands next to the Mekong, or just after waking up in another random bed lost in a place so far away from "home". And so, as I sit in Kensington Maryland, after 3 months of travelling in places that couldn't be more different than the place in which I find myself, I have decided to finish putting into this blog the end of our trip. So many of the people that we met would kill for such a life: plenty of food, a warm place to sleep, a quiet and safe neighborhood, job security; and yet, walking about on a sunny afternoon with Karoline, the sight of a lone child playing by herself in her middle class front yard, talking to imaginary friends breaks my heart. Peace and quiet are nice... but human contact and friction is what makes life enjoyable and worth living. And so after a day spent in the city that decides so many other peoples' lives, through declarations of war to financial decisions made in DC that ultimately effect people in so many parts of the world, I have decided to revisit my small orange journal bought in Moscow, carried through 6 different countries, in order to share some of the memories Karol and I have shared.

10.10.11 Datong, Shanxi Province, China

We have now entered the red panda. Following the cool and uninterested demeanor of the residents of the red bear, the easy smiles and yelled "hellos" are a welcome change. We took train #24 from Ulaan Bator to Datong following the advice of a random German traveler that we met in Mongolia right before he was to take off by horseback for a 2 day ride into the countryside. It left at 7:15 am from UB and we arrived approximately 24 hours later. No 3rd class exists and so we took hard sleeper (2nd class in Russia... fancy for us) which is 4 beds per cabin. The train feels "very nice, very modern", a phrase that had been repeated to us by a fantastic grandfather that had given us a 24 hour tour of his birth city, Bratislava in 2005 right before we had gotten married. Signs were electronic, the cabins looked new, the beds were long enough for my extended frame, and the restaurant care was bright and full of Mongols all the time. The train felt comfortable and was also the first train in which we found many other tourists. When we gave our passports at the chinese border, I saw a stack of German passports. OUr cabin-mates were from Germany and were hoping to travel 2-3 years.. they were "only" 3 months in. To pass the time, we played a game called "asshole" that I had often played before often winning the designation of the game's name. Interestingly, before arriving at the border, nobody told us to go the the WC since would be locked in our respective cars for >4 hours without access to a bathroom during which passports were checked and wagons were given new wheels. This latter part was quite interesting making the no bathroom rule quite sane indeed. Since the width of the rails are different between Mongolia and China, each wagon must be hoisted up individually while workers and machines removed old wheels and added the new: a formula 1-type pit stop in very slow motion! As we are finally allowed out of our momentary prisons, great musical classics (Bach then Beethoven) are piped through loudspeakers infusing the border train station with an eerie regal feel. These classical masterpieces have been reworked containing a small synthesizer background beat that makes you feel as if you would lift off the ground were you to run fast enough. The station is very clean and grandiose with a castle-like main station. I jump off with 1 Germans to snap a few pics. It is just after midnight and I am feeling quite tired. We have our first Chinese beer sitting on the tracks. Sleep will be good!

The electronic display tells us that the outside temperature is -10C and that we should not touch the electrical control for danger of electrocution. Another day without a cloud in the sky. We will soon arrive in the Gobi desert. We wanted to stay one more night in Ulaan Bator but unfortunately there were no more train tickets for Sunday morning. Seeing the chinese characters in our electrical chinese train, makes me think of Liyong Deng and his explosive remarkson pooluting the world! The resturant wagon in which Iwrite ismuch livelier than in the Russian trains. Whereas the Russian trains,although much better than Amtrak and the LIRR (non-new yorkers please check on line!) felt older and less well maintained. I already feel China's push into the future in this higher tech clean train that crosses the steepes of Mongolia.I only slept 5 hours last night since we had to wake up @ 5:30 AM this morning to arrive at the train station on time. Yesterday afternoon, Shoes (karoline for those who don't know) and I went to buy our train tickets and then saw a lovely monestary in Ulaan Bator. Although the building was nice, it was surrounded by slum looking areas dotted with gers and broken wooden fences.The atmosphere coming form the juxtoposition of a Buddhist temple and the realities of Mongolian city living could be felt through the dust and pollution. As we walked towards the building,along the sidewalk of the main avenue that was dotted by trees, a manhole containing no man but only hole had to be circumnavigated. I had read in the lonely planet that open sewer holes and live electrical wires were dangers in UB. We head out searching for food but somehow end up in a beauty salon (I can only wonder how?!?!). Karol has decided to get her nails done for which she will have to wait for 20 minutes. I figure that my fro should go since we will soon be leaving sub-freezing temps! 1 hour wait. I tell Karol that I will go out and search for another place to get a haircut and so I leave her in the middle of fashionably dressed Mongols. I find many places but choose "Destroy Salobn" in hopes that they may destroy the fro! Karol even said I looked like bozo the clown! A young man is assigned to the foreigner. He is used to cutting straight ink-black hair and seems almost nervous to be cutting curly brown hair. A nice shampoo starts the festivities. Never has so much attention to detail been splayed upon my follicles. He even saw that I had a very long eyebrow that protruded like an elk tree in a rose forest, which he quickly trimmed using comb and electrical razor. He finished it off with a second wash and a 2 minute scalp massage. UB HERE I COME! I pick up Mrs. Ravussin whoses nails look much better than 24 hours prior in our ger. We print out a photo taken with Gana's parents and head back to our hostel. On the way we stop for groceries that we will need for the train ride and meet up with Ed, our Australian travel mate that we have now "randomly" met in 3 cities. He reminds us of our mission: Maire's milk (fermented of course) is bought and we add Camel's milk (also fermented) for fun!. Back at the hostel, we try the Maire's mild with a girl that works in the hostel. She proudly tells us that she is from the same city as Chinggis Khan, the famous warrior and leader that created the largest empire and forced the chinese to build the wall. She tells us that most tourists prefer the mongolian "cosmopolitan" (kisses to Lisa in rio that got Karol to try her first cosmopolitan in New Orleans) with a bit of sugar. We, not being whimps of any sorts, go for the "raw" beverage! Wow! Even though it was not my favorite, I finished all the glasses served to me... in good yammy style (JDO hope all is well at Yale!). I still have not eaten... waiting for Karoline to come back from her shower... I think she has fasted me with "dangerous" UB sitting outside of our warm hostel... we may never leave nor ever eat! I finally eat a soup with bread and ham and finally sleep... And now I sit in a sun baked restaurant wagon visited by Mongols and tourists alike! I awaited to see the Gobi which should be only a few hours away... I will not sleep in the desert!

Dear friends and family,
First, I apologize for the long silence. Unfortunately, before leaving NYC, we decided not to take Karoline's mini-laptop thinking that the extra weight would be more of a hassle than anything... I wish we had brought it! The chances of actually finding a computer with a decent internet connection and the time of transcribing from my little orange russian journal to the www has been more than prohibitive. plus, following 19 hour train trips through China, i prefer relaxing than sitting down and putting down my thoughts on this blog.

Hopefully, as time goes forward and we get to calmer settings (i.e. Laos), the frequency of entries will go up! I just realized that the last time I wrote we were still in Russia... wow, we have now spent more than 3 weeks in China! what a country...

ok now that I have given my mea culpa, let me take you back to Mongolia in early October... we are presently in Dali China where the weather actually feels quite similar to Mongolia so many weeks ago... but you guys have been able to see a few photos from there. I just tried uploading photos on these fast Hong Kong connected comps to no avail!

10.06.11 - Mongolia

In a ger about one and a half hours drive from Ulaan Bator. Dogs attack donkeys, dogs attach dogs, dogs attach prairie dogs. The vastyness of the countryside is grandiose. We hiked up a small mountain/hill to get a better view. Long valleys are clottedwith round gers, the traditional Mongol housing. In the afternoon, an Aussie (Ed), a Chinese-American (Ning), Karoline and I helped take down on of these highly portable houses. The 2 people taking down the ger smiled, telling us that a ger was only 1,000 US dollars, much cheaper than anything we could get back home (this includes Switzerland, US, and Brazil). I kept thinking that a ger on the mall in DC may make for a lovely home! They are circular with a sloping roof that arrives at a center circular wooden piece through which the chimney leaves. The stove, the centerpiec of the home, is used for both heating and cooking. Two poles hold up the circular center up from the ground. A door is found on one part of the circular base. The round outside consists of trellis sections that are tied together until completing a full circle. This trellis serves as the infrastructure onto which large thick rectangles of cotton and sheep hair are placed to construct the outside walls and isolate the inside from the all too often frigid outside temperatures... one layer in summer while 3 or more are needed in winter! Temperatures often fall below -40C in the winter and in most places, only cow, horse & sheep feces, well dried, is used as fuel. Well dried means less smoke and almost no odor. The afternoon also brought with it a leisurely stroll by horseback in thge mongolian steppes. Gana,the young 13 year old boy that is continuously smiling and laughing, finds the 4 tourists quite clumsy on the horses. His horse seems to lead our 4 horses that nearly stop any chance they have... lazy lazy horses indeed. We only found out a few hours later that their laziness was actually our fault and lack of horseriding knowhow. In the setting sun, Gana jumped on one of the horses, bareback, and ran across the valley at mind-boggling spees. I have rearely seen such a symbiosis between man and animal! How was he not only able to stay on the horse, but actually glide above it as if suspended by quickly moving silk threads???
At night, a fire was started in our ger and we ate chatting about the day. We decided we still had 2 missions in mongolia: 1 was to find the "elusive" 2-humped camel and drink fermented Maires mild, the mongolian specialty drink. We found out only later that before the soviets arrived in 1947 and brought vodka and beer, this was the only alcolohol found in the entire country... both will be accomplished soon!

Following breakfast of pancakes and jam, we (more I convince Karol) rent bikes and decide to take a route that @even a very old man@ did in <5 hours. We never made it to the top. Karoline Armstrong was not sufficiently Legstrong to get up the @mountain@ as she called it. Obviously she has the wrong last name! Even with the prodding and trailblazing help of our trusted black dog, we decided to turn around and head back to the village. From there, 2 teas and a quick warming of the hands and then I was off towards the north and the small sandy beach near a forest. Liberated from my motherly wife's constant worry about my safety, my true desire for adventure takes over as I head full speed straight down a mountain of sand barely keeping my 2-wheeled vehicle upright. WHAT A FEELING. I arrive at the bottom with a grin as expansive as the lake itself. As poorly as my bike worked on the downhill, pushing it through level planes of silicone particles was even more strenuous. The lake is finally at my feet. I remove my clothing piece by piece in the 6-oclock sun that is still transmitting enough heat in the Siberian south. I remove all my clothing except 1 piece since 4 people are sitting about 80 meters away. This article of clothing will only protect the imperial coffre from unwanted gazes, no the undesirable effects of nearly frozen water. The incoming lack of kinetic energy in the 9C water is quickly transmitted to my entire body. I had set up the camera with a delayed shot to prove my excursion into the largest lake in the world. The cold is heart stopping to the point that getting out (into 14C temps) actually feels warm. What a great afternoon! I hurry back uphill pushing the heavy bike and meet Karoline for our Russian banya.