Lesson 1: There is both a microbus schedule, and a crumbling shelter that marks the pick up spot for a van that takes townspeople between the town and the capital. Ignore both. Instead, listen to your host when she tells you,”Don’t bother with the microbus stop, go straight to the driver’s house. And [laughing], 8 … Continue reading
I. In the openness of the train station the sound of my rolling luggage disappears into the muted sound of other passengers hurrying to board with their unwieldy belongings. We are making our way down the Beijing Railway platform and my companion is speaking, but that too dissolves into the intangible - I’ve glimpsed the … Continue reading
Ulaanbaatar is not a quiet city. It is loud and impatient. The clamor of development and collapse gnash at your senses. Car horns bray the displeasure of their drivers. You are confronted by the din of construction, the acrid smell of newly tarred roads, and the reflection of post-socialism in the glossy new buildings around … Continue reading
June 10, 2011 It was hunger, I think, that finally drove me out of my hot, muggy room, into the hot, muggy Beijing morning. I’d been awake since about 6:30 a.m., and by 8:00 a.m., even I’d had enough of my stalling. Armed with my Chinese phrases for the day (“I don’t understand” and “I’m … Continue reading
I decided it might be neat to collect a few lines from some of the postcards I’ve sent home from these thousands of miles away. The type of person who still marvels at the ability of jumbo jets to lift themselves miles above the ground, I find it pretty neat that I can send a … Continue reading
