What are we paying for?

Out in the cold on a Sat night

[This anecdote is from last week.] Our son was sick last evening and through the night--unable to keep any food down. This morning, while I was washing my hair at 6 am, a Doctor arrived to our apartment. He took Enji's temperature, examined his throat, pushed and poked around his abdomen (ruling out an appendicitis--Zorig's fear). This was what we'd call a "house call" in America--something that existed back in the 1700 and 1800s--but unheard of in these modern times. I asked Zorig how he got a doctor to come at 6 am. He said he called the "emergency number." This is the same number you'd call if you needed an ambulance. Apparently it can be used for house calls! Zorig called around 5:30 am; the doctor arrived shortly after 6.  Curious, I asked, "what does that cost?" The answer--nothing! As a Westerner, I was baffled by this reality. 

My guess is that this is a remnant of the socialist/communist time period in Mongolia (from the 1920s to 1990 when Russia withdrew). As an American, we are groomed to believe that you get what you pay for. Paying nothing for a doctor's opinion, in your home, at 6 am....is hard to comprehend. While I know there are many issues with Mongolian healthcare and I have numerous friends and colleagues that have shared horror stories with me, I am yet amazed by what happened. Enji was sick with a 24 hour bug and returned to school the next day.

This is just one example of a few I'd like to discuss. Before moving to Mongolia I had never lived abroad--within another culture/country/way of life.  While I had been deployed with the U.S. military, there was always our own healthcare options available. But here in Mongola, I am simply an expat living abroad and using the options available to me. 

My Chiropractor's sign

Here are some examples of what I have experienced (yes, some are a bit specific/personal). Keep in mind that I have NO health insurance (I know....OH THE HORROR...but honestly, I find it freeing!) and pay for everything out-of-pocket:

• I visited Intermed (hospital where many foreigners and well-off Mongolians seek treatment) for a pelvic exam (something women do periodically). I paid just $17.00 for the exam and a urine lab test.
  **NOTE: To schedule an exam or appointment of any sort--you pay 35,000 Tugrik. (When I first got here that equalled about $17.50, with the tugrik value dropping, it's now $14 or less).
• I visited a chiropractor (Mongolian man who trained in the U.S.) and paid $10 for a one-hour spine focused massage followed by an adjustment. Kicker--after four visits he told me that my "treatment was finished" and I didn't need to come anymore. Now WHAT chiropractor in the U.S. would ever say something like that? In the U.S. I paid $32.50 for ONLY an adjustment and that was IF I went every other week--aka--was on a plan[A sidenote here: In the U.S. I started going to a chiropractor when I was 35 years old. I continued to go on "maintenance" until I left. I went at least once or more often twice a month. AND I STILL HAD ISSUES!!! I lived in Mongolia for 16 months before I HAD to visit a chiropractor. I'm thinking the hard beds and more minimalist way of life are GOOD for the human body--all the cushy stuff we use in the U.S. to make our lives "nice"....might actually be doing us physical damage AND costing us MORE money.]
• I went to Intermed to see the dentist for a cleaning. I paid the 35,000 for my appointment and an additional 102,000 for the cleaning. Grand total: about $62. Oh.....and did I mention that the entire cleaning was completed with an Ultrasonic. While hand-held scalers (aka scrapers can be as effective--it takes WAY longer). You can read here about the Pros and Cons of both. In the US I paid for well over an hour of cleaning--most of it scraping--while here it was about 30 minutes and cost WAY less--while using an electronic tool. I don't know about you....but I prefer the Ultrasonic. In the U.S., hygienists would ONLY use the Ultrasonic for the backside of my bottom front teeth (where coffee stains build up). I prefer the service and approach I received here. Granted....I don't have dental insurance to "cover" my twice annual cleanings....but at $62, I'm okay with the option. In the U.S. that dental "EOB" would show that my "cleaning" costs well over $200-300, I suspect. And that's WITH the wonky math about being "in network" or "out of network" etc.
• I choose to go to a Laser Emneleg (hospital) to have some dark spots on my face "lasered." I paid $75 for two visits--the first to laser the spots (from forehead, down my face, and including my neck) and the second to do a skin peel and cooling milk mask. I wouldn't call myself an especially vain person--but I could NEVER afford such a treatment in the U.S. The doctor wanted to inject something to lighten a couple of spots and I declined. BUT....I may go back for that.   

Many of my colleagues have health insurance as they are "foreign hires" whereas I'm a "local hire." Many of them will NEVER reach their deductible ($200, I believe) to be able to use their insurance benefits. Granted...IF you have a serious incident--for example need to have your gall bladder removed--then YES, you would use your benefits. But for the average, every day kinds of issues--paying out of pocket is completely affordable. Almost CHEAP. 

Pic taken from my front-seat bus-ride home

I've heard that having a baby here costs about $1,000. If you want a completely private and pampered experience--at most $5,000. What does that cost in the U.S? (I have no idea!)

Now....I will add that for foreigners there can be a great distrust of some of the medical advice one receives here in Mongolia. Beliefs about health and wellness can be vastly different. As a general rule, I don't find that Mongolians have as much education as Americans do around the science behind sickness (and the diet is still lacking--not nearly enough vegetables and far too much wheat and oil); additionally, there is great value placed in superstition or what we might call old wives tales, as well as great stock in traditional medicine practices. I'm NOT against traditional medicine as a concept. However, I don't believe that spending a week to ten days in the hospital for "treatment" which includes a series of injections seems at all necessary. Especially when it's just scheduled like a week at the spa or resort. Nor do I think a sinus infection requires surgery--but have been told as much by my own husband. I believe that generally the body will heal itself with responsible self-care--extra sleep, lots of fluids, and increased Vitamin C (I do love the seabuckthorn juice here!). Most Mongolians I know seem to run off to the hospital at the first inkling of an illness. I ONLY go to the hospital if it's an emergency OR I've been fighting something for 10 days to two weeks. 

As Americans experience--a stay in the hospital is EXPENSIVE. Shoot....when I had my emergency gall bladder surgery in 2014 I spent a full week in the hospital and the surgery included an epidural for post-surgery pain management.  My entire bill was over $56,000!!!!! I paid my maximum out-of-pocket which was $6,000. Here in Mongolia, at a hospital that treats expats, an individual having a similar experience--six nights in the hospital and gall bladder removal--the bill just over 5.7M Tugrik which converts to about $2,380. 

All of these examples--but ESPECIALLY THIS LAST ONE--make me wonder, what in the hell are we paying for in America? Like really....what the heck is going on? Before I moved here MANY people asked me about health insurance. Would I have it? What was the coverage? Where would I get treated? Honestly, I don't miss a damn one of those EOB statements that showed me BULLSHIT math. I love that I can pay out-of-pocket and get decent care. Now I realize that if I were in a terrible accident, I might feel differently. I can't say I'm impressed with what I've seen here in the form of rehabilitation after major surgeries. And Mongolians that CAN go abroad (mostly Korea) for treatment, DO. That is telling. There is NO perfect system....but I can say that I don't miss the American system AT ALL. And I seriously wonder what we are all paying for (perhaps all the malpractice insurance that doctors have?). 

As the CDC reports here (from January), more than 750,000 American travel abroad for what is termed "medical tourism." More recently it was reported in The Fiscal Times that approximately 1.4M Americans will go abroad this year seeking medical treatment because it's TOO EXPENSIVE in their OWN country. The article says a handful of American insurance companies would rather pay travel and treatment expenses abroad, than within their own borders.

So really....what the heck is going on in America? I *cringe* at the thought of ever having to return to a healthcare system that seems SO outrageous. 

Choose Your Own Journey

Zorig and me at the ASU Gala

I love the work I do with teenagers--teaching them how to find, evaluate, and use information, sharing my passion for learning, hearing their fears and worries around paper writing and project construction as well as their hopes and dreams for the future. Yes, I love being a part of their becoming, so to speak. I also enjoy supporting fellow educators-- expanding their content assignments with research components, introducing new or better resources and/or online tools and applications, partnering with them to push our students to think critically and to cite their sources--making all of us ethical users of information. Yes, this whole Library and Information Science thing is exactly what I should be doing. And yet, as I left a colleague's classroom this past week, after giving demonstration and instruction around EBSCOHost databases, how to effectively search Google, and how to use EasyBib, I shook my head and smiled, all the while thinking to myself--"How in the world did I end up here?" 

You see, being a teacher OR a librarian was NEVER on my radar. Looking back at my High School yearbook, I proclaimed I wanted to go into International Business and Foreign Languages. Documents I completed while attending my Army Basic Training talk about wanting to pursue a degree in Criminal Justice. As I worked my way through my undergraduate degree, I had a variety of declared majors. I went from Undecided to Secondary Education-History to Business (WHAT?!?) and finally landed as an English major. 

One of the students in that colleague's classroom last week asked me how I chose my major. I tried to explain my circuitous route. The Secondary Ed History major was declared because I had some elective history courses (Colonial Africa, Latin American history) that I LOVED. So, I declared myself a history major. But then I was pushed to answer the question--WHAT JOB WOULD/COULD I get with that? Teaching seemed to be the ONLY option and far too limiting. 

With colleagues at the Gala

Then I thought only about jobs that might provide a good income. I moved from PA to ID and changed my major to Business. Then I took a required Math class and realized that while I was good with general math, even algebra or geometry, it really was NOT something I had a natural aptitude for and certainly NO passion for. At that juncture I finally had a heart-to-heart with myself. What was it that I LOVED TO DO? What was I passionate about? What did I like to learn about?

I loved to read. I loved to write. I loved to put the two together. Being an English Major became the obvious forerunner. As I discussed the change with people, that annoying question came back to the surface, "but what kind of job can you get with that as a major--besides teacher?" I didn't really have an answer. Being a teacher WAS still NOT something I considered. But I knew that if I was going to go into financial debt to pay for college--I wanted to enjoy the education I was getting. And it also became clear around this time that degrees weren't always tied to the work one does. My supervisor at the time (working at Hewlett Packard) was a personnel manager. His undergraduate degree was from Purdue in Architecture. So I got my BA in English and loved every minute of it. 

Then I floundered for a couple of years. I had a good paying job with solid benefits at Hewlett Packard and wasn't motivated to seek something other than. But one can only answer phones in a call center for so long. After dealing with a difficult customer one afternoon, I thought to myself, "I cannot do this for the rest of my life. I want work that means more. I want to make a difference." Long story short--I discovered the world of Library Science and had my Master's degree in about 20 months. I loved the course work. Initially I thought I'd be a public librarian. I loved my public library (PPLD of Colorado Springs)! 

At the Marine Ball

Then another "aha moment" hit me when I considered answering the question: "If you had all the money in the world, what you do?" My answer--I would be a perpetual college student--getting degree after degree. I love to learn. I love to open a brand new notebook, use colored pens, take notes, write papers, read. Yes, being a student is what I most loved being in the world. So I wondered--maybe if I was a librarian in a school--where learning was happening all around me--I could feed the student in me while also making a dependable income. I absolutely made the right choice! I love what I do--while teaching others (both students and adults) I learn so much myself. 

All this to say.....life is sometimes not what you expect or envision. Sometimes you don't know where you belong, until you pause, look around, and marvel at the synchronicity of your being in a time and place, doing what you're doing. This does make it challenging to give youth solid advice. Some may chart an immediate and direct course and never waver; others, like myself, may find themselves in and out of the fast lane and sometimes taking detours on dirt roads. Some may end up where there are no roads at all. No matter where you go, or how you get there.....the journey is your's to determine. My small offering of advice--YOU choose it (not anyone else!), feel free to make u-turns or change direction, and it's perfectly okay to stop and enjoy the scenery and people along the way. One never knows how a place, or person, or interaction may forever alter the path. That's the beauty of it all. And if you aren't happy--you have no one to hold responsible except yourself. Get moving and Journey on! 

It's the Freedom I Love Best

I hate to say it aloud...but winter has arrived to Ulaanbaatar. On the Celsius scale we have sunk into the negatives and I expect we'll be there until after Tsagaan Sar (end of February this next year). While it snowed first in September, we've had a number of dustings in October. Here's a snapshot of Enji and I on the morning of October 5th as we departed to catch our school bus (which picks up just 50 yards from our apartment door--so nice!) 

The days are getting shorter and we will soon leave for school in the dark and return just as night descends. While the darkness drives me to *want* to be inside, it doesn't much affect Mongolians. When I look out our kitchen window and down onto the pedestrian plaza underneath it, it is always busy with people--adults and children--going this way and that. They are bundled up in their knee length coats, scarves, and hats. There are yet peddlers on the street. Example--the selling of pine nuts. I can't imagine the work of harvesting these little nuggets, but they are for sale everywhere. 

Pine nuts for sale on the plaza

And as Zorig tells me, ALL Mongols eat these. I have tried them, and I like them, but I am not adept at splitting open the little shells. Even with lots of practice. Zorig will buy a a little plastic bag holding about 4-5 cups of them for about 5,000 MNT, or maybe a little more. That's hardly more than $2. I'm beginning to think he's correct--I've observed pedestrians chewing away at them, watched drivers and passengers in vehicles chuck the shells out their window, AND while riding the public bus I've found the sliding window sills insulated with the empty husks. Yep, samar (mongolian word for nuts) are a popular pass time in Mongolia.

I was all alone for a couple stops

This past week we had book club (we read Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children. I felt "meh" about the book, but thoroughly enjoyed our discussions!). This time last year I felt uncomfortable walking and riding the bus around at night. I wanted to get home asap. While the cold can drive a person to do that, I am a year older and specifically, a year older at living in Mongolia. It WAS cold on Thursday night when I left the Teacher Apartments at ASU and hoofed it to the bus stop. But there were also less people out and about making it feel uch later than it was (only 8:30 PM). I hailed the bus driver of a number 55 bus....I don't think he planned to stop. But he did a rolling-door-open for me and I hopped on. I was the only person on for most of the trip--which compelled me to take my phone out and snap pictures. I NEVER do that anymore because it can make one a target for pick-pockets. My phone is on silent and tucked away for any and all bus rides--well except this one. :) 

One other passenger, going over Peace Bridge

I opted to ride the 55 a little farther to see which route it took past the Nomin San (Central library) stop. This led to me walking farther than planned--but now I know. It was a cold night...but there were lots of people out and about. In fact, when I arrived to the pedestrian plaza near home, there were a number of teens skateboarding around the Beatles Statue. I checked the weather when I got inside--it was a 16 F outside. I tried to think--would an American teenager be skateboarding in sub-freezing weather? I want to say "no"....but I'm not sure. Teens can be unpredictable. However, I'd certainly say that Mongolian teens are acclimated for this weather. 

As I rode that bus and walked home in the cold night air, I felt free and elated. I tried to think about how that compared to life in America--to discern what I like about living here the most. And just a couple days before Enji said to me:  "I have a question for you. And be totally honest! Have you ever regretted moving here?" 

"No. Never," I said emphatically, and smiled. There was NO hesitation or pause. It is the truth.

And yet, I know life here can frustrate me. And sometimes I pretend to imagine what it would be like if I returned to live in the U.S. When I do that, I realize all the things I would miss about living abroad, living in Mongolia. I would miss:

• making way less but saving way more (incredible financial freedom--something I never experienced while living in the States); 
• the incredible freedom of using public transportation (I LOVE that I ride a public bus and do not have stress around driving. Not to mention the cost!); 
• the relative inexpensiveness of things: I cringe at the COST of everything in America; 
• my free and in-the-moment shifting calendar of plans. I do not miss my overbooked schedule (in the US I often knew what I was doing weeks and months ahead of time) and LOVE the spontaneity that IS a way of life in Mongolia; 
• the wide open expanses of land. Living in a country that is nearly fence-free does something to one's spirit that is difficult to put into words;
• living in a culture where i perceive there is far less judgement and criticism--I experience it very much as a live-and-let-live experience. Again....it's a different experience of FREEDOM. We talk a lot in the U.S. about how we are free country and we support many personal freedoms. However, I'd argue we cage and box ourselves in. I know freedom far more personally here.;
• the way children can be found anywhere and are allowed to just be. Children run around restaurants and play with other children; parents aren't always confining them and making them be still. And no one is bothered--there is a collective "watching" that takes place. Also, the way older children watch after and genuinely ENJOY being with younger children. Mongolia does this really well!;
• The directness of people saying what they want and need. Some perceive this as rude, I find it refreshing!!

There are, I'm sure, many other things. Us American Wives have been discussing this topic recently on our group page. With most raising children in mixed-culture homes there is always the question of how to hold traditions of both cultures. And how to do that when the can seem so very different from one another. I can see it in my discussions with Enji. He has only seen and known the Mongolian way of life; I try to share with him a Western approach. I am not trying to say one is better; but he will have some choices in his life and will perhaps want, in some cases, to make a more Western-like choice. That's the think with teens-becoming-adults--you can give them advice and suggestions and try to show and tell them what you think is best. But in the end, they are creating their own life and have to make their own path. 

I'll stop here with my musings. I have a weekend getaway to finish packing for. It will be my last trek outside the city for a number of months. I'll  leave you with a question to reflect on....or post your thoughts on: What do you love best about American culture or society (Or your home culture, if by chance you are not one my American friends or family members)?  If someone came to live in your country from somewhere else, what would you hope or wish for them to appreciate or feel the most?

Finding the Northwoods in Mongolia

Birch and Aspen in Mongolia

I spent my childhood and early youth in the Northwoods of Michigan--both the lower peninsula (home) and the upper peninsula (where we had a rustic cabin for deer season and holidays). The earth was often damp with precipitation and layers of decaying leaves created a soft cushion for one's feet. Those woods were a mix of deciduous and evergreen. While I've enjoyed discovering other biomes--from the desert of the Southwest to the steppe of Mongolia--the sounds and smells of the Northwoods will always be my first "nature home." Too many memories of building forts, hiking trails, playing on silty riverbanks, fishing for perch in lakes, wiggling toes in Sorel boots to stay warm while deer hunting, feeding chickadees from my hand, and climbing trees to have it be otherwise. 

The Secret History Camp

A girlfriend and I traveled last weekend to the Secret History Camp located just 70 miles north of UB to enjoy our brief fall before winter sets in. I went there a year ago for the first time with my fellow American Wives and knew I'd return. It's tucked into a mountain valley just a couple of kilometers off the paved road. My favorite feature is the trees-- birch and aspen that show the colors of fall. My friend being from Minnesota and I from Michigan, we both felt an overwhelming sense of home--of NOT being in Mongolia--as we hiked farther into the woods behind the Lodge. We traveled a newly constructed two track trail, breathing in the dark and organic smells of the land as it prepares to go dormant. It had rained the night before and there was yet moisture all around us--in the air, on the leaves, on our pant legs and hiking boots. It was divine.

Fall has always been my favorite time of year--partly because of the beautiful colors that descend with the cooler temps, but also because I am a forever student and September means back-to-school. I love the buying of new notebooks and pens, meeting new teachers and getting syllabi, learning what amazing things I'd be adding to my personal hard drive. Of course now I am one of the teachers--but you see, that's the thing about education. As teachers, we are also students. We learn so much from the students we teach AND as we prepare to teach them--looking for ways to show the relevance in our content. This fall I also opted to participate in an online 5 week Writing Boot Camp through Creative Nonfiction (at the suggestion of a stateside colleague). We just completed week three and it has been good to have outside motivation to write. While I do journal most every morning, that's to clear my mental and emotional fog away for the day's tasks that lie ahead. This has been writing with a different purpose--to finish a piece I intend to submit for publication. No spoilers here--stay tuned to hear about rejections or acceptance. 

It's October 2nd as I write this and Zorig and I celebrate our first year of marriage today. The year has gone fast. I'm thankful for so many things, so many people. I have meaningful work, good friends and colleagues, and my unexpected family in Zorig and Enkhjin. Our lives are always evolving and morphing. 

Phone number displayed in cars

I want to leave you with this interesting tidbit of life in Mongolia. Parking can be tough to find in Ulaanbaatar--a city that was built for 500,000 inhabitants and now has nearly three times that--1.5 million. Parking outside in winter can be tough on car engines with -40 temps at night. There isn't much street parking and parking garages, though they are starting to pop up in the city, are yet rate. People often double-park in parking lots, blocking people in. You can imagine the rage this would cause in America--but it's not the case here. Nearly every driver has their phone number posted in clear view in the front window of their vehicle. See the photo examples here--from plastic placards (in both side and front windows) to fancily carved wooden digits. While Americans are hugely private about protecting their contact information, Mongolians put them right out in the open. Are you parked in? Well then call the number in the window and the driver will come and let you out. Bonus--you can take his departed parking spot. 

Back Where I Belong

Communal work space and Student computers

Journaling at 6 am on September 16th, I could hear it. The steam radiator in the living room coming to life. Here in UB the heat in apartments is powered by steam which comes from a central facility. Those connections are shut down on May 15th and then turned back on September 15th. Yes, eight of the twelve months are deemed need-worthy of heat. This means that winter is coming. This is no longer my year of firsts. I'm a month into my second school year at ASU. The leaves are turning yellow and it was exactly 32 degrees (F) when we left to catch the school bus on Friday morning. Next weekend we will have our time change and "fall back" an hour. Yes, winter is coming. 

I'm not worried about the cold. I know I will wear my face mask when the pollution is bad, and will hopefully be better about working out during some hour of every day's many hours of darkness. The darkness was the hardest element for me last year. 

I have returned to the realm of secondary school this year. And I could not be happier! Frankly, I have NO IDEA how I survived my "year of small children." I have selective amnesia about the entire 36 weeks of it. Oh, I do miss their spontaneous hugs and eager-to-listen ears. I went over on Friday to get something from the elementary school and, as it was recess time, was nearly consumed in hugs from students of all ages. First grade, second grade, fourth grade. They remember me and ask why I left them. I explain I didn't leave ASU, just graduated up to the Secondary school. They accept this answer and then ask me if I know their brother, sister, aunt, uncle, or cousin that goes there. 

My "year of small children" was absolutely a year of growth and expansion. I wouldn't take it back or change it. It rounded out my resume and gave me invaluable experiences and great respect for elementary educators. But now I am back doing the work that I love. That turns me on. I'm not sure if it's about ASU specifically, or if it's about the way that international teachers operate, but I've had more lessons in the first three weeks of this school year, than I did in some whole school years during my first 10 years in education. I've partnered with classroom teachers (Science, English, ESL, and History) to teach about Plagiarism (what it is, why its important, and how to avoid it), about how to Evaluate (Online) Sources using the CRAAP Test (google it!), and about how to use the Big 6 Research Model. Next week I will teach about how to best integrate quotes into literary analysis pieces. Teachers seem genuinely happy to have me and I'm slowly beginning to know the students. 

The first couple of weeks were spent cleaning up the stacks and piles of books that seemed to have lost their home. I integrated the MS and HS fiction collections and shifted the Nonfiction to make more space and have it be more appealing. I work in a Learning Commons now--a new phrasing and perspective on a modern day library space. I have three rooms. Students and teachers enter into the group work/computer room. I have a projector mounted here and a whiteboard. There are six student computers on the back walls and four round tables where students can work or receive instruction. Then there is a small middle room where my desk is situated along with our reference collection. Finally, the third and largest room houses the Fiction, Nonfiction, and Mongolian book collections. There are tables and chairs to work at and a leather love-seat and chair in which to sit and read. Or scroll through Facebook on your phone, as I find most students doing. All three rooms have large windows that face east and look out past apartment buildings to a steppe mountaintop. I love the sunlight that floods in and where I felt strangely out of place last year, I feel completely at home now. 

Four of the five days this past week, I walked home from school. While the weather is yet nice, I'm determined to enjoy the sunlight and the exercise. It is about 3 miles from ASU to my apartment and generally takes about one hour. I cross a bridge over the Tuul River and am enjoying the shift from green to yellow of the leaves. Before long they will be brown and then gone. The water will diminish and eventually will freeze over. But we still have a week or two with temps into the 50s and 60s during daytime. I think. And hope. We have a fundraiser going at school titled, "Winter is Coming." I hear it's a Game of Thrones reference....but I don't watch that. Anyway, we have bet on what day will bring the first snow fall to our ASU campus. Last year it was around September 23 or 24. I bet on September 26 and October 6. Snow does fall here, but never very much and not so often. Not in UB anyway. Everyone loves it when it snows. Precipitation, in a city with air pollution, seems to have a way of cleaning the air. We had some drizzling rains this morning, but the sun is now out. Hope this post finds each of you enjoying the START of your fall. Winter in Mongolia begins in November. Just six weeks left of fall. 

Countryside Adventure

Summer Travelers

Enji and I departed Ulaanbaatar on Saturday, August 6th, for our summertime countryside adventure. Zorig delivered us and ALL our gear--7 pieces--to Dragon Center (bus terminal) where we caught the first bus of the day to Darkhan. My friend Michelle lives there with her husband and daughter and we enjoyed an afternoon and evening with them. Enji became acquainted with Terra, as well as her beastly companions, George and Basar. We had the best fried chicken I've had since arriving to Mongolia. YUM! In the evening we ran through the itinerary with Michelle's husband, Agii, who we had hired to be our driver. Then on Sunday, August 7th, we disembarked in the indestructible Russian van (and the vehicle proven it can go anywhere and everywhere in Mongolia) that would be our turtle-like home for the next week+. 

What follows is a rough itinerary of our travels:

The Man Stone

Sunday: Drove from Darkhan, through Erdenet (where we stocked up on supplies at their Costco-like Nomin and had lunch), then on to Moron (pronounced more like Murun) where we spent the night in a hotel. Enji and I made a short walk around the little town just as darkness descended.
Monday: We visited some Bronze Age deer stones about 20 km outside of Moron, and then drove on to Lake Khuvsgul. Wow!! It's SO beautiful. Agii got us settled in a Guest House, (simple ger with pit toilet access) about 50 yards from the lake. We had lunch, then went down to the lake. I swam in the clear blue waters that reminded me so much of the cool, clear lakes of my childhood and youth--Lake Michigan or Lake Huron. Enji waded some and we both skipped stones. 

Nice selfie smile and proof I was in the water

It was a little windy and there were smallish waves. Later on in the afternoon we walked along the lakeside and checked things out. I'll never tire of the sight of yaks--they are so much more interesting to look at than cows! They act a bit like dogs--playful and goofy--but look like buffalos with fluffy tails. Strange combination and fascinating to watch. Stay tuned for pictures of these fellas. 

Tuesday: With rain on the menu all day, we opted to journey on and a very hard day's drive it was. We left around 9:30 and drove well over 500 kilometers, much of it off-road, arriving that night after 11 pm to Terkhiin Tsagaan Nuur National Park. Agii was a trooper, seemingly finding a second and third wind to keep on driving--and got us settled into another "guest house" ger. We crashed with a lovely fire crackling away in our cozy stove.

View from the mountaintop

Wednesday: I got up, enjoyed coffee, and then hiked the mountain right behind our ger. OH MY....what a glorious view it had! It was a chilly and windy morning....but it did not diminish the feeling of closeness with the earth. I probably spent close to an hour up there, checking out the vegetation, watching birds, and even encountered a little black squirrel that reminded me of the Abert squirrel in Colorado. 

After a small breakfast (summer sausage heated in a pan, with mustard on bread), we packed up and Agii took us to the Khorgo Uul volcano. We hiked up to take a closer look at this most-recently erupting volcano in Mongolia (about 5,000 years ago). 

Nicely composed shot, Enji!

Then we drove on up the lakeside and got settled into the nicest ger camp of our trip--Ikh Khorgo. I highly recommend the place. We had a very nice ger and took turns enjoying a hot shower. Enji settled in to work on his art and I decided I wanted a hike before dinner.  I climbed the mountain behind our camp and quickly found myself caught in a brief but strong hail storm. I hid under my umbrella in the tree line. Some days the weather here reminds me so much of Colorado. We ate a hot meal in the camp's restaurant and enjoyed a relaxing evening in our ger--Enji drawing and coloring, me reading, music in the background and conversation sprinkled here and there.

Just before the hail rained down

Thursday: After breakfast and getting everything back in the van, Agii took us farther up the lakeside where he had coordinated horseback riding. Surprisingly, Enji had never been on a horse before. (I KNOW!!) While the sun was shining, the wind was also blowing and the temperature was lower than we would have liked. We only rode about 30 minutes....but it was a lovely ride. He got to experience a walk and then a trot.

Horseride!!

It was time to move on--(yes, I'm quite the slave driving itinerary-maker, as my family and friends know). This time to Tsetserleg, the capital of the Arkhangai aimag (province). This was a beautiful drive on paved roads with river canyons and mountain passes to keep our eyes and minds engaged. Just before we reached the village of about 15,000, Agii said something to Enji. Enji said, "Do you want to see a Big Rock?" I thought it must be more than a big rock....but I was up to see whatever there was to see....so I said, Heck Yeah! After a brief detour from the paved road, we arrived at a destination where there were a number of cars parked and small makeshift shops selling Mongolian food. Agii pointed off towards.....you guessed it, a BIG ROCK.

I don't know the whole story but there is apparently a legend or folktale about a strong man that carried the rock from afar and placed it here in a place where there are no other similar rocks around it. We walked around it and snapped some pictures. My only regret from the whole trip? I didn't ride one of these saddled yaks at the base of the Big Rock!

We arrived into Tsetserleg in the afternoon, had lunch, toured the aimag museum (housed in an old monastery) that is on a hill that overlooks the town. We got settled into the Naran hotel and then walked down into the village center to find the stores, hunting for some assorted items which we miraculously found (disposable razor for me, another canister of gas for our stove, and a different brand of milk tea packets for Enji). We had dinner next door at the tourist hub-- Fairfield Guesthouse & Bakery (and breakfast again there the next morning). 

Not quite to the source, but a very hot pipe!

Friday: We departed Tsetserleg, drove about two hours to Tsenkher Hot Springs where we enjoyed a relaxing dip. This was another first for Enji. We soaked, showered, then hiked up the path to see the source of the hot water. We also saw a little snake there--only my second one in all of Mongolia. 

Just after noon we were back on the road. We stopped and had lunch on a hilltop with a 360 view and then journeyed on to the Orkhon Waterfall. This was a site that Dad and I had wanted to see back in 2014. We tried to get our guide at the time to swap out Erdene Zuu Monastery for this majestic natural feature. He said, "oh no, very bad road and no time." Looking at the map then (or even now).....it didn't seem so far. But now that I've traveled the relatively short distance, I get it. It's ALL off road and the last bit of it is a minefield of lava rocks, some of them good sized. I didn't think to snap a picture as we creeped like an insect over them and then through the large mud and water puddles that surrounded them.  Yes, there is no way we could have seen the waterfall in just an afternoon. 

Getting down to the base of the Falls

Three hours after leaving the hot springs, we arrived to our destination. Enji and I hiked out to the falls--probably a 15 minute walk. We observed them from the top, then found the trail that wound down and around to the base of the falls. The river was high because of recent rains. We managed to see a couple of small fish and then returned to the top, where we toured strange displays of stuffed animals that a Mongolian man had set up. It included a wolf, fox, a couple different cats, a capercaillie, and strange assortments of horns and antlers, and carvings. 

Creepy display near the falls

We got settled in a ger camp for the night. I took a hike up into the hills while Enji worked on his art and fought off the ground squirrel that tried to steal our trash. We heated up our canned ham and enjoyed it with some instant ramen (I am certainly NO camp cook--that's Zorig's talent for sure). 

Saturday: We were packed up and ready to go again by 9:00. We traversed our way out over those same lava rock fields and on to Kharakhorin--the ancient, imperial city. We had some lunch, then toured Erdene Zuu Monastery and walked out to the ancient turtle stone. Before leaving town we visited the museum on the outskirts of town. So far it's the best curated museum I've seen in Mongolia. It's air conditioned, the displays take you from ancient to modern times, and the English displays offer generally good translations. It was only 4 pm when we finished. We asked Agii if there was someplace down the road we could stay. Yes--there was. He took us another 80 km to the Mongol Els--a long strip of sand dunes sandwiched between rocky smallish mountains and the flat steppe. Turns out, Enji had never before seen sand dunes either. 

We spent the night in a herding family's extra ger. No electricity. No stove. This was our barest of bones stay--but it was our final night and it ended up creating the perfect atmosphere for what our trip ended up facilitating--time and opportunity for Enji and I to become more deeply connected with one another. 

If you are still with me.....if you've read this far and scrolled through all these pictures.......then I want to tell you how special this nine day trip became. My goal was to show this young man parts of this beautiful country of his. And I did. We did see so many stunning places. But as we checked our way through my itinerary of sites, the trip shifted. This young man and I were finally, for the first time, in one another's physical space morning, noon, and night. We cooked and ate together, slept and walked together, and we talked and talked and talked some more. I was often in awe of his ability to ask questions and to express himself. He learned English by watching movies and playing video games for goodness sake!

You should know that, like his father, Enji is a night owl. I learned early that he "turns on" around 9 pm, becoming most talkative and inquisitive. This is about the time I want to shut down and turn off. I'm an early bird--up to see the sunrise (and yes, I will set my alarm for it), enjoy my coffee, maybe take a hike in the cool, crisp morning air. Enji slept until I told him to get up. He never complained about getting up, but he often climbed into the van and laid back down to sleep while we journeyed to the next point. I never wanted to sleep while driving--too much to see and watch. :)

The Thief!

Each day offered new opportunities to talk and get to know one another better. We talked about families--his and mine. We talked about school and college. We talked about Christmas plans. We talked about dreams and hopes. We talked about life in the USA and life in Mongolia. We talked about Ulaanbaatar. We talked about love and relationships. And we talked about us--how his father and I's love connection created an opportunity for the three of us to cobble together a blended family. I came with an open mind and heart, and he, just like his father, opened up his arms, his home, and his heart to me--this woman from a foreign land. A woman--I'll add--that he had no choice or word in having thrust into his life. What has transpired over the past year is beyond miraculous.

Plenty of Americans enter into blended families. People divorce and remarry. People have birth children, step children, adopted children, and there are full siblings, half siblings, and so many other titles for the members of the families that are created. We have heard the horror stories about children of previous relationships resisting, rejecting, even hating the new partners their parents connect with. Enji and I shared with one another that we wondered how it *could* have gone down for us. What if he hadn't spoken so much English? (I don't know.) What if he had been angry or mean towards me? (Again....I don't know.) I wondered if he would be jealous of me taking up his father's time. (Not that he's ever shown). Yes, we talked about all the "what ifs." But we had no concrete answers for any of them. And just as well, as none of them came to pass. 

Instead, we decided to be family. I have not given birth to a child, but this teenager has decided that for the here and now and the future ahead of us, I am mom. He asks me to see him as my son. And so we do this.  I will forever be grateful for this trip we took and how it created the space for us to speak freely with one another, to be vulnerable and candid. 

Sunday: On Sunday we awoke to a sun shining morning and left for our last full day of adventure. We drove on to Hustai National Park. We enjoyed a fulfilling buffet-style lunch at the ger camp situated at the entrance to the park. We walked through their information center and watched their movie. Then we collected a young intern guide and drove off in search of the Przewalski horse. The horses weren't anywhere to be seen from the road way, so our guide said we'd need to hike a mountain. I could tell that Enji was not keen on this idea, but he also knew I expected him to come. It was hot and dry out, the sun beating down on us. He and the guide talked as we climbed, all of us sipping H2O from our water bottles. I prayed ALL THE WAY up for there to be a group of horses over the summit. I would be SO disappointed if we hiked all that way and got no results. But in a park this size, there was no guarantee we'd find them. I can't tell you the relief I felt when I crested the top and immediately spotted a horse. Oh my--Enji was going to get to see them! I was a ways ahead of them....but soon they were there and saw what awaited us. A small group of horses--four adults and two darling, white foals. 

Here's looking at you!

We watched them and took our pictures. Then we descended the mountain. It was nice to finally have Enji along for one of the hikes. I love climbing the steppe here--no vista ever disappoints. As we walked down, I found myself feeling a bit sad. Our grand adventure was coming to a close. While I was very much looking forward to the shower ahead and to sleeping in my own bed, I was melancholy over leaving the countryside and going back to the hustle and bustle of UB. Work was just a week away--summer was quickly slipping away. 

I pushed the sadness out and held tight to the gifts of my summer vacation--time with my husband and father in South Africa, time with friends in UB, a sweet weekend of couple time with Zorig in Gunt, and finally, this countryside journey with minii huu (that's Mongolian for "my son"). Yes--the sweet two months of summer had not been wasted, but enjoyed and lived. 

And as we all know, when one adventure comes to an end, another is just ahead. Next up--I settle into my position at the secondary school and Enji begins his educational career at ASU. Yes, there's always more to share with you. Thanks for traveling with me--for reading my words, for staying in touch, and for caring. Hope you had a summer rich in fun and connections.