Getting to know Chinggis

Getting out of Ulaanbaatar is harder than I thought it would be. The infrastructure in Mongolia is not really very built up at this point. Exploring the country means being part of a tour or hiring a private driver. My funds don't allow for the VIP treatment, so I started looking for a tour that consisted of people that were not couples. I am the only person travelling solo at the hostel. Everyone else has either their own VIP with them or a few friends to share the quiet moments on the steppes. Adventureous as I am I began hitting up tour operators and guesthouses for a trek into the Gobi. It was looking bleak by around 1pm. Tour operators charged about a 1000 bucks a head for a two week tour and guesthouses did not have anyone else interested in tours. The owners at each of the guesthouses insisted on asking where I was from originally. Apparently I don't look Mogol enough to be Afghan but somehow I look Native American to them.

So, I took the long route back to my hostel and stopped by the Lenin statue. As I stood there framing the perfect shot I saw two guys walking towards me. UB is a pretty typical Soviet era city. The squares are huge and the streets long. I noticed these guys from pretty far away and it took them forever to get to where I was standing. I figured I'm on vacation. I got nothing but time. I took the picture and spent five minutes waiting for these two questionable characters to get to me. They were holding papers in their hands. They wanted help. With what? Well, they had applied for American visas and were going to be interviewed at the consulate next week. Basically they asked me to stand there and interview them so that they could practice for the real deal. After the interview I walked away, after a considerable distance I turned around and these guys were still standing where I left them. They saw me turn and waved. It was probably the most ridiculous wave of my life. I had to throw up my arm and pretend I was flagging down a helicopter, that's how far away they were.

Back at the hostel I looked for some cream to massage my shoulder (the one I used to wave at the two boys). Soon after I met the guy who was biking from Bejing to London my prayers were answered. There may be a Gobi trip after all for tomorrow. The meeting is tonight at 8. The biker may join if his bike will not be fixed in the next 7 days. Thankfully the drunk medical student from Cambridge will not be going to the Gobi desert.