The other night just happened to be “Roast Lindsay” night and I have to admit I couldn’t stop laughing. Everyone here likes to poke fun at how committed I’ve been to this blog for three months among many other things, so Jesse decided to write a funny blog through my perspective. Just to give you some background, if you know me you know how I like to plan and be prepared. Also, after 20 years I still cannot figure out how to properly use chopsticks. So here it goes… enjoy everyone:
“The other day I went out and got my hoofs trimmed – LOL sorry that’s horse-speak for getting my nails polished up. You should see my nails! This lady went ham. (ham = hard as a motherfucker). It’s also the 52nd day in a row I’m wearing what my friends refer to as “ath-leisure.” Sorry I like to be comfortable every day of the week, a.k.a. the grey or black leggings with a collared zip-up and t-shirts!
We went to get ramen with my girls and Jesse. Three plates arrived, but not mine. That’s okay, I thought, but while watching my classmates eat, my apprehension grew. Did they forget my order? I scanned the room. The slack-faced indifference of my underpaid, part-time waitress employee heeded no indication of a forthcoming meal. I shifted in my seat, the heat of weather seeped through the open window into the room, inefficiently air-conditioned, as I would expect in a developing country like Mongolia.
Sweat ran down my armpits. I asked my friends, “did they forget about me?” If my food did not arrive within 2 minutes, I would not be able to finish eating by 12:30pm, which might prevent me from beginning my homework at 12:35 after walking to the café across the street. In turn, the delay would push back my scheduled walk home at 5pm, my visit to Metro Mall for cabbage at 5:35, and the scheduled FaceTime with first my mom, then my dad from 7:00 – 7:40, and 7:40 – 8:20pm, respectively. Such an event would drive my bedtime back two minutes, and the delay would carry over the next week. No doubt this would cause me to miss the 9am bus next Tuesday, which I would take to Terelj park for 2 hours of horse riding, beginning at 11am, where I might have a chance to see one of Mongolia’s three wild horses pretzelallski, the donkey-ass, and the African Zebra. Opportunity fading and anxiety compounding every second I waited, I needed the food now. The success of my plans demanded it. And let me tell you—this cold, calculated bitch wasn’t about to do anything differently than planned. A whirlwind of emotions tore through my mind as the food arrived—I had enough time to spare, but this Asian restaurant had provided me with traditional wooden sticks, called “chopsticks” in Mongolian. Those gosh darn chopsticks were not compatible with my hand, silly American hands. Who woulda guessed this little girl from Chicago would go to Mongolia and find herself needing use chopsticks? I thought it was all sporks and sticks out here. I’m sure not an expert with those things, I mean geez it’s not a horse bridle!!
I’m just a little girl from Chicago, one who loves horses, trying to adapt to the Asian style cuisine of the east on an extremely tight time frame which I created for myself. I mean truly, I am just a horse-loving girl from Chicago, Illinois, traveling the world and all the sudden I have two small, long wooden sticks in my hands? I mean really, I am just a horse-inclined female from the Midwest of the US (specifically Chicago, Illinois), needing to express my feelings about the fact that I am in Mongolia trying to manipulate two wooden sticks as to transfer food from the plate and into my lips! Fighting against the odds and adapting to the adversity brought by this meal was the absolute highlight of my trip. What an exciting and spontaneous trip”
So in a hilarious roundabout way, that is what has happened in the past few days. Yesterday we went over to our friend Ben’s house who is an intern at the US Embassy for dinner. His place was probably one of the fanciest in UB, you could look around the gated community and forget you’re in Mongolia all together. He lives near the amusement park where they have a roller coaster that hasn’t been checked or met the safety standards in 20 years, but guess what? That might not stop me… we will have to see how I am feeling next week when we go.
Before we went to Ben’s for dinner, we spent the day in Terelj National Park riding horses. People here are so relaxed about trail riding. As long as you are aware of random holes in the ground, they do not care how fast you go. At one point I found myself galloping next to a random Mongolian that I found on the trail, and the next moment I am walking my horse through a stream. I wish I had easy access to this in the states, I would be riding every day, especially considering the hour-long ride was less than $5. Like WHAT?! Anyone in the overpriced American horse world knows that $5 might grant you a solid 3 minutes under the careful supervision of a professional trainer. Helmets? What are those? I don’t think they exist here, at least not for casual riding… Although in the horse races, new legislation technically requires children to wear a flimsy bike helmet. Like I said before, there are NO rules in Mongolia.
Letters from UB 