Black Markets and Safety Whistles

I'm getting ready for my first journey into the Mongolian wilderness. I had everything except a tent. I tried to purchase one from the local outback store (located right next to a bd's mongolian grill, by the by, the only american franchise to be successful in UB), but they were over 200 dollars. Renting one was equally expensive. Of course, my next plan is to build one.

I bought some thermal tarp (two pieces), some bungee cords, and some tent stakes. I would be protected from most of the rain this way, and I would only be spending about 30$. Holler. I informed my tour organizer of my clever plan when she told me that my invention wouldn't keep out dogs, livestock, bugs, or other crawly bitey things. Point taken. I found out on the street that there was a black market. My hostel (Konghor) has a huge map of the city, and the market is denoted by black permanent marker traced around the square.

So today, I did the two most exciting things I've done in Mongolia so far! First, I got on the bus (number 23). This is a feat in itself, as the bus does not actually stop at the premarked stop place. The bus stop also doesn't contain any maps or listings of what buses will be by. I used my guidebook's language section to get some information. When my bus stopped three lanes away from the curb, I braved the oncoming traffic with the rest of the mongolians. We rode for about 15 minutes before everyone on the bus decended. We were a little out of the city at this point, and I got off at a big tan brick building that looked like a military school. It seemed sad and unoccupied, but I couldn't stop for long because I had to follow the locals through windy alleyways. After a few minutes the people walking in the opposite direction from us were carrying goods: shoes, socks, gadgets, food, accessories, dog food, all in bulk, and all in huge cheap plastic bags. We were getting close. I heard there were many theifs in the market (my hostel bunk mate got his pocket slashed in the market the previous day - something that happens quite frequently). We soon reached a hole in a big cement wall. On the other side there were lots of people gathered around white blankets with objects on them: screws and flashlights and shoes of every shape and variety. The interesting thing was that all of the products were second and even third hand. I saw a pair of shoes for sale that looked like they had been worn for thousands of miles, by an obese person. I wonder how much the woman wanted for them. I was already impressed by the variety when I came across a big gateway. A woman was collecting money from people as they passed, so I decided to sneak by without paying. I didn't want to cheat anyone, but I had no idea what I was paying for. I soon found out.

I turned the corner and saw carts and tables and blankets and racks and people shopping as far as my eyes let me. Curious about where it went, and worried that a slow pace might attract attention, I kept walking. I walked for maybe 30 minutes before I realized that I was never going to get out. I was trapped in David Bowie's worst nightmare, a labryinth of consumer products. I had one goal - find a tent. Think, a needle in a field of scrap metal. After much walking and body language (probably around 1.5 hours) I was directed to sleeping bags, when I found my way to the ONE tent in the area. I was so excited to pick it up for only 23$, but I tried to bargain anyway. When he wouldn't accept my price, I walked away, expecting him to follow. No luck. By the time I turned around again... I was lost.

Don't worry. I find it again, and I buy a tent. Happy ending. On my way out of the market, (I have to ask about 20 people how to even get out) I bought some fruit. This also came in a plastic bag. A bag which conveniently broke off of my wrist while I was walking in front of a parade of microbuses. I proceeded to yelp as I slipped on a banana. I now understand the commercials. It is not the peel that provides the slip, it is the banana inside the peel that provides the lubrication between foot and ground. Needless to say, I was quite the center of attention.

Nothing was stolen from me on my trip, which I hear is quite lucky, but I did cover my bag in plastic and keep my money in a money pouch under my clothes. I also wore an emergency whistle around my wrist (just in case).

Tomorrow is the Nadaam festival. Opening ceremony starts at 9:30, and I can't bring myself to finish my homework!! I just want to breathe in the dusty air, put on one of those sports-bra/undie wrestling costumes and take unsuspecting foreigners out of commission as they walk down the street. Street Name: Fire.