Swallowing the Gobi

After having spent the last three weeks in the giant steam-bath known as China, Ulaanbaatar's air is insanely dry. On the upside, this means that I can wear my hair down for the first time since leaving Toronto, and not worry about it expanding a zillion inches out, but on the downside, it means that my throat feels like its been rubbed with sand paper. This is actually an apt description, as I'm thinking that I've probably swallowed at least a couple of fist fulls of Gobi sand. My voice has probably deepened by an octave, which would be fantastic if I was looking for a career as a phone-sex operator (which is a conceivable backup if neither the foreign service nor watermelon farming work out), but in the mean time, it means waking up several times in the night because my throat has gotten SO DRY, or running to the washroom because of all the water that I've been drinking. My single biggest expense in Mongolia thus far? Bottled water. I've actually spent more on bottled water than on food and accommodations combined.

I feel like I should write something nice about Ulaanbaatar. Although I still stand by my statement about UB being the ugliest city on the planet, I have decided that there are some redeeming qualities. At the top of my list, UB actually has a fantastic cafe culture, which is something I've always felt is sorely lacking in Toronto. There are lots of Euro expats living in UB, which means that it's a fairly lucrative business to get into. Secondly, most public establishments that choose to play music tend to favour house, traditional Mongolian, afro-beat or jazz, which is definitely a significant step up from China's obsession with 90s pop and Christmas jazz. Third....well, I think two is actually pretty good... Anyhow, I'm done bashing UB, let the good times roll!