Ain't No Party Like a Tourist Party

There's this man named Doug who comes to Ulaanbaatar every summer, often leading mission teams from his hometown. Four others joined him in having a medical clinic in the Gobi this past week, and they also encouraged and taught the local church there and baptized 16 believers. Gany knows Doug, so when she found out he was taking his team to a ger camp, she said, "Can Tricia and I come too?" No one can resist Gany, so yesterday, we met the team (plus two Mongolian translators) at a hotel and rode in a microbus a couple hours to Terelj.

It is an absolutely gorgeous place, complete with a giant rock shaped like a turtle. And we had a girl-ger! With beds and sheets and pillows and stuff! And, best of all, there were actual toilets that you could sit on. Although I did get stuck in one, had to throw my body against the door, and then wait for Gany to find me and pull while I pushed. But I digress.

We ate khuushur after arriving at the camp restaurant. We were going to go horseback riding after eating, but it was raining, so we waited for it to blow over. Not much later, I got on a Mongolian horse and rode through mountains and plains so awesomely it deserved to be in a movie. Best place to ride a horse ever. And we had total control over the horse, though we mosty stayed in a group. I tried to get used to trotting without screaming, and even learned to stand up while trotting so as not to jolt my brain out of place. However, I tried nothing faster than a trot, because one guy on the team did, and he fell off. Oops.

We rode up to a temple, but instead of climbing a bazillion steps, I joined Gany and our 9-year-old guide in hunting for baby strawberries in the woods. They were delicious, and when we met up with the team half an hour latre, Doug asked if we'd picked any for them. I said, "We were going to, but...I ate them." That was a lie. I didn't even think of anyone else.

After riding back to camp, we at dinner, then congregated in the girl ger to sing John Denver (is that his name? I don't even know) songs and a Mongolian praise song in Mongolian. Gany and Gana (the boy translator) said I have a very good accent. Gany's been praising my language skills all trip, which I've waived off as ridiculous. But that leads me to some thoughts about the team.

I learned that yes, I do kick butt at language compared to other foreigners. Some of the team claimed they were too old to learn a nerw language, so they didn't try. Some seemed to think it was a game, shouting the words they learned when even I could tell it was wildly mispronounced. But mostly, I rock because I actually attempt the phlegmy sounds. I don't get why others...don't? They're pretty important. So yeah, ego boost to me.

I was also grateful to be traveling alone, because I've gotten to have a more authentic experience, I think. The team has been staying in hotels and dining in restaurants, whereas I am solitary enough to rent a room in a family's apartment, and I have a Mongolian friend to try street-food with. The team's ger experience was a sparse, clean, tourist ger with a full bathroom. My ger experience was seven people on beds and on the floor, cooking and dressing and sleeping all at once, with the bathroom being....anywhere you wanted.

And I love that even though I obviously stand out physically, I do not think I scream "tourist" simply because my companions are always Mongolian. I absolutely hated walking around with five other Americans, some with backpacks and cameras slung around their necks, and those big hats only tourists wear to avoid the sun. I felt fake and separate from Mongolia, as well as a huge target for pickpockets.

Oh! And also! (so I have more thoughts about the team than I realized) they are the sort of Christians that I knew existed, but never quite saw in action. For so long. They are the people who say "hallelujah!" when they reach the top of a staircase and legit give credit to God for allowing us to illegally try on Hun outfits before we found out we weren't supposed to. I just...think "hallelujah" is more sacred than staircases? And that God is probably bigger than supporting petty crime?

However, they also prayed about everything, and while I found it odd when Doug stopped to pray for one team member's nausea to settle, it was a kind of oddness that I admired. I want to learn from their spiritual action but not their rampant spiritual language.

Interesting experience.