Brandon's a good sport, either that or a complete moron. Actually, it's perfectly possible to be both at the same time, so we'll include that option.
On the way up to Sukhbaatar, Daggi (the church member who went with us) and I were talking. His English was basic, and my Mongolian was basic, so we spent most of our time defining terms. Something like this:
-in yoovay?
-nar jaarison
-what English?
-sun set
And so on for several hours.
One of the phrases that I learned was "Champt nahoor herectayoo?" or "Do you need a husband?"
'Husband' was the only new word actually, but it proved to be a fun one. Daggi and I taught the phrase to Brandon, and he proceeded to directed it at random people, animals and inanimate objects. He even got some takers, some of whom weren't dogs!
We also taught him "Be champt harte" (I love you), as we as a dozen or so more useful words.
The train ride was about eight hours, and quite pleasant on the whole. It was really cheap too, only about $10 per person.
Sukhbaatar was a relatively small place. It has a population of about 30,000; small enough so that it isn't an interesting town and large enough so that the surrounding countryside has plenty of trash.
We took a taxi out of town to the Russian border. It was about 25 km away. The border appeared as a massive line of trees marking the place where there aren't any Mongolians grazing their cattle. The Russians had also made a point of building a large, white Catholic church just across the border to drive the point home. This was not an Asian country.
It also wasn't a country that liked Americans. We were told that we could approach the border if we paid $16 (or 200 rubles) each, but that we would have to wait for hell to freeze over before we could cross it. We were running low on cash and slightly ticked at Russia in general, so we settled for snapping pictures of the border guards just to be obnoxious.
The border guards informed us that we were being obnoxious, looked at our ID, dragged Daggi away for a good scolding, then told us to leave immediately. They did not, however, take our cameras and fine us as we were later told they sometimes do.
The crazy thing here is that there's absolutely nothing to see at the border except for a showy fence (which, while high and covered in barbed wire, only runs for a few hundred yards) some guard towers (all four of them) the spires of the Catholic church, and lots of trucks full of logs.
However, as Brandon repeatedly stated, the Russians know they must DEFEND THE MOTHERLAND!
Other than that not much happened. The trip was pleasant enough, and dirt cheap, but I think the next one we take will probably be to China, where they aren't quite so communist.
No, that wasn't a joke, it was a carefully thought out statement.
Daggi liked to have pictures of himself taken where he looked artistic, thoughtful and contemplative. I have about a dozen such pictures of him, so I thought I should post at least one.
This is about as close as we managed to go to Russia.
The dogs at the train station were really friendly. Maybe it's because I kept on feeding them... or something.
Me holding my ticket after not shaving for four days. I had a reeeeeeeeeeeally nice hot shower though.
No dotted line for you! This is still part of the post!
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