So this latest long hiatus hasn’t been because I’ve been gallivanting around the Mongolian countryside; it’s because I’ve been gallivanting around the American countryside. After my long flights from Mongolia to Los Angeles, I re-immersed myself pretty rapidly into American life, by seeing Hollywood at night and the Grand Canyon in the heat of the day, camping in the Colorado Rockies, driving through Vegas (just waving as we went past), and eventually ending up in my quiet little college town with a view of the California smog. In short, I’ve sort of been visiting America’s own sacred places.
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| An American Ovoo |
So, though I have about 10 leftover things I’d like to post about eventually, this travel narrative is officially closed.
One would think I would emerge from this American road trip with some brilliant insights about this American life, but I think I was too busy falling back in love with my all-time favorite country to come up with anything intellectual. I do, however want to say something not about Mongolia or America, but about how where we are and where we’ve been sort of defines how we think and behave. I’m taking a class on Jerusalem, and when asked on the first day to define what makes up a city, everyone jumped to relevant aspects of Jerusalem (religious sites, political boundaries, ownership). My mind, however, still at least a bit settled in UB, thought of infrastructure and water/energy sources (not so important to Jerusalem, but crucial to UB’s existence), I nearly said “ger districts” when trying to talk about poorer areas of cities, and when we started a discussion of how topography defines a city, I envisioned my quintessential city as reigned in by mountains and oriented by Sükhbaatar Square.
This mindset is already fading, but that country song seems to ring at least a little true… You can take the girl out of Ulaanbaatar, but you can’t take Ulaanbaatar out of the girl.
