The Adventure of Flying Alone

It started all too early, as most international trips do.

Which is good, because I don’t feel like I’m actually going anywhere unless I’m sleep deprived, you know?

A small entourage was waiting at the Knoxville airport to see me off, which was wonderful and encouraging.

Molly, Jordan, Yours Truly, my Mimi, and mom behind the camera.

I got through security just in time to nab a last cinnamon dolce latte from Starbucks before heading from Knoxville to Chicago on a matchbox plane, accompanied by a book my friends promised would make me cry.

I’m over two-thirds of the way through and have yet to shed a tear. Oops.

(but that's because I made myself stop reading before I lost it in front of a bunch of strangers)

I had a minor freakout when I reached my gate at the Chicago airport.

Chinese people were everywhere (because the flight was to Beijing, duh) and I could understand bits and pieces of their conversations. I almost started bumping into people on purpose so that I could use my paltry Chinese skills to tell them I was sorry—and then remembered that Chinese people aren’t generally worried about people bumping into them.

The flight to Beijing, though…international flights alone are BORING. I am so very thankful to be in one piece and not to have had any problems, but hanging out in the dark with snoring Chinese people for 13 hours can get really long.

So I used that time to watch the One Direction movie without getting judged.

It might’ve made me giddy.

Or maybe that was the lack of sleep.

When I arrived in Beijing, I was incapable of producing emotion because I was so tired--but I kept thinking,

This is so WEIRD.

The last time I walked through the Beijing airport, only eight months ago, I was pretty certain it would be my last time, or at least that I wouldn’t see it again for a while.

HA HA HA.

I had to wait for my airline's booth to open up so I could get my boarding pass to Mongolia, and somehow managed to make friends with two middle-aged Mongolians who now live in America and had flown over in the same plane. This was our second conversation:

Mongolian dude: *points at my tennis shoes* “Not good.”

Me: “Yeah, I’ve got boots to change into…”

Mongolian lady: “Mongolia is very cold. Last July, American college student go up in the mountains and freeze to death.”

THANKS, I FEEL SO MUCH BETTER.

But then they stuck with me through security all the way to baggage claim at the end, which was a real answer to my prayers because, even after going through the Beijing airport FOUR times, I still think it can be a confusing mess. There also weren't many English speakers at the Mongolian airport and my new friends helped me not panic.

There were only three other foreigners on the plane to Ulaanbaatar and we were outnumbered by a herd of Mongolian middle schoolers who liked One Direction (if I'd been more coherent at the time, I may have tried to become friends). As we all stepped off the plane, THEY--those middle schoolers--were the ones moaning about how cold it was. 

WHAT? YOU LIVE HERE.

I'M IN TROUBLE.

But then I was met by some new teammates here, including my old teammate Bethany (who squealed and wouldn't let go of my hand) and Ann, who did the same program as I did a year ago, but in Ulaanbaatar. It was wonderful.

I stayed the night with another teammate here, Pam, who's been a great hostess. This won't be my final stop, but we're still not sure what my living situation will look like. My body woke up at 4 am screaming, "AWAAAAAKE!!!" 

It'll get the message soon enough. 

And this was the view this morning: 

MOUNTAINS. 

Today's goal: training and making myself eat at proper times.