Have made it to Mongolia. Made it, in fact, at precisely 6:00 a.m., Aeroflot having been logistically and technologically perfect. The connection was smooth, the flight left on time, flew smoothly, landed perfectly. Hospitalitywise the Russians are a little behind: a flight that lands at 6:00 a.m., after which you have to go through passport control, bag retrieval, and customs, really MUST serve coffee before it arrives.

Otherwise everything went well -- I was met at the airport and brought to the hotel, where my room wasn't ready, which surprised the driver but not me. Where can you expect to check into a clean room at 7:00? Just as well; I didn't want to nap then, that would have really messed me up. So I left my stuff and went for a walk.

Ulaan Baatar is a third world desert capital. None of the new development paves the sidewalks or adds storm drains, deals with the traffic or cuts the tangled grass that springs up after the rain they've recently had and dies back in dry seasons. For many reasons, having to do with both Mongolia's nomadic tradition and their years as a Soviet satellite, there doesn't seem to be any municipal sensibility, any idea of shared space requiring shared responsibility. It's either mine, or yours, or his, or no one's. Public space is no one's. This is very different from the western tradition, and I don't think I completely got it the first time here.

Okay, too jet lagged to say anything else coherent. Off to bed (wifi in lobby but not in rooms) and hoping I can blog at you again tomorrow. If not, I'll lay it on you when I'm back.