This was my first first of three visits to Ulaan Baatar, a short afternoon and evening before taking off the next morning. The only real highlight was going to the "Black Market" - which is Mongolia's Costco. Everything you need (and I mean everything - you name it), and cheaper than the downtown stores. The big, and positive difference, is that the place is not run by a big outfit, but rather thousands of individuals selling their wares - modern clothes, traditional Mongolian clothes (I bought a shirt), ger supplies, horse supplies, fabrics in traditional and modern patterns, food - just to name a few. It's a Saturday Market at its biggest and best, and it's everyday. Easy shopping, but with some risks.

First there is the drive to the marketplace, and driving in Mongolia is not for the faint of heart. Crowded streets with people going fast and playing chicken when need be, and not giving the right of way to pedestrians, and honking just because they can. And when I went to put on a seatbelt, they looked at me like I was from another planet - truth is..... I suspect any of us who have traveled to developing countries have had this sort of experience, so I'll spare you the details. I will, however, dwell on the pedestrian isuue for a bit. Crossing the street requires a combination of speed, alertness, and a willingness not to look back - literally. The way to do it is to find that little hole in the traffic and venture (read walk fast or run) into the middle of the road, whereby you wait for the next opening in the traffic to finish the job. And the advise I got from the locals was once you are in the middle of the street, don't look back, becasue the cars going past behind you are RIGHT behind you. And forget crosswalks, they are really just the sides of the Ulaan Baatar street bowling alley. The harsh reality is that it's very dangerous, and I saw a kid (13 or so) lying in the street having been hit, with a couple of people trying to help him and cars still wizzing by on both sides. And to give a sense of the free-for-all of driving there, on the last night there, I saw (and dodged) cars (many of them) driving down the sidewalk to break out of the after-work rush hour.

Then there are the pick-pockets that are prevelant at the market. Apparently the stealing kind are not just limiting themselves to the market, as one of the women on my first trip - Valeria - got mugged in broad daylight in Sukbaatar Square - the big square in the center of town (Ulaan Baatar's version of Tiananmen Square, but without quite as much fanfare - see photo). She squeezed out of a full head hold put on her by one of four guys who more or less circled her as she walked through the square - ended up with a black eye of sorts and a bruised nose. Meanwhile, I had been warned about the pickpockets by a friend in Bozeman who had been there in July. And sure enough, one fella in the group of eight of us got "padded" three times during our two hour stay there. He was a big dude who intentionally didn't have any money in his pockets, so no harm done - just a good story. If they came after me, I never knew it. I did buy a rug there, along with the shirt, and look forward to displaying it in my house sometime next year (my friend Rich is bringing it home for me).

The folks of Ulaan Baatar seem to be caught in a post-Soviet, emerging capitalism, developing country swirl, where there is little infrastructure, not much (if any) faith in government, and a keen interest or drive to partake in some of the goods and styles arriving by train, plane and television from afar. Clothing styles are very western, some being down right chic, and electronics (cell phones, CD players, DVDs, etc.) are all the rage. And the architecture is much the same, with old, rundown, paint peeling soviet-built buildings next to new fancy office buildings with big panes of tinted glass and the like. Ulaan Baatar is definately changing, both for better and for the worse. My friend Rich told me that acres of park space has been lost to new buildings in the last few years, and the traffic for one is much worse - but what I got from the limited conversations I had with locals is they are psyched.