The whirlwind romance

You know that feeling when you fall in love and everything just seems brighter and sort of magical?

I had that feeling when I moved to Montreal in 2000. I fell in complete and utter love with the city.

When I first got there, I was sort of nervous. Things were big, unfamiliar and I felt really awkward, like everyone would think I was some big hick. But after a while, I realized that things were all right.

I wanted to get up early every day so I could go outside and see what was happening. I wanted to know everything about the city. I explored neighbourhoods, tried new food, danced at the jazz festival. I rode the subway and spoke French and English to complete strangers. I would look out the balcony and stare out at the city and feel a sense of utter bliss.

Everything was completely fascinating to me. I walked around in my sundresses, stuck my feet in the fountains, ate pear sherbet and drank wine in the parks. I didn't have a lot of friends, but part of me felt like I was high on something.

I could ignore its faults, and see all the beauty in its imperfections.

In many ways, Montreal was a great lover. It never cheated, or lied, and it was always there when I woke up in the morning. It didn't try to hide things from me. There was always something new to discover, something I hadn't noticed before.

I left it, but I'd like to go back. It's sort of like running into that old high school boyfriend and starting to chat. You realize that you'll always care about that person and there was always something magical about that time.

It's good at Millie's

One of the most well known expat restaurants in Ulaan Baatar is called Millie's. I don't know how old it is, but every expat goes there at some point. It's got big windows and comfy chairs and a bookshelf full of magazines. It also has REAL coffee (in other words, not instant coffee).

I probably go there about once a week, and just eat something good, talk to people and read.

Millie's is owned by a very cool lady named Millie. (You probably could have seen that coming) Millie is originally from Ethiopia, and then she moved to the States. She spends part of her time in Ulaan Baatar, part of her time in Berkeley, and part of her time in Africa, where her husband works. Her two grown up kids live in Berkley.

Millie is a deadly woman. She's tall and has freckles and an incredibly beautiful husky voice. She wears a lot of red, and a necklace with a lion's claw on it. When I had lunch there last week, and the creepy expat dude was talking to me, Millie was shooting me sympathetic and understanding glances from across the room. Last night at the British embassy, she was buying drinks for some of the Australian girls.

( you can skip this if you want, it's just about ethnicity as pictured on Asian tv )

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It's beautiful here today, so I went for a long walk out of the city up to Zaisan. Zaisan is a monument to honour Mongolians and Russians in the second world war (I think). Anyway, there were lots of people out today, and many of them were in happy playful moods. I say this because two different Mongolian men sprayed me with water pistols. But it was all in good fun.

I climbed part way up the mountain and then just lay on a bench and watched the horses on the hill. After a while, the herder came and drove them off. Herders here use these big sticks with whips attached to drive their animals. If you're ever in the countryside and see one of these sticks stuck in the ground, you're not supposed to go near because it means that there's some "hot loving" going on.

Further up the mountain, there were some goats, which a fat Mongolian man and I chased around. Finally we caught a baby goat so that a French tourist could have his picture taken while he was holding the goat.

The view from the top of the monument was amazing. There were paintings around the top of the monument which depicted Soviet and Mongolian cooperation in the war. (Probably lots of propaganda)

On the way down, I passed this guy who just started throat singing. (That's the deep Tibetan singing that is done in the throat.) When I looked over, he said, "Do you know this singing?"

I nodded and went over, and he proceeded to show me a variety of the tones he could do. The secret is to pull lots of into your stomach, and then focus it into different parts of the throat. If you direct the air into a lower region, you get a deeper sound. The singer told me to put my hand on his throat so that I could feel how he was vibrating the air and making the different sounds. All very cool. I noted the interesting contrast between the singer's ancient musical art, and his Adidas jumpsuit.