Crossing the Dateline

We set off covered in prayers, humbled by the immensity of this thing we were doing.
Feelings of inadequacy and fear pricked around my consciousness, threatening to undermine the courage given me through your prayers.
But the Holy Spirit was, and is, there, allowing me to recognize those thoughts for what they really are: lies.
I'm learning that I don't have to have it all together to do what God wants me to. He'll do it, whether I'm ready or not.
Ollie Ollie oxen-free! Come find me!
Day 1: 12 hour flight to Beijing. All-night layover. This meant only one thing: EXPLORING! And sleeping... eventually.
We took the subway in to Tianamen Square. Bright lights lit up that giant portrait of Mao Tse-Tung, street vendors flew giant strings of hundreds of tiny kites into the air, stoic guards stood by straighter and stiller than I ever thought humanly possible, and I realized: Toto, we ain't in America anymore.
Even more adventurous: we swept in to a little café for dinner. Of course, the entire menu is in Chinese... so we all attempt to order by pointing at the pictures, guessing what might be in them. We ended up ordering a dish that included one of the coolest and strangest foods I've ever tried: wachao, or ash pepper. The Chinese had to invent a special word just to describe the kind of taste sensation you experience when you eat one of these. At first, you think it might be spicy, but your mouth actually goes cold and sort of numb, then, your mouth begins to vibrate. Not tingle, vibrate. So strange, but so yummy.
And this was only the layover to where we were actually headed: Ulaanbaatar, Mongolia.
Flying over Mongolia is probably one of the most beautiful sights you can see out of an airplane window. The hills are so incredibly green, and scattered throughout are little houses with brightly colored roofs. The city itself is peppered with mud puddles from the wet climate, and the brightly colored roofs intermingle with multiple construction projects and insane traffic jams... By insane, I don't mean massive... I mean that driving here is an insane affair. The only rule is that there are no rules. People create their own lanes out of the non existent shoulder or from the middle of the road... People sneak around the other cars with only inches to spare, signaling their presence by honking, not blinkers... And the potholes are so massive that driving down the highway feels like being on Indiana Jones at Disneyland.
Again, Toto, we ain't in America anymore.
Today, though, provided me with a very different challenge: teaching English as a foreign language for the first time. No instructions, just two partners, a classroom, and a vague idea that we were supposed to assess conversation skills. Allrighty then.
This, by the grace of God, turned out to be anything but a disaster. We asked various questions, asking for participation, getting more and more confident as time went on. We learned more about how Mongolians and others who live here live their lives, and what their dreams are.
I have great hope for the rest of the week.
After teaching in the morning, we have classes in the afternoon. We're getting background on the history, language, and folklore of Mongolia. Cyrillic makes my head hurt! But I'm still a fan of these classes (Mongols! Yay! :) )

Thank you all for your prayers and love. I miss you all, and wish you could all be here with me!
I'll keep telling you stories when I can, kay? :)

Your friendly neighborhood aethernaut,
~M~