This morning there was a fresh, bright blanket of snow covering the city. In the sunlight, it was beautiful. But the roads were another story: traffic was at a standstill.
Even Jiji, my neighbor and colleague, was unwilling to drive on a surface of sheer ice. So we took the bus together. It had been three years since she road a bus in the city, a rare event well worth documenting. I was happy to share my knowledge of the Ulaanbaatar bus system with a Mongolian girl.
But our ride was cut short. We were hardly moving because of the traffic, so we decided to walk. It felt good to be outside in the sun, breathing air that had been scrubbed clean by the snow, at the very edge of winter.