Today marked the beginning of the Nadaam Festival here in UB. There was a great deal of pomp and pageantry at the Stadium. We, however, proved to be bad tourists today. Content to rest up after the exhausting four days in the Gobi, we watched parts of the ceremonies and the wrestling on the large TVs in the Central Post Office where we sent a few postcards and called some of the larger hotels searching, in vain, for an indoor fitness center. As it turned out we were able to run outside today. On our way towards the stadium and the Soviet friendship monument we happened upon a dirt/rock trail that weaved its way through an ugly industrial landscape and also went past a few suburban gers. We had an encounter with a couple of Mongolian children who were riding their bikes, an encounter that was entirely illustrative of what we've found to be the characteristic disposition of most Mongolians. The children greeted us demonstrating their basic competence in English grammar. They then curiously accompanied us for a section of our run. I asked one of the boys if he wanted to race. We did and he was eager to tell me that I lost. I, never being at a loss for a little competition, challenged him to a second round and redeemed myself. After we lost the trail going back onto the road they said good-bye and waved. In another instance with our driver in the Gobi he at one point asked to see our plane tickets and passports. Suspicious, S. and I looked at each other and reluctantly agreed. Our hesitation was soon eclipsed by his genuine show of sincere curiosity. He just wanted to see the various visa stamps and pictures. The cumulative effect of interactions like these have engendered in us a very real sense of relaxation and ease. We have not in anyway felt threatened or insecure in our interactions here.