Back in UB

On the Saturday I rested, trying to slough off as much jet lag as possible and only the left the apartment twice to go to the outside toilet (a pit in the ground with pee iced-over wooden boards to stand on while crouching and doing the business, one patch of ice you definitely do not want to be slipping on). On the Sunday, I woke up early, but finally rose a few hours later. At 07.48 I went to the toilet and as I finished, at the last moment, I saw a squadron of geese flying over, five in total. I would have thought they would have gone south by now, but as revealed over the coming days this was an unseasonably mild winter, only reaching the depths at night - there isn't even that much snow. The squadron leader emitted a periodic 'honk-honk', and the flapping of wings had the sound of a bicycle trundling through what snow there was, so I thought at first that it was man tooting his bike horn as he cycled past. Later, I found it was pipsqueak dog next door doing that. All the same, I've seen crows before and heard their distinctive cackle in a Mongolian winter but geese are new to me and were even more strange in the early morning twilight.
In the afternoon, Altaa and I ventured into town. The terrible mist lay like a shroud over the city centre in the distance and plunging into the polluted maelstrom, the smog clung to the lungs like toffee caught between the teeth.
The pollution varies in places. The fantastic blue sky near our home was torn by a the powdery white ribbons of jetliner exhaust as the aeroplanes arced throughed the endless sea.
We live to the east of the industrial district and the prevailing wind blows the unfiltered smoke west, but today it decided to prove the exception and the dust in the air was thicker than usual. The sun was blood red; it hung in the sky as a perfectly delineated orb, but not blinding until I was closer to the city centre. Last night, Altaa and I went to look for a more suitable apartment such as one with running water. She had found one with a fantastic bathroom and decent kitchen and lounge at a reasonable price, but the pollution was palpable, even inside and the streetlights outside shone dull like distant lighthouses. This was the deciding factor for me as, despite all the plus points, including the furniture thrown in as part of the rent deal, I could not relax in an apartment where I felt I was being slowly suffocated. UB is polluted everywhere, but some places are comprehensively worse than others.
As for work, I am the editor of the UB Post, the only privately owned English language newspaper in Mongolia. I am under no illusions. I got the job because I was the most realistic in respect of my wages (i.e. the cheapest) and really it is more of a sub-editor's position. We produced my first newspaper as editor last night and it is quite a fine feeling. I am the first in the office every morning and certainly I have more incentive to do so now I am earning my crust, rather than just being a volunteer. It happens that I am also the youngest employee, at 24, but I try not to show it.