It’s been just about two weeks since I returned from Mongolia, and a little more than that since I left the field, and I’ve returned to the swing of things in Pittsburgh pretty quickly. I’m working at a free health clinic, volunteering at a local hospital, and working on the analysis of plant samples that I collected in the field for a final paper due at the end of summer – my day-to-day life looks very different than it did last month.

I miss the flowers in Mongolia. I miss sitting in the kitchen tent with everyone, talking and enjoying everyone’s company. I miss my tent, weirdly – it was very cozy, despite being small. I’m struggling a little bit with the knowledge that I will likely never be able to return to the Tarvagatai Valley. The project that I went with is ending this year, after more than a decade of summer seasons. Getting to the valley is nearly impossible unless you’re driving with someone who knows exactly what they’re doing, and the ability to camp in the area is largely contingent on relationships with nearby families; I only had the ability to get and stay there because of the project’s connections. Since I’m not planning to pursue a career in Mongolian archeology, in all likelihood I will not have the opportunity to return there again. I’ve had incredible travel experiences before, but never one that was quite so literally “once-in-a-lifetime.” I feel incredibly grateful to have had the opportunity to travel and work there, and I’m trying to hold on as much as I can to everything that I learned.

In a strictly practical sense, I’m a much better camper than I was before I left – at that point, I’d never camped for longer than a couple nights before and had almost no idea what it would be like. I know now how to tighten the rainflies on my tent so that I don’t wake up with puddles of water that have dripped through the top. I am essentially immune to the annoyance of mosquito bites, although I will never be immune to those from horseflies (one part of Mongolia that I decidedly do not miss). I successfully washed my hair in a very cold river, and managed to keep myself (mostly) hydrated when I had to filter all of my own water. I’m much more confident in my wilderness skills, and honestly excited to see what other trips I might be able to take now that I’m more experienced.

From an academic standpoint, I’ve significantly expanded my knowledge of archeological data collection techniques and analysis in the field. Prior to my time in Mongolia, I had experience in pedestrian survey but not much else; now, I have experience with multiple kinds of geophysical survey, excavation, and flotation. I feel much more confident in my ability to participate in other archeological projects, and excited about what doors it might open up for me in the future.

I’m grateful to have had the opportunity to take this trip, and as I miss the fields, the flowers, getting covered in dirt during excavations, and standing in the river, I just keep reminding myself how happy I am that I even have those memories to miss.