This summer has flown by. I'm finally back home in Arkhangai, and I don't plan to leave for awhile. It was really nice getting to travel so much the past couple months, I got to see Lake Hovsgul and the Gobi desert, but it was also pretty exhausting. My family was here at the beginning of August. It was really interesting to watch them come to appreciate what it's really like here. I thought I had described how bad the roads are, how things are never planned and how unbelievably long it takes to get places... but it would appear you have to experience it for yourself to really understand.
The trip I planned for my parents was pretty brutal, we only had 5 days to see the Gobi and Tsetserleg. Most volunteers who have people visit give them a day or two in UB to settle in, but we left for the Gobi the morning after they arrived. On the first day we drove all the way to Dalanzadgad, the aimag center of Omnogov (South Gobi). We were on paved road for about an hour, and then the rest of the 13 hour trip was dirt/rock/sand road. We arrived in Dalanzadgad at about midnight, but we could see the lights from the town for almost 2 hours before we actually got there. It was torture, we were all going a little crazy by that point. I didn't have a reservation anywhere, or really have any idea where we would stay that night. I just knew we would find a ger camp, there are several of them in the area. That's just the way things are done in Mongolia. My mom had a little freak out about that, understandably. But, after a ridiculous conversation with the receptionist at a hotel, we found a ger camp. The owner even made us some really delicious buuz, even though it was almost 1:00am.
The next morning we continued on to see the "glacier." The "glacier" is actually a small stream in a deep gorge that freezes so thick in the winter that it stays frozen all summer long. We rode camels part of the way into the gorge, and then walked the rest. It was a really beautiful place, the geology in the Gobi is incredible. The "glacier" was more of an ice cube by that time, it has been a very rainy summer, which washes away a lot of the ice. But it was still pretty incredible to see an ice cube in the Gobi desert in August. After the ice cube we drove to the Khonger Els, the giant sand dunes. We stayed at a really nice ger camp at the foot of the dunes. It was really incredibly hot. There was a constant wind that felt like it just sucked all the water right out of you. Even at 10 pm it was still unbelievably hot. My parents were hoping for air conditioning in the ger, which I said was impossible and they would never find that. Except, of course, the next night we stayed at a ger camp in Kharkhorin that actually did have air conditioning IN the gers. It was mind-blowing. Of course it was kind of cold that night, and we didn't need it. Too bad they didn't have that in the Gobi.
The last night my parents were here we stayed in Tsetserleg. My work had a horhog for us, which was really fun. My family also got to meet Sophie and see my apartment. Sophie was so excited that I was home, and I think she felt a bit betrayed when I left again the next day. It was interesting showing my parents my apartment, they were a little skeptical when we drove up to the building. It looks like a slum from the outside, but I think they felt a bit better when they saw my steel door and that the inside of my apartment isn't actually so bad.
I know that I have learned a lot of patience in the year that I have been here, but it really put it into perspective hearing my family asking "are we there yet?" and saying things like "it can not possibly take that long to go 200 km!" throughout our trip. And I guess I have forgotten how much I suffered the first few times I went on long trips in Mongolia.
My parents were also a little shocked by my newfound nonchalance about things like flies. One night we were eating dinner with our driver, and a fly landed on his hamburger (we were at the ger camp in Kharkhorin with AC in the gers, hamburgers are not normally found in the countryside). My sister scraped the fly off with a knife, because this was a very determined fly and would not be scared away by the wave of a hand. The driver then used the knife to cut his hamburger, and my Mom didn't think that was such a good idea. Such is life in Mongolia. Flies are everywhere, and you can almost guarantee they have touched your food at some point. And really, a fly never gave anyone giardia, so what's the big deal?
Seeing my Mom's surprise at my attitude about flies, I told the story of a volunteer who ate a piece of pizza off the ground this summer. When I was in Darkhan helping with the CED training, Cady hosted a dinner for the CED trainees at her apartment. We made them pizza, stromboli, fruit salad and all kinds of other delicious delicacies. Some people were standing out on the balcony at one point, and someone dropped a piece of pizza (Cady lives on the 4th floor). It just so happened that a volunteer was walking by at that exact moment in search of a delguur which would ignore prohibition for foreigners. He picked the pizza up and ate it. My family thought that was hilarious. But really, it landed crust-side down, and who wouldn't eat a piece of pizza that feel at your feet from the sky??
After my parents left my sister stayed four more days. We mostly stayed in UB and did some souvenir shopping and tried to avoid the creepy guy staying at the guesthouse. We did go out to Hustai National Park for one night. Hustai is about 2 hours west of UB, and it is where the 200 wild Takhis (Prezwalski's Horse) live. On our way out there the car got stuck in some sand, but after about an hour of digging and pushing we were on our way again. That evening we drove to the valley where the Takhis live, and as the sun set we watched several herds come down off the mountains to drink. It was really cool, they are the only undomesticated horses left, and Mongolia is the only place where they live in the wild.
The next morning we went riding. Our horses were unbelievably short, even by Mongolian standards. And the saddles, though the ger camp claimed they were Russian, were not much more than a thin layer of leather over some 2x4s. We both got a bit bruised.
After Tori left, I went back up to Darkhan to see the new volunteers swear in. We now have 59 new PCVs in Mongolia, three of which are in Arkhangai. I have two site mates in Tsetserleg, and there is a new TEFL in Battsengal (and she rides horses, which is good for everyone). The new volunteers have completely changed the demographics of Arkhangai, while I used to be the only girl in the Aimag, now there are four. It's a nice change, and they smell a whole lot better.
It has already started to feel like fall/winter. I forgot how quickly the weather changes. There has already been snow in several places of Mongolia, and I have already had to break out my long underwear (in August!!). I'm hoping that this winter will be a bit more mild than last, I lived through one record-breakingly cold winter and have no desire to do so again.
Tuesday, August 26, 2008
Monday, July 28, 2008
Summer Escapades
The past month has been a full one, for me and for Mongolia. First we had a State of Emergency for flooding, several districts of UB had to be evacuated and many summer English camps were cancelled or evacuated due to the heavy rains. My apartment was without running water until the morning I left for Darkhan to help with PST (a total of 15 days!), though there was certainly no shortage of water outside. The whole country is beautiful lush green now because of all the rain, and all the animals are looking fat and happy.
I spent about a week in Darkhan helping with training for the new volunteers, and celebrating the 4th of July. On the 1st we had our second State of Emergency for the summer, declared to stop the rioting in UB. Mongolia had a parliamentary election and the preliminary results were announced on July 1st, with the Mongolian People's Revolutionary Party (MPRP) winning 46 of 76 seats. The Democratic Party and some of the other smaller parties claimed that the elections had been unfair, or counted wrong and organized a protest in Sukhbaatar Square, which turned in to a drunken, violent riot with 5 people killed and a bunch more injured seriously. They also torched the MPRP headquarter building and, sadly, looted and burned the National Art Gallery next door. Many of the rioters were drunk, and they also broke in to the Duty Free store in the MPRP building. The police used rubber bullets, tear gas and a water cannon to try to dissuade the rioters, but none of those things worked. Apparently the police didn't have nearly enough rubber bullets or riot gear, and the rioting lasted pretty late into the night. All that is left of the building is a burned shell. President Enkhbayar declared a four day State of Emergency, which included a ban on alcohol sales, a 10pm-8am curfew, a ban on public gatherings and only the National TV channel was allowed to broadcast. This was the first time anything like this has happened in Mongolia, and many Mongolians are really sad and disappointed in their fellow countrymen. There were many international observers of the voting, and all declared that they were free and fair. The State of Emergency was only in UB, but Darkhan followed suit and also declared a four day State of Emergency, which happened to coincide with the 4th of July. That was a bit disappointing, but luckily PCVs are resourceful as well as persuasive and managed to explain to a few delguur owners that it was a really important American holiday, and that we certainly weren't going to do any rioting.
After the 4th I went to Sukhbaatar with Cady to visit her host family. We spent the night at their house, and Cady, Eej and I drank some vodka and wine and had a dance party in the living room. It was really fun to see the host family again, and they were really glad to see us. The next day Sukhbaatar Naadam started, so I spent the whole day at the Naadam stadium watching wresting and archery. Another PCV was doing archery, and one of the trainees wrestled. I stayed in Selenge until the 16th, visiting friends and celebrating Naadam. Naadam was even more fun this year, I am armed with a greater appreciation of Mongolian wrestling, a stomach that can handle Naadam hoshur with ease, and the great patience to be able to sit and watch archery for hours upon hours. I have also refined my ability to take shots of vodka, a talent that it seems I am frequently called upon to practice.
I needed a few days to rest and recover after the week of Naadam festivities, and then took the night train to UB, in search of a tour group going to Lake Hovsgul to join. After a day of frustrating waiting and brief talks with some guesthouses, it seemed like it wasn't going to work out and we were going to have to suck it up and take the bus. But then, at the last minute, Doug and I joined a group of 4 Polish and a French guy. We piled in the porgon and off we went. Three days later we arrived in Khatgal (the soum on the shore of Lake Hovsgul). That trip was my first experience with Mongolian tourism. I am a little amazed that people actually take trips in Mongolia. I think it might have to do with the fact that, until you experience travel here, you have no idea what you are getting yourself into (but for those who are not faint-of-heart, you should definitely come! It is a beautiful country and there is nowhere else like it in the world). Don't get me wrong, to me it felt like luxury. We had our own car, we could stop when we wanted, and no babies were throwing up on us. But three days of off-roading in a Russian vehicle tends to be a bit tough on one's bones and muscles. It was well worth it though, and we all became quick friends and spent a good portion of the time laughing.
Once we made it to Khatgal we celebrated in the only appropriate way. The next day we set off on a two-day, one-night horse trek along the lake. It was the first time I have camped since I came to Mongolia, and it was beautiful. Lake Hovsgul is crystal clear and surrounded by wooded mountains. We rode through the woods along the lake for about 5 hours, after which both the horses and we were exhausted. We stopped for the night in a beautiful meadow right beside the lake, and even though we could see storm clouds rolling in we all decided we had to "swim" in the lake.
Several Mongolians have told me that Lake Hovsgul stays so cold, even in the summer, that if you swim out into the middle you will probably drown. I never believed that, but after the 3.5 seconds I spent in the lake I am a believer. It was COLD. All I could manage was a quick dive under water and then a hasty retreat to the shore. We enjoyed the rest of the evening by a roaring fire, and rode back to Khatgal the next day.
We decided to stay one more day at the lake, and 5 of us went in search of some kayaks that were rumored to be around. We found the ger camp, and managed to talk them down from $20/hour to 20,000T for the day. They only had two kayaks, and we were five, but they threw in an inflatable dingy for free, because "they don't like it and never use it." We quickly figured out why they didn't like it, and ended up having to tie it to one of the kayaks and pull it with us. We rowed out into the lake for about two hours, against the wind the whole time but consoling ourselves with the thought that the way home would be super easy with the wind at our backs. We stopped on the shore for awhile, and the next thing we knew we were watching a huge rainstorm sweep down the mountains over Khatgal, coming right for us. We decided to make a run for it, and got back in our kayaks and started paddling like crazy. About 2 minutes in we started to feel the first drops, and then the sky opened up. It was raining so hard we could hardly see where we were going, and we were a little worried when we started to see some flashes of lighting off in the distance but it ended up being quite an adventure. We all returned to the ger camp soaking wet, looking like drowned rats. They kindly gave us some hot tea and then we went back to our ger camp and put on some dry clothes and started a fire in the ger.
Doug and I were really lucky, and managed to catch a ride back to UB with two other American girls in a Russian jeep. The driver had lost his tour group, they decided they wanted to stay in Hovsgul longer instead of doing the 10 day tour they had planned, so he was going straight back to UB. It only took us two days to get back to the city, but it was pretty rough. Russian jeeps really beat you up, and the road we took was a really hard one.
I have been in UB for the past week working at Mercy Corps. I've been interviewing tour companies for a project I'm working on. My parents and sister arrive on Saturday night, which I am really excited about. We will go to the Gobi for a few days, and then to Arkhangai for one night. It will be nice to be back in Tsetserleg, even if for a day. I have been away for a long time this summer. I am excited to see Sophie, I have been told that she isn't eating very well and searches the faces of all the foreigners looking for me. Poor Sophie.
I spent about a week in Darkhan helping with training for the new volunteers, and celebrating the 4th of July. On the 1st we had our second State of Emergency for the summer, declared to stop the rioting in UB. Mongolia had a parliamentary election and the preliminary results were announced on July 1st, with the Mongolian People's Revolutionary Party (MPRP) winning 46 of 76 seats. The Democratic Party and some of the other smaller parties claimed that the elections had been unfair, or counted wrong and organized a protest in Sukhbaatar Square, which turned in to a drunken, violent riot with 5 people killed and a bunch more injured seriously. They also torched the MPRP headquarter building and, sadly, looted and burned the National Art Gallery next door. Many of the rioters were drunk, and they also broke in to the Duty Free store in the MPRP building. The police used rubber bullets, tear gas and a water cannon to try to dissuade the rioters, but none of those things worked. Apparently the police didn't have nearly enough rubber bullets or riot gear, and the rioting lasted pretty late into the night. All that is left of the building is a burned shell. President Enkhbayar declared a four day State of Emergency, which included a ban on alcohol sales, a 10pm-8am curfew, a ban on public gatherings and only the National TV channel was allowed to broadcast. This was the first time anything like this has happened in Mongolia, and many Mongolians are really sad and disappointed in their fellow countrymen. There were many international observers of the voting, and all declared that they were free and fair. The State of Emergency was only in UB, but Darkhan followed suit and also declared a four day State of Emergency, which happened to coincide with the 4th of July. That was a bit disappointing, but luckily PCVs are resourceful as well as persuasive and managed to explain to a few delguur owners that it was a really important American holiday, and that we certainly weren't going to do any rioting.
After the 4th I went to Sukhbaatar with Cady to visit her host family. We spent the night at their house, and Cady, Eej and I drank some vodka and wine and had a dance party in the living room. It was really fun to see the host family again, and they were really glad to see us. The next day Sukhbaatar Naadam started, so I spent the whole day at the Naadam stadium watching wresting and archery. Another PCV was doing archery, and one of the trainees wrestled. I stayed in Selenge until the 16th, visiting friends and celebrating Naadam. Naadam was even more fun this year, I am armed with a greater appreciation of Mongolian wrestling, a stomach that can handle Naadam hoshur with ease, and the great patience to be able to sit and watch archery for hours upon hours. I have also refined my ability to take shots of vodka, a talent that it seems I am frequently called upon to practice.
I needed a few days to rest and recover after the week of Naadam festivities, and then took the night train to UB, in search of a tour group going to Lake Hovsgul to join. After a day of frustrating waiting and brief talks with some guesthouses, it seemed like it wasn't going to work out and we were going to have to suck it up and take the bus. But then, at the last minute, Doug and I joined a group of 4 Polish and a French guy. We piled in the porgon and off we went. Three days later we arrived in Khatgal (the soum on the shore of Lake Hovsgul). That trip was my first experience with Mongolian tourism. I am a little amazed that people actually take trips in Mongolia. I think it might have to do with the fact that, until you experience travel here, you have no idea what you are getting yourself into (but for those who are not faint-of-heart, you should definitely come! It is a beautiful country and there is nowhere else like it in the world). Don't get me wrong, to me it felt like luxury. We had our own car, we could stop when we wanted, and no babies were throwing up on us. But three days of off-roading in a Russian vehicle tends to be a bit tough on one's bones and muscles. It was well worth it though, and we all became quick friends and spent a good portion of the time laughing.
Once we made it to Khatgal we celebrated in the only appropriate way. The next day we set off on a two-day, one-night horse trek along the lake. It was the first time I have camped since I came to Mongolia, and it was beautiful. Lake Hovsgul is crystal clear and surrounded by wooded mountains. We rode through the woods along the lake for about 5 hours, after which both the horses and we were exhausted. We stopped for the night in a beautiful meadow right beside the lake, and even though we could see storm clouds rolling in we all decided we had to "swim" in the lake.
Several Mongolians have told me that Lake Hovsgul stays so cold, even in the summer, that if you swim out into the middle you will probably drown. I never believed that, but after the 3.5 seconds I spent in the lake I am a believer. It was COLD. All I could manage was a quick dive under water and then a hasty retreat to the shore. We enjoyed the rest of the evening by a roaring fire, and rode back to Khatgal the next day.
We decided to stay one more day at the lake, and 5 of us went in search of some kayaks that were rumored to be around. We found the ger camp, and managed to talk them down from $20/hour to 20,000T for the day. They only had two kayaks, and we were five, but they threw in an inflatable dingy for free, because "they don't like it and never use it." We quickly figured out why they didn't like it, and ended up having to tie it to one of the kayaks and pull it with us. We rowed out into the lake for about two hours, against the wind the whole time but consoling ourselves with the thought that the way home would be super easy with the wind at our backs. We stopped on the shore for awhile, and the next thing we knew we were watching a huge rainstorm sweep down the mountains over Khatgal, coming right for us. We decided to make a run for it, and got back in our kayaks and started paddling like crazy. About 2 minutes in we started to feel the first drops, and then the sky opened up. It was raining so hard we could hardly see where we were going, and we were a little worried when we started to see some flashes of lighting off in the distance but it ended up being quite an adventure. We all returned to the ger camp soaking wet, looking like drowned rats. They kindly gave us some hot tea and then we went back to our ger camp and put on some dry clothes and started a fire in the ger.
Doug and I were really lucky, and managed to catch a ride back to UB with two other American girls in a Russian jeep. The driver had lost his tour group, they decided they wanted to stay in Hovsgul longer instead of doing the 10 day tour they had planned, so he was going straight back to UB. It only took us two days to get back to the city, but it was pretty rough. Russian jeeps really beat you up, and the road we took was a really hard one.
I have been in UB for the past week working at Mercy Corps. I've been interviewing tour companies for a project I'm working on. My parents and sister arrive on Saturday night, which I am really excited about. We will go to the Gobi for a few days, and then to Arkhangai for one night. It will be nice to be back in Tsetserleg, even if for a day. I have been away for a long time this summer. I am excited to see Sophie, I have been told that she isn't eating very well and searches the faces of all the foreigners looking for me. Poor Sophie.
Tuesday, June 10, 2008
The Hudoo Life
Last week I spent several days at a ger camp, Beaten Paths, in Battsengal. It is set up on the family's land, a few hundred feet away from the well (there are no rivers or water sources close enough for the animals) and consists of two tourist gers and the family ger. Beaten Paths is a Mercy Corps client, so I went out to give advice on how to improve and a basic accounting/bookkeeping training. Also to hang out with some other PCVs who happened to be there. We were the season's first "tourists," so it was a good chance for the family to figure out what they still needed to do to set up for the "Jinkin" tourists who will come later.
Spending more than 1-2 nights in a ger camp is quite rare, most tourists spend an average of 1 night in any given ger camp and then move on. And with good reason, there isn't a whole lot to do. But sometimes it's nice just to sit under a dirty tarp awning and watch the sheep, goats, horses and cows go by. Our proximity to the well meant that close to 1,000 animals came and went several times a day. We fought the baby cows for the integrity of our ger and outhouse (they thought the dirt pile by the outhouse was AWESOME), stared down goats and pondered the worth of "sheep language," which it turns out is seriously annoying (and, as everyone knows, sheep are stupid so probably not very worthwhile either). One morning we were sitting outside reading and looked up to find about 50 goats ten feet away from us, just staring. I guess we are interesting too.
Watching the various herds of horses was really interesting for me. Horses in America don't generally live in proper herds, but in Mongolia they do. A stallion has 7-8 mares with their foals and "daags" (2-year old horses, who are actually only one by conventional count but Mongolians consider them 2) following them around. There was one herd who's stallion looked just like Spirit Stallion of the Cimeron, and whenever they drank at the well he would stand back and keep an eye on everything, occasionally chasing away a goat.
The last day we were all there we drove to the river and had a sheep horhog (after having the sheep's innards for breakfast...) Then we spent the night in Rob's ger in the soum center and Tuul and I came back to Tsetserleg yesterday. As seems to happen whenever I go to the countryside, we came back to find that there will be no running water in town until the 20th. So much for that shower we were both really looking forward to. Living in an apartment without water is awful. The faucets and shower just sit there mocking me, and I am currently having a debate with myself between paying Fairfield to do some much-needed laundry (they have their own water system), or just being smelly for a few weeks. We will see which wins out.
Spending more than 1-2 nights in a ger camp is quite rare, most tourists spend an average of 1 night in any given ger camp and then move on. And with good reason, there isn't a whole lot to do. But sometimes it's nice just to sit under a dirty tarp awning and watch the sheep, goats, horses and cows go by. Our proximity to the well meant that close to 1,000 animals came and went several times a day. We fought the baby cows for the integrity of our ger and outhouse (they thought the dirt pile by the outhouse was AWESOME), stared down goats and pondered the worth of "sheep language," which it turns out is seriously annoying (and, as everyone knows, sheep are stupid so probably not very worthwhile either). One morning we were sitting outside reading and looked up to find about 50 goats ten feet away from us, just staring. I guess we are interesting too.
Watching the various herds of horses was really interesting for me. Horses in America don't generally live in proper herds, but in Mongolia they do. A stallion has 7-8 mares with their foals and "daags" (2-year old horses, who are actually only one by conventional count but Mongolians consider them 2) following them around. There was one herd who's stallion looked just like Spirit Stallion of the Cimeron, and whenever they drank at the well he would stand back and keep an eye on everything, occasionally chasing away a goat.
The last day we were all there we drove to the river and had a sheep horhog (after having the sheep's innards for breakfast...) Then we spent the night in Rob's ger in the soum center and Tuul and I came back to Tsetserleg yesterday. As seems to happen whenever I go to the countryside, we came back to find that there will be no running water in town until the 20th. So much for that shower we were both really looking forward to. Living in an apartment without water is awful. The faucets and shower just sit there mocking me, and I am currently having a debate with myself between paying Fairfield to do some much-needed laundry (they have their own water system), or just being smelly for a few weeks. We will see which wins out.
Tuesday, June 3, 2008
One Year!
It's official, I have been here a whole year now. It's weird to think that last year at this time I was afraid to even take a shower in the Darkhan Hotel because I was still used to American standards... So much for that. I recently had to move to a different apartment, and my new bathroom makes Darkhan hotel look almost nice. It's weird to think that now I am one of the "experienced" PCVs. The M19s arrived in Mongolia a couple days ago, so I am officially an "old" volunteer.
The past few weeks have been the busiest I have had since training last year. Full of travel to the countryside doing research for a Tourism Value Chain analysis I'm working on, hosting SIT study abroad students and moving. Today I'm headed out to Battsengal to spend several days at the ger camp out there helping out and teaching some basic accounting to the owner. This ger camp is one of my favorites, it was started last year with the help of the PCV in Battsengal, it is a Mercy Corps client, and it also happens to be where I go riding when I go to Battsengal, so I'm excited to help them out and hopefully get a lot of riding in this week! Next week I head to Bulgan soum to visit another ger camp, and then shortly after that up to Darkhan to help with training. Where does the time go?
The past few weeks have been the busiest I have had since training last year. Full of travel to the countryside doing research for a Tourism Value Chain analysis I'm working on, hosting SIT study abroad students and moving. Today I'm headed out to Battsengal to spend several days at the ger camp out there helping out and teaching some basic accounting to the owner. This ger camp is one of my favorites, it was started last year with the help of the PCV in Battsengal, it is a Mercy Corps client, and it also happens to be where I go riding when I go to Battsengal, so I'm excited to help them out and hopefully get a lot of riding in this week! Next week I head to Bulgan soum to visit another ger camp, and then shortly after that up to Darkhan to help with training. Where does the time go?
Friday, May 16, 2008
Normality
In a few short weeks I will have lived in Mongolia for one year. That fact blows my mind in so many ways. I have never been away from my family, my country and all that I hold to be “normal” for so long. Yet I find myself at a loss of what to write about Mongolia, and my experience here. It has all come to seem so normal. Mongolia is like nothing I had ever imagined, or experienced, or even imagined I would experience. Yet now it is normal. It is Spring. Everyone says Spring in Mongolia is rough. All I know is Spring in Missouri. The red buds blossom, April showers bring May flowers. But Spring in Mongolia is filled with dust storms, white-out blizzards that melt in two hours and dead animals.
A few weeks ago I went to UB for my annual Peace Corps physical. The bus ride there was more frustrating than most of my previous trips to UB. They are working on the road again, which doesn’t mean progress at this point. It means driving aimlessly across fields because there are piles of dirt and rocks blocking the road. And it means animal carcasses. Animals die in the Spring. This past winter was harder and colder than it has been in 10 years according to most Mongolians. I believe them. Walking the 5 minutes to work my eyelashes froze, and even though my desk was mere feet away from the wall with a radiator, my hands were frozen most of the day. Long underwear, which I have never worn in my life, was a necessity from October until mid-March.
My trip home from UB was even more interesting. When we stopped for lunch it was like a scene out of a Disney movie. A storm was coming through. We sat in the ger , waiting for our lunch of tsoy vin to be served, and kept hearing what sounded like an airplane. It turned out to be a thunderstorm. When I went outside to look, I could see darkness sweeping over the land. It was like something bad was about to happen. I watched the dust storm coming from the West, and the thunderclouds coming from the North. But no lightening. In Mongolia the sky is nearly endless, you can watch the clouds cast shadow over the Steppe. I watched “dustadoes” rise into the air. There isn’t enough moisture in Mongolia to create tornadoes, but cyclones of dust frequently rise a hundred feet into the air.
Somehow, though I have never lived through a Mongolian Spring, it doesn’t really shock me. Last week I went to Battsengal to ride horses. While I was in UB I met some PCVs who had just ended their service in Ukraine and were taking the Trans-Siberian to Beijing. They ended up coming out to Arkhangai for a few days to experience the Mongolian countryside, and, of course, I took them to Battsengal. During the two-hour ride out there we saw innumerable carcasses on the side of the road. Spring means dead animals, but also clean-white baby sheep and adorable baby horses. Somehow, after living here almost a year the carcasses didn’t even phase me. Maybe it’s the normality of seeing animal bones littered across fields, and even in the dirt streets of Tstetserleg. The last time I went to Battsengal the baby sheep were just starting to be born, and when we came back from our ride the family told us that an eagle had eaten one. We saw one of the kids of the herder family tear across the Steppe on his ever-ready Mongol horse to the sheep herd because there was an eagle circling.
Everyone who has heard anything about the “Mongol Hordes” knows how hardy Mongolian horses are. During the time of Chinggis Khan, they carried the army all the way to Vienna. But you can’t even begin to imagine it until you see almost skeletal horses during the Spring giving birth and nursing their foals, and surviving that. Nearly every horse, yak or cow I see has severely protruding hip-bones, and is clearly seriously mal-nourished. Yet these animals, at least most of them, manage to survive this hardship and go on to thrive once the grass is fully grown and the Mongolian Summer fully arrives. Only to do it all again the next year.
It makes you think about the Mongolian people. Like their animals (which outnumber them almost 40 to 1), Mongolians, for centuries, have survived this harsh climate and at one point had the largest empire ever known. This country is full of hardy animals and the resilient people who care for them.
These resilient people are trying to fight through a post-Soviet, high-inflation and corrupt economy to develop. The contrast between their mostly small community knowledge and lifestyle and their desire to be a democracy seems an almost impossible struggle. The national elections are coming up this year. And with the national elections comes a possible shift in the controlling Party. In America we are used to essential continuity, regardless of which party is in power. Our basic civil servants are not politically appointed, they keep and do their jobs through major shifts in the political atmosphere. In Mongolia that is not the case. A change in the controlling party means every civil servant loses their job, and is replaced by someone with the same political affiliation of the controlling party. How is anything to be done under such a system? School directors, School system methodologists, Park administrators, all the way down to the drivers hired to transport these employees of the State have almost no job security. Why should they work hard? Why should the seek promotion?
Despite this strange governmental system, many Mongolians are working hard to develop their country and try to gain transparency in their government. Many of the younger generation, who haven't grown up under communism, realize there is a lot of work to be done and want to be the ones to do it. Mongolians love their country, and are proud of their unique traditions and way of life. Many of the small-business owners I meet and work with through Mercy Corps are eager to learn what it takes to compete and keep their business going.
A few weeks ago I went to UB for my annual Peace Corps physical. The bus ride there was more frustrating than most of my previous trips to UB. They are working on the road again, which doesn’t mean progress at this point. It means driving aimlessly across fields because there are piles of dirt and rocks blocking the road. And it means animal carcasses. Animals die in the Spring. This past winter was harder and colder than it has been in 10 years according to most Mongolians. I believe them. Walking the 5 minutes to work my eyelashes froze, and even though my desk was mere feet away from the wall with a radiator, my hands were frozen most of the day. Long underwear, which I have never worn in my life, was a necessity from October until mid-March.
My trip home from UB was even more interesting. When we stopped for lunch it was like a scene out of a Disney movie. A storm was coming through. We sat in the ger , waiting for our lunch of tsoy vin to be served, and kept hearing what sounded like an airplane. It turned out to be a thunderstorm. When I went outside to look, I could see darkness sweeping over the land. It was like something bad was about to happen. I watched the dust storm coming from the West, and the thunderclouds coming from the North. But no lightening. In Mongolia the sky is nearly endless, you can watch the clouds cast shadow over the Steppe. I watched “dustadoes” rise into the air. There isn’t enough moisture in Mongolia to create tornadoes, but cyclones of dust frequently rise a hundred feet into the air.
Somehow, though I have never lived through a Mongolian Spring, it doesn’t really shock me. Last week I went to Battsengal to ride horses. While I was in UB I met some PCVs who had just ended their service in Ukraine and were taking the Trans-Siberian to Beijing. They ended up coming out to Arkhangai for a few days to experience the Mongolian countryside, and, of course, I took them to Battsengal. During the two-hour ride out there we saw innumerable carcasses on the side of the road. Spring means dead animals, but also clean-white baby sheep and adorable baby horses. Somehow, after living here almost a year the carcasses didn’t even phase me. Maybe it’s the normality of seeing animal bones littered across fields, and even in the dirt streets of Tstetserleg. The last time I went to Battsengal the baby sheep were just starting to be born, and when we came back from our ride the family told us that an eagle had eaten one. We saw one of the kids of the herder family tear across the Steppe on his ever-ready Mongol horse to the sheep herd because there was an eagle circling.
Everyone who has heard anything about the “Mongol Hordes” knows how hardy Mongolian horses are. During the time of Chinggis Khan, they carried the army all the way to Vienna. But you can’t even begin to imagine it until you see almost skeletal horses during the Spring giving birth and nursing their foals, and surviving that. Nearly every horse, yak or cow I see has severely protruding hip-bones, and is clearly seriously mal-nourished. Yet these animals, at least most of them, manage to survive this hardship and go on to thrive once the grass is fully grown and the Mongolian Summer fully arrives. Only to do it all again the next year.
It makes you think about the Mongolian people. Like their animals (which outnumber them almost 40 to 1), Mongolians, for centuries, have survived this harsh climate and at one point had the largest empire ever known. This country is full of hardy animals and the resilient people who care for them.
These resilient people are trying to fight through a post-Soviet, high-inflation and corrupt economy to develop. The contrast between their mostly small community knowledge and lifestyle and their desire to be a democracy seems an almost impossible struggle. The national elections are coming up this year. And with the national elections comes a possible shift in the controlling Party. In America we are used to essential continuity, regardless of which party is in power. Our basic civil servants are not politically appointed, they keep and do their jobs through major shifts in the political atmosphere. In Mongolia that is not the case. A change in the controlling party means every civil servant loses their job, and is replaced by someone with the same political affiliation of the controlling party. How is anything to be done under such a system? School directors, School system methodologists, Park administrators, all the way down to the drivers hired to transport these employees of the State have almost no job security. Why should they work hard? Why should the seek promotion?
Despite this strange governmental system, many Mongolians are working hard to develop their country and try to gain transparency in their government. Many of the younger generation, who haven't grown up under communism, realize there is a lot of work to be done and want to be the ones to do it. Mongolians love their country, and are proud of their unique traditions and way of life. Many of the small-business owners I meet and work with through Mercy Corps are eager to learn what it takes to compete and keep their business going.
Friday, April 18, 2008
Man's Best Friend
Today I watched two little boys kicking a puppy. That is not at all a strange occurrence. A few days ago I was playing with some stray puppies outside one of my friend's apartment building and a little boy, probably only 4 or 5 years old came out and started kicking them for no reason. Mongolians are strange about dogs. Mostly they are terrified of them. The same day I was playing with those puppies a group of little girls was giving me the "hello!" chorus, and started to come over to me. One of the puppies ran up to them wagging its tail and the little girls ran away screaming. There are lots of street dogs in Mongolia, (somehow the yearly mass-murder of the stray dogs doesn’t quite solve the problem) and if they go within 10 feet of someone the person will throw a rock or yell at them. Watching Sophie run around town is an interesting sight. She is one of the friendliest dogs I know, she is always wagging her tail and running up to people, whose response is inevitably to jump back with a terrified expression and yell. Or pick up a rock and throw it at her.
I admit that sometimes she can be a little startling, there have been a few times I’ve been walking back to my apartment when she is outside and she runs up behind me at top speed. But she really just wants to say “hi.” And she’s not enough of a Mongol dog to know that people are not her friends. It surprises me that Mongolians are so fearful and mean to dogs. Most people who live in hashaas have a dog, and their dog is a pretty important part of their home security. Hashaa dogs keep the drunk men away and won’t allow strangers to wander around your yard. And dogs are used to guard herds. But many Mongolians practically starve their hashaa dogs. I can’t count the times I have walked into a hashaa and seen a skeletal, mangy dog tied up to a short rope looking up at me with sad eyes. In my experience dogs are most loyal when you feed them and are nice to them. There are many Mongolians who understand that and care for their dogs. But there are many more that don’t. And it’s no wonder they are all scared of dogs. They throw rocks at them and kick them every chance they have. Even puppies that belong to someone generally wander around the streets to some degree, and they are at the mercy of every pack of little boys roaming around looking for something to pick on. Every time I see a herd of boys beating up a puppy I want to go and kick them. It seems that torturing small animals is not a sign of sociopathy in Mongolia.
I admit that sometimes she can be a little startling, there have been a few times I’ve been walking back to my apartment when she is outside and she runs up behind me at top speed. But she really just wants to say “hi.” And she’s not enough of a Mongol dog to know that people are not her friends. It surprises me that Mongolians are so fearful and mean to dogs. Most people who live in hashaas have a dog, and their dog is a pretty important part of their home security. Hashaa dogs keep the drunk men away and won’t allow strangers to wander around your yard. And dogs are used to guard herds. But many Mongolians practically starve their hashaa dogs. I can’t count the times I have walked into a hashaa and seen a skeletal, mangy dog tied up to a short rope looking up at me with sad eyes. In my experience dogs are most loyal when you feed them and are nice to them. There are many Mongolians who understand that and care for their dogs. But there are many more that don’t. And it’s no wonder they are all scared of dogs. They throw rocks at them and kick them every chance they have. Even puppies that belong to someone generally wander around the streets to some degree, and they are at the mercy of every pack of little boys roaming around looking for something to pick on. Every time I see a herd of boys beating up a puppy I want to go and kick them. It seems that torturing small animals is not a sign of sociopathy in Mongolia.
Monday, April 7, 2008
Love Each Other While Living, People
The following is a Mongolian poem written by O.Dashbalbar that my friend Tuul translated into English:
Love each other while living,
You need not be stingy with those things you hold dearest
Don’t hurt hearts with the spears of needless words
Don’t push one down into a dark hole.
Don’t laugh at the one who has fallen down sodden,
He might be your father, who knows!
If you’ve reached first the peak of fame
Open the gate of happiness for others
They should not forget your help!
Say the one nice word to the person
Who misses and needs it,
Days that are sunny outside and cold inside
Will be seen more than once on this earth.
The nice boy who fell in love with you,
Don’t hurt him with your hard words, girl!
Just love him back for loving you,
He might have loved another, prettier.
Our lives are the same
On our throats, words are knotted the same
On our cheeks, tears fall the same
On our ways, we cross the same paths
Without asking, wipe away a girl’s tear,
Raise up and calm a child stumbled,
Today you’re laughing and another is crying
But another day you’ll be sad and the other will be singing.
Because everybody passes through cradle and coffin
Just love each other, nothing else is needed!
In this wide world,
Humans need not be short on love.
Because I imagine happiness as a fire in the human soul
Because the golden sun bestows its rays upon us equally,
For me, being alive is to deliver my love to others
And I understand that happiness is to receive love from others.
Love each other while living, people!
Translated by S. Tuul
Love each other while living,
You need not be stingy with those things you hold dearest
Don’t hurt hearts with the spears of needless words
Don’t push one down into a dark hole.
Don’t laugh at the one who has fallen down sodden,
He might be your father, who knows!
If you’ve reached first the peak of fame
Open the gate of happiness for others
They should not forget your help!
Say the one nice word to the person
Who misses and needs it,
Days that are sunny outside and cold inside
Will be seen more than once on this earth.
The nice boy who fell in love with you,
Don’t hurt him with your hard words, girl!
Just love him back for loving you,
He might have loved another, prettier.
Our lives are the same
On our throats, words are knotted the same
On our cheeks, tears fall the same
On our ways, we cross the same paths
Without asking, wipe away a girl’s tear,
Raise up and calm a child stumbled,
Today you’re laughing and another is crying
But another day you’ll be sad and the other will be singing.
Because everybody passes through cradle and coffin
Just love each other, nothing else is needed!
In this wide world,
Humans need not be short on love.
Because I imagine happiness as a fire in the human soul
Because the golden sun bestows its rays upon us equally,
For me, being alive is to deliver my love to others
And I understand that happiness is to receive love from others.
Love each other while living, people!
Translated by S. Tuul
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