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2007.01.25

Checking In

Well, I don't necessarily have anything in particular to write. Last night I learned how to make buuz. These are a kind of steamed dumpling. Usually they're made with mutton, but since we couldn't get any on short notice we used chicken. They were really good, especially with chili sauce on the side. I learned three different rolling styles from my friend Zula, so I now feel quite accomplished in the area of buuz-making.

The Mongolian holiday of Tsagaan Sar is quickly approaching. This actually means "white month," but it's usually celebrated for only three days. However, preparations probably do take a month. The average family makes 1500-2000 buuz for the celebration. When it's my family's turn I'll be sure to whip out my newly acquired skills.

Other than that this morning I attended a public hearing at the Ministry of Education, Culture and Science on the new draft law for culture. I'm going to write a story on it for the UB Post but I'm also generally interested, being the arts advocate that I am. It's really exciting being in a place where they're exploring in depth what kind of civil, democratic society they'd like to build. Many people are genuinely engaged on a variety of levels.

2007.01.15

The Weather Report, Revisited

Alas, I've been giving you false data. Blame the BBC. For some reason they can't accurately report the current temperature in Outer Mongolia.

I've been instructed to check my temps elsewhere; this evening, this is what I found:

-17º F / -27º C
Smoke

There's no need for me to elaborate.

Flowers of Death

I'm finally getting some tangible results for all the language study I've been doing. I have several poems at different stages of translation by poet and novelist G. Ayurzana. The one closest to finished is "Үхлийн Цэцэгс" (Ükhliing Tsetsegc), or "Flowers of Death." Ayur, short for Ayurzana, is a very interesting poet. His themes are very divergent from traditional Mongolian poems, which are centered in the landscape of Mongolia, the nation itself and its greatness. His recurring themes include death, desire, dreams and lost love. Suitable for winter, yes?

Ayur's poems continue to surprise me and deeply question some of my own cultural assumptions. They are also, as most Mongolian poems, rooted in a sense of place, which is one of the characteristics that first drew me to Mongolian poetry.

Үс сэрвэлзэх ч салхин үгүй талд
Үнэр, өнгөгүй түмэн цэцэг найгана.
Үл мэдэгхэн санаа алдахын цуурайг
Үүрдийн тайвшрал, мөнхийн зүүд залгана.

Excerpt from "Үхлийн Цэцэгс" by Г. Аюурзана

My rough translation thus far:

On a steppe without even a wind that would move a hair
Thousands of flowers without scent or color sway.
The smallest sigh's echo
Is followed by eternal calm and an infinite dream.

Next, I will give the entire translation of the poem to several native speakers for their review.

P.S. I won't be publishing any of the poems in their entirety here as I hope to publish them in literary magazines in the U.S. in the coming months. However, I will have audio of the Mongolian versions up soon. Don't forget to check back!

2007.01.12

The Weather Report

Sun and clear blue skies in Ulaanbaatar today.
Max Temp: -14° C (6° F); Min Temp: -33° C (-27° F)
The landscape is covered with a nice layer of powdery white snow. The chill in the air reminds me of growing up in Minnesota in the late 70s/early 80s when you could still get a couple feet of snow overnight and the windchill was regularly -30º F.

Incidentally, at these temps the roads in UB are covered with a thin sheet of ice. No amount of traffic can melt it. As if crossing the street wasn't enough of an adventure!

Winter among Mongolians is considered to begin at the Winter Solstice which occurs here on December 22. The season lasts for nine cycles of nine days. We are now midway through the third nine (гурван ёс / gurvan youc), and I'm trying to ignore the fact that there are six nines to go. Just as other cities are experiencing abnormally high temps--I heard it was 75 degrees in New York City last week--several Mongolian friends have explained to me that this weather is bad; it's too warm and there's not enough snow. I'm secretly relieved that we not experiencing the normal cold: -25º C (-13º F) during the day, -45º C (-49º F) at night. 

2007.01.10

Okay, I'm finally responding to the second half of Kathryn's questions (2006/10/30):

Yes, anyone can go to the opera... if they can afford it. It is indeed too expensive for average people to go regularly.

The main reason Dior was involved is because the director of the Opera and Ballet Theatre, the talented and lovely B. Sergelen (Segi), has been working very, very hard to make strategic partnerships in order to keep the theatre running. Segi told me that the daughter of someone she knows works for Dior and helped get the partnership. It's very expensive to put on as many shows as the theatre does (80 per season) and there is very little philanthropy in Mongolia.  I wrote a story about this for the UB Post.

Though Mongolia was a communist country until 1989 and hasn't had much time to develop classes, it is far from a "classless" society. And  from what I've read I don't know that even I'd agree that a communist society is classless but I'm open to hearing/learning from others. In Mongolia, you can see a difference between the rich and poor and I've heard that divide is unfortunately growing quickly. The financial situation here is quite dire. In addition, there are no social programs for the poor and disenfranchised and no personal responsibility among most well-to-do, or even middle-class, to do anything about it.

I've heard it explained like this: Mongolians have only just begun to have the opportunity to amass wealth. They aren't interested in giving it away. They base a lot of people's worth on what they own: if they have a car, the type of car they drive, the type of phone they have, and even their phone number! Sound familiar to anyone?

There is a city/country divide. People in rural areas have almost no access to services and, according to some, the education one receives there isn't as good. It is for this reason that so many people are leaving the countryside to live in or near the few proper cities that exist here (Ulaanbaatar, Erdenet, Darkhan, Choibalsan) causing vast environmental problems--Ulaanbaatar, "Red Hero", is better known as Utaanbaatar, "Smoky Hero", because of the thick smog--and major stresses on urban infrastructure.

I ask you, dear Reader, does a classless society exist? Is such a thing possible for humans in the face of the capitalist greed overwhelming the globe?

I read recently in Yes! Magazine's Winter 2007 Go Local issue an article about the alternative to capitalism and communism. It explained that right now people think the aforementioned systems are our only two choices, but that's not the case. The author, Ethan Miller, talked about creating a new definition of the economy: "We already inhabit different kinds of economic relationships. We have our own forms of wealth and value that are not defined by money. Economies already exist that place human and ecological relationships at the center, rather than competition and profit-making." This truly inpires me and gives me hope.

2007.01.04

Олон хабар нэгэндээ

This is pronounced "olong khavar negendee." It means "once in many springs" and is a Mongolian proverb that basically expresses that just because you may have done something safely many times doesn't mean that the next time won't be disastrous. My Mongolian teacher said this to me when I told him that some friends and I backpacked into the mountains south of Ulaanbaatar and camped one night in November. (We found a particularly beautiful spot where we watched the sunset while we sat next to the campfire and ate carbonera. Blissful.)

He said there are bears and wolves and thieves in the mountains. (Oh, my!) We didn't see any of these and only experienced the peace of the woods and got great views of the city (and it's pollution, sadly). I do, however, accept and understand his sentiment. Nevertheless, I simply choose to live my life without constant fear of my surroundings and what could happen. I probably wouldn't be in Mongolia if I lived my life according to this proverb. And, after all, there but for the grace of god, go I.