Under Mongolian Blue Sky

Letter from Olgii

Hello, you. I'm now in Olgii city of Bayan-Olgii ("Rich-Cradle") province after much ado. It is the western most province of Mongolia and 90% Muslim Kazakh. Mongolian is their second language, so that puts us in the same boat. Being here is like being in a new country all over again. The people are lovely, but very surprised to see me here and alone.

Olgii is a small town replete with concrete, nestled among the Altai mountains and sprawling along the luscious Hovd river. I've come to collect poems, meet poets and to see the tallest mountain in Mongolia, the Altai's Tavan Bogd (Five Holy). Yesterday I met with the main Kazakh poet, also the director of the Bayan-Olgii branch of the Union of Mongolian Writers, R. Suragan, that I had meant to meet with in Bayan-Olgii and we had a good talk. He told me I must see Tavan Bogd and write poems while I'm there. Thus I leave for the mountain tomorrow after lunch with warm clothes, food, a national park permit and a border permit as the mountain lies on the borders of Mongolia, Russia and China.

I also realized, though I should have known before, that all the poems the poets here write are in the Kazakh language, one that I don't know. While I go to Tavan Bogd, Suragan is going to collect the poems that have been translated into Mongolian so I can read them. Then, I may translate two or three of the poems into English for him. I don't know how that will work since I'm translating from Mongolian and not the original language but I will do it because I've heard he's a really great poet and I'm interested in what he's writing.

Actually, today I found an anthology with three of his poems in it at the province library where I had to 1) pay 100 togrog per book just to look at them, 2) leave the library while the librarians went out to lunch, and 3) wait outside the library for 45 minutes when the librarians returned late from lunch. Suragan knows Mongolian very well and I hope he'll be able to comment on the quality of the Kazakh-to-Mongolian translations.

It's fantastic how everyone here knows the name of their country's poets and how they hold them in such esteem. I was in the middle of nowhere in the countryside of Bayan-Olgii and said I was going to meet Suragan and all the people knew who he is. Once I mention that I too am a poet, they softly exhale, "Oh," and look at me a little differently.

Now for the "much ado" and "the middle of nowhere in the countryside" to which referred earlier. Well, I had a new experience in Mongolia on my way to Olgii from Hovd: a car accident. At about 10 PM on Monday night the Russian jeep (a "жаран ес" for those of you who know what that is) I was riding in with one young Kazakh driver went off the road and landed upside down in a dry river bed. Actually we were about halfway down into the river bed when the car first stopped. I opened my door to try to get out at the driver's suggestion and then we flipped over. My door was open so I scuttled out quickly.

We both walked away physically unscathed. I felt strangely calm; however, the driver was freaking out because he was a student, only 22 year old, and it was his parent's jeep. Let's just say I could relate to what he was going through from past experience.

It was dark so I suggested we set up my tent, try to sleep and go look for help in the morning light. I hardly slept, but at some point Boldoo, the driver, went off to find help before I woke up. Thus when I awoke he was gone and I went about packing up the camp, taking pictures of the accident scene (which I'll post when I get back to UB) and eating some breakfast. Boldoo returned on a motorcycle with another Kazakh man and said more were coming.

Eventually about 12 more Kazakh men came, righted the jeep with another jeep and got it started again. Since the jeep I originally left Hovd in was now a mess (no windshield, no passenger side door, etc.) I rode with some other folks to their camp and Boldoo arranged for a couple of them to take me on to Olgii so he could return to his parent's home in Hovd.

The Kazakh people were very, very nice, especially when they found out what had happened, and had me drink a lot of Kazakh tea, eat homemade cheese and bread and hold their eagle. (Kazakhs are eagle hunters and are very proud of their birds.) After stopping at many, many homes along the way and after many, many bowls of tea, two Kazakh men of my age, though seeming much older, eventually ferried me to Olgii and helped me find a place to stay when we discovered that all the hotels were full.

Currently, I'm staying with a Kazakh family that is going to host me while I'm in Bayan-Olgii through the American Center for Mongolian Studies, and my work continues.

Sainshand Town

Last weekend I went to Sainshand/Сайншанд (which means "good pond"), a small town of around 50,000 people. It is the homeland of Mongolia's so-called greatest mystical poet, Danzanravjaa (1803-1856). My friend Allison and I took the train from UB. It was my first ever train ride and I thought it quite wonderful.

We arrived in Sainshand around 8 p.m. on Saturday and since it was dark we decided to stay in and read. I watched television as I always do at night in hotels. (Although I don't watch television at home, one of my guilty pleasures is to channel surf all night on hotel televisions. This usually occurs the first night I'm in the hotel; after that, I get bored with it. However, in general, Mongolian television is more interesting to me than television in the U.S. Last night I saw a cooking show on television. It was really great because it was so real. The cameras were just in some guy's apartment, not some glossy and sterile studio.)

Back to Danzanravjaa.

    Heaven is complete.
    Let's hold and enjoy eight magic feasts.
    When clouds appear and the time of rain comes,
    What is the difference between the altar and the door?
    When the activities cease and the time of death comes,
    What is the difference between old and young?

    When you plant a moiler tree,
    A snake and poison will come from the tree.
    When you make friends with a bad person,
    You will learn bad things from them.

    When you plant a spreading tree,
    From each branch the fruits will come.
    When you have friendship with a good person,
    Brightness and wisdom will appear.

    Even though there are many heavenly stars,
    The brightest ones are only one or two.
    Even though there are many earthly creatures,
    The wisest ones are only one or two.

    They say that cold weather brings a chilly wind,
    And that the ravine plant will revive
    When you are happy.
    Talk about unhappiness produces unhappiness.
    Zee zee hoo, zen vaiduu ze, (have mercy,) three saints.

    From Lama of the Gobi, Michael Cohn

This is "The Heavenly Sky," a song by Danzanravjaa, who is officially known as the Fifth Noyon Incarnate Lama of the Gobi Desert. He was a poet, writer, composer, educator, artist and founder of Mongolian theatre. The first two stanzas of the song were, as legend would tell us, composed by Danzanravjaa around age five. He was identified as the Fifth Noyon Khutagt when he was seven years old.

Sainshand is also the home of the Danzanravjaa museum, which holds thousands of the saint's relics such as poetry books, music scores, theatre costumes, textbooks, gifts by foreign statespeople to Danzanravjaa, his childhood clothes and toys, etc. It also contains his remains.

Among the many important projects that the Arts Council of Mongolia has undertaken, their Cultural Heritage Program recently completed a 16-month project to create two new storage rooms for the museum, train museum staff (and staff from other small museums) on international preservation standards and obtain locally produced supplies that can meet these standards.

The reason for the new storage rooms is an interesting story. In 1938, all of the relics from Danzanravjaa's monastery, Khamariin Khiid, including his remains, were in danger of being destroyed in the Communist purge. A man named Tudev who was born of a long line of men who were given the task of caring for the relics foresaw the coming destruction and each night carried one large wooden box of relics into the Gobi desert and buried it. There were 150 boxes to begin with; he was only able to get 64 of them buried before soldiers were ordered to destroy the monastery and everything it contained.

Fast forward twenty years or so. In great secrecy, Tudev began to show his grandson, Altangerel, the location of the boxes and to educate him in detail about each of the objects. Tudev would take Altangerel into the desert and unearth one box at a time and go through each item in great detail. Altangerel's family thought Tudev had plans to make Altangerel a monk because they spent so much time together. The family had no idea about the boxes. Not even Tudev's wife knew.

Fast forward forty years or so. Only after Mongolia's democratic transition in the early 90s were the boxes able to be unearthed. Altangerel, pictured here with some of the boxes, brought out 34 or so of them and founded the Danzanravjaa Museum.

30 more boxes remain under the sands of the Gobi, primarily because there has been nowhere to put the objects they contain. Still, only Altangerel knows the location of the boxes. With the two new rooms the ACM has helped to construct and bring up to international standards for preservation, the remaining boxes will be dug up very soon.

I wrote a story about this for the UB Post last week. Check it out. And, in case you've got extra time on your hands, check out this worthy blog on religion, culture, history and birdlife in Mongolia. You won't be disappointed.

Khentii Aimag/Хэнтий Аймаг

This past Friday (October 20) myself and five other foreigners who lived or were traveling in Mongolia were set to take off for Khentii aimag, located in the northeastern corner of the country, at 9 AM. However, we didn't leave until at least noon because we were waiting to get stamps for photocopied versions of our passports in case we were stopped by Russian border guards.

The stamps are required if you're going near the border and we planned to stay some 50 km from it with a Buryat family. However, someone from the Russian office had gone home with the stamp the day before so we had to wait until he came in for the day. I've been told numerous times, mostly by foreigners, that this is the Mongolian way: there are no set times for departure or arrival, especially when traveling to the countryside. Despite this, the four days I spent en route, in and on the way back from Khentii aimag were wonderful.

On our way we were hit with a small snowstorm. We didn't get to our destination until around 10:30 PM after getting lost multiple times, driving through heavy snow. Our Mongolian driver, Bimba, was a miracle worker. About 50% of the road wasn't paved and we were jostled around consistently as we cruised over juts in the road.

In Khentii, I played my first game of frisbee golf ever. I don't usually play games that involve a lot of running, but the snow was very enticing. We had snow fights, made snow people and snow angels and just frolicked in general in the snow. When the others went to go sliding, I nestled down in the ger to read and nap.

We also went horseback riding and rode in a sledge that was pulled behind a horse. The landscape was bewitching, as you'll see from some of the shots in the Countryside photo album.

On the way to and from the location of the Buryat family's camp, we stayed in Bat Shiret sum. In Mongolia, a sum (сум) is a small administrative unit. Each aimag has several of them. It's more or less a small village. Bat Shiret was very charming. The local folks were very kind and helped us find fresh bread and warm boots for those of us who needed them.

Bat Shiret also had a small monastery. The caretaker and his granddaughter generously invited us inside. It was small but very nice. Everywhere there were images in paper and metal of Buddhas. There were some small birds living in the loft; they brought the space to life.

Дараа уулзяе.

That is, see you later or meet you later. (Excuse me, Mongolian language speakers, if I've spelled it incorrectly.) Thanks to all of you you've been reading this blog. As the writer, it is good to know there are minds on the receiving end. However, I was in such a hurry to get to the Internet cafe this morning that I forgot my jump drive with more photos and the entries I've been writing from home. On Saturday I got to the cafe too late, and yesterday it was closed.

Sundays are very quiet in Ulaanbaatar. The streets are almost free of automobiles-less death to dodge! That's one thing I definitely have to get used to-Mongolian drivers. This morning as I was walking to the Internet cafe I was apparently in the way of a turning car and a very nice woman pulled me out of the way. I stayed close to her the rest of the way across the street and when we were on the other side, I said, "Баярлалаа," or thank you. She told me I spoke very good Mongolian! HA! Of course, I was quite flattered. We chatted as far as the Internet cafe, she in English and me in what Mongolian I could. It was very nice.

For those of you hungry to read this blog, check back later. I'll have more photos and the story of how/when I saw the Dalai Lama!

Сайн байн уу?

That means "Hello. How are you?" in Mongolian. I'm very pleased to be able to include Mongolian words on this blog.

I have so much yet to work out. I went with Itgel-she informed me today that there is no 't' at the end of her name-to the bank today to pay her two months rent ($500) and to exchange some $US into Mongolian money. Then, we went to the National University of Mongolia (NUM) to check in with the International Office. Unfortunately, I had no idea what Oyunjargal, the officer, and Itgel were saying to each other. It was quite frustrating.

Apparently, I would have to pay $1800 for one year of classes. But that includes four courses from 8 AM to 1 PM. I tried to explain that I only want to take one course because I need time for my project and time to volunteer at the UB Post, but neither Itgel nor Oyunjargal could understand me. I'm going to phone Ayurzana, one of the poets, to see if he can help. I might go to a different school if I have to.

One the plane ride from Chicago to Beijing I happened to be sitting my two young Americans. It was a nice surprise as one of them, Lindsey, had been living in China teaching English for a few years and could answer a lot of questions. Her parents actually live in Plymouth, MN. The other, I forget his name, was a gay Jewish recently graduated lawyer who was going to be living in DC doing real estate law. He was just going to China to travel. During one of many times the young lawyer-who was in the window seat-had to get up to move around, he looked out the window at the back of the plane and saw this. This thumbnail-I think you can enlarge it by clicking on it-is a photo I took from the plane as we flew over Beaufort Sea. Those are chunks of ice. I thought it looked very beautiful.

Here I Am

Where to start... I am in a Mongolian Internet cafe as I write this. I don't have my camera otherwise I'd upload my photos from the trip. Ayur and Olzii came to pick me up at the airport and they were quite lovely. Ayur took my cart of bags right away and Olzii took me by the arm and led my through the throngs of cab drivers trying to get my business.

At one point a man asked me if I needed a cab. I told him that someone was picking me up. He said, "Maybe they not coming. We take taxi." I assured him they would be there and indeed a second later, Olzii was taking my arm and holding me close to her. A great reception. It makes me almost want to cry now.

For those of you interested in Mongolia's current affairs, you can visit the UB Post online. I'll be volunteering for this English language newspaper in about a week and a half.

баяртай.