Mongolian Bits

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We thought we'd share with you some of the everyday trials and tribulations that come with living in the land of Chinggis Khan:

Names:
Between us, we teach about 320 kids, whose parents seemed to know at their births that some poor unspuspecting Aussies would one day show up and have to decipher the tongue-twisting jumble of consonants that they bestowed on their little darlings. We offer you a typical class list:
Tumennamstai, Erkhembayar, Purevdemberel, Tsolmongerel, Yanjinlham, Khishijargal, Uurtsaikh, Naransaikhan (who has a spectacular mullet!), Mandakhgerel...and then Batgerel, Battsengel, Batbileg, Batbold, Batbayar and Uugii, Ogii, Boggii, Moggii and Huggii.

Funny admin staff:
We love the admin chickie - she makes us smile. She gets about in little pleated skirts and runs through the hallways in her lethal-looking stilettoes, usually sporting an infectious grin. She has come up with many Monglish pearlers but one of our favourites that comes to mind is: "My Canon is very good"

Irate parents:
While we haven't encountered any of these personally, we heard of some great tizzies, most notably, the man who came in and beat up the doorman and the woman who stormed into a classroom (baby in tow) to beat the living crap out of every member of her daughter's class.

The lottery that is... running water:
Okay, it's always running, but everything else is variable.Sometimes it's all cold, sometimes lukewarm at best, sometimes scalding hot (with no cold). Occasionally it's just right, and on these days we rejoice. At the beginning, these days were few and far between, but since the heating started it's been better. And then there's the days when the water runs rich rusty red (See the "Before the bath" photo in the Mongolia photos). Needless to say, we boil our drinking water.

Quiz night:
Makes us feel stupid everytime we go, but we're gluttons for punishment. To date, the most stumping question has been:
"Name the 4 horses of the 4 horsemen of the Apocalypse"?
Thanks in advance to all the smartarses who will now promptly email the answer to us. Where are you on Thursday nights, hey???

Fermented horse milk:
Yes, we've tried the infamous airag, courtesy of the kiddies who were entrusted to us on the school excursion. We were a bit puzzled at the open possession of alcohol at a school trip, but when they poured two big cups for only us, we figured it was above board hospitality. It tasted as you'd expect...pretty horrendous. We guiltily and discreetly tipped most of our cupfuls into the grass, but the kiddies happily guzzled the rest themselves.

Fermented yoghurt, come to mention it:
Serious problem with this...We've been eating yoghurt for breakkie most mornings, but it's sold in sealed one litre bags here. It tastes quite different, but usually good. The problem is that as soon as we open the bag (and sometimes before) it turns into a horrible, separated, foaming mess, and the majority of the bag is rendered wholly inedible.

Stilettoes:
We teach 10-16 year olds, yes? You wouldn't expect our students to wear murderously high, spiky heels, would you? But they do. The most ridiculous strappy shoes (or FMBs) you've ever seen. The teachers too. Mel feels like a disabled person, getting about, as she does, in her hefty hiking boots. They don't actually make the journey to school in their silly stockings, heels and short skirts. They come in mufti for the bus trip, and generally look like normal kids. Then 10 minutes before the bell, the transformation takes place. The girls get all dolled up, and the boys don their 3-piece suits and ties. They draw their mobile phones, and the school day starts.

The International Friendship Club (IFC):
A complete wank, conjured up by teachers who seem not to be able to amuse themselves enough with the normal workload, and have made us members (ie. slaves). It had its inaugural meeting last week. Plenty of teachers stuck their heads in for a goosey and a (Chinese) snack, but only 3 kids showed up, out of a school of 700!

Truly crap movies:
UB has a cinema. One. It's truly lovely...very comfy couple(!)seats, cup-holders, candy bar, surround sound (sometimes so loud that we have to wear our ear-covering beanies to block it out). And the latest films. But only the most mind-numbingly horrible drivel imaginable. Of all the brilliant movies made in the English language, here in Mongolia, we get and have (embarrassingly) seen : Mr & Mrs Smith, Madagascar (the kids all loved it and haunt us with "I like to move it, move it"), After the Sunset (Pierce Brosnan drivel), and Constantine(Keanu Reeves tripe). These are the ones we thought might be watchable (but they weren't very). There have been worse, like Monster-in-Law, House of Wax and Deuce Bigalow-European Gigalo. We couldn't put ourselves through that. The only truly good movie that we've seen was a Mongolian one called "The Cave of the Yellow Dog", made by Mongolia's most celebrated director (who also made "The Weeping Camel", recommended by Arna). Gorgeous, cultural, and very cute indeed, starring a Gobi-lookalike in the title role.
Happily, we've just acquired (check that - we lost it again during the construction of this epic) Star Movies on our cable TV, and had the unmitigated pleasure of watching an Aussie movie last night...a good one even...something about swimming. It was a bit outside Star Movies' usual brain candy/80s rubbish offerings, with some quality acting, character development, a cameo from Dawn Fraser and Aussie accents aplenty. We particularly relished "spew", "You liddle bewdie", and most other Aussieisms ever uttered.
P.S. We happily stumbled across ABC Asia Pacific a few days ago... we'll see how long it lasts.

People-swallowing sewer holes:
These great gaping manholes in the "footpaths" are a nice hazard for spaced-out pedestrians like ourselves. They're often uncovered, and sadly, they're the front door for hundreds of homeless kids who shelter in the sewers during winter to stay warm.

Car-swallowing potholes:
The roads here are dire. We'll never complain about the Central Coast and Cullens Road again! Even the black soil tracks around Croppa would be a joy to travel on after these beauties. Add to that the seriously dogdy Korean cars that barely hang together, and road transport is a seriously dangerous sport.

Kamikaze taxi drivers:
Okay...their main problem is the very suspect roadworthiness of their cars, but they're also totally nuts, often homicidal. There's no rhyme nor reason to the traffic here (except for when Donald Rumsfeld visited for 5 hours last Saturday and there was a cop directing traffic at every intersection and another stationed every 20 metres down the footpaths of the city). So all these factors have combined for some very close calls. The most gut-wrenching and nerve-wracking driver was probably the one who took us to our private lesson on Wednesday. Soon after picking us up, he had absolutely no petrol (as seems to be the case for all taxis). He jolted up the hill for a while, then took a sharp turn onto a side road, did a U-ie, and reversed, at speed, uphill for about 200 metres to the petrol station at the top of the hill, chuckling all the while. I was certain we were going to take out a pedestrian (there's no rhyme nor reason to crossing the road here either. You just play chicken and hope). He filled up (but remained on empty), and off we went. The traffic's usually hectic at that time of day, so he decided to do us a favour and take a short cut. Good lordy lord!! It was like driving over a mine field, and Gareth's motion-sickness took a beating.

Broken glass:
Seriously...you'll never see more, ANYWHERE in the world. Try Iraq. It won't beat Mongolia for smashed vodka bottle, shimmering, foot-chopping glory.

Graveyard city:
Archaeologists would have a hard time here. Accompanying the ubiquitous smashed vodka bottles are the bones of various creatures in various states of decay. Jawbones complete with teeth, ribs, spines, big-mama femurs...we get them all. This isn't off in the countryside, it's our neighbourhood in the capital. It took a while to get used to. Usually, they're not too bloody and gross...there are PLENTY of stray dogs here to chew all the meaty bits off them.

Bloody and gross:
But...if we are after some bloody and gross blood and guts action, we need only to head down to our local market. The "corridor of gore" is quite a sight. It accommodates scores of meat stalls, where whole carcasses (mostly sheep)are wheeled in piled high on trolleys and sliced up while you wait. You can choose which bit of the animal you want, and they chop it right off for you. Bit different to Woollies. Great place to get free dog bones, though they look at you a bit funny. It was all a bit shocking the first time for this long-term vego. Last time we went, it was quite a productive excursion.

Thus ends our critique of daily life in this "untouched land". We are excitedly counting down to our 8 day escape to the Gobi Desert (36 hours for anyone who's interested). We'll be out of contact for over a week but hope that this will satisfy your needs until our return.

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