So, where were we?
I left you at our journey north: to Bulgan soum.
One thing I haven’t described yet is the vodka thing. Vodka is used as a blessing and celebratory drink. When you’re going on a journey, you’ll stop on the way and bless the trip with a shot of vodka. If you stop on the way, you’ll drink a bottle of vodka. If you’re toasting, you’ll toast with a shot of vodka. If you’re celebrating or thanking, you’ll use a shot of vodka.
The vodka is brought beforehand and is always handy in the vehicle. In the vodka selling shops, they have LOTS of little medicine sized cups that you can just take to use.
When you stop, the least important important person there has to hand the vodka around. He’ll have one of the plastic/paper shot glasses and he’ll offer it to the most important person. He’ll say a toast and then drink the shot. He will take a fair swig at it but rarely finish the entire shot. Then he hands it back to the least important important person who will top up the shot glass and hand it to the second most important person. The important people are always men (which is ironic because Mongolia is mainly run by women). So the same shot glass will be handed around, topped up, handed around until the paper in the cup gives way and they get a new one. I choose to believe the vodka acts as a disinfectant because I’m usually very close to the last person to have to drink the vodka. (below: vodka and mutton at a stop along the way)
Sometimes you’ll just have a shot of vodka each (usually just a blessing) or sometimes you’ll just have to keep receiving these shots of vodka and passing them back until all the vodka is gone. Sometimes when you’re really unlucky, the bottle will finish and they’ll bring out ANOTHER bottle. Sneaky bastards!!
So we arrived late at night to Bulgan soum and the little huts we are staying in. They’re pretty cute and we’ve got a comfortable single mattress but that’s it. No water, no lights, no toilet. There’s a spring just 200m away which is great but the toilet is another story. (below: our cabin at night and then in the morning)
I piked early and went to bed at 10:30pm because I was pooped. Trying to fit in to a culture that is not yours really takes it out of you and I was tired! I also wasn’t in the mood to sit up and listen to 40 Mongolians talk in Mongolian all night. So bed it was and I was ready to receive the wrath in the morning. Which there was. There was rumours floating around that I hate everyone, based purely on the fact that I didn’t stay up drinking vodka.
nevermind.
Our first day here was competition day. We had a slow morning and then took the cars and went down by the Selenge River where a Khorkhog (sheep in a big round dish with potatoes and baked to oblivion) had already started. We lolled around while some guys put up a volleyball net. I read my kindle. Vodka was being readily served. Volleyball started and I took up my post as photographer. I never set out for it to be that way, but taking photos is an almighty blessing when you’re in a different culture. I wasn’t on the volleyball team and everyone else was chatting away. If I sit by myself I look like a loser that’s not trying to make friends (even though I can’t because they want to speak Mongolian with their friends, not try to speak English with me). So instead I take up post with my tripod and camera and practice. I got some okay shots.
Then it was Khorkhog time and I was given a plate of mutton that I fobbed off onto someone else while my friend got me a plate of potato and cabbage. It’s all been cooked in the mutton fat so I have a job trying to hold just the potatoes down. They KEPT TRYING to give me airag, and every time they’d get pissed off that I won’t drink their airag. GET THE PICTURE, mate! So then because I wouldn’t drink their airag or eat their meat (trust me, I’ve tried and I feel terrible that I have to continue refusing), they brought me a cup of the juice from the khorkhog. Wholey shitballs. If that isn’t the epitome of disgusting-ness to me, there’s not much else that would top it. Of all things, I can’t drink the byproduct of cooked meat (I don’t eat soup with bones in it etc etc). So he handed me a cup of something he thought I would like and I had to say no again. KILL ME NOW!
Post-lunch was a wrestling match which was really fun to watch. All the guys take their shirts off, tighten their belts and start touching each others legs, pulling up their undies and kicking each others shins.
After a bit of down-time, it was competition time. Each team had to do a relay of blindfolded runs, sack races and epic 20 legged race. I was to begin our team’s effort as I had proven the night before I knew how to spot (no one else knew about the standard ballet practice of holding your gaze on one thing). I had to put my hand on a volleyball and go round it 10 times. I ran as fast as I could around this ball, while spotting people’s awed faces – no one had seen anything like it! Anyway, it put me in good stead to piss bolt to the sack racing man. I got lots of cheers. Afterwards and even now, I’m the talk of the group because I can run so fast! (who would have thunk it!)
Our team won, courtesy of a really good sack racing man, a really strong man/woman team that alternately carried each other and a really good ballet spotter.
We had to celebrate with bloody vodka. We won 100000tugrik, to divide between the 9 people in our team. The man that had taken charge (but wasn’t a very good leader) asked what we should do with the money. I said that I vote we should give it to charity. He practically spat in my face and said ‘NEVER’. I doubt I’ll ever see my winning portion of that money.
We took a vehicle down to the bank of the river and celebrated there for a bit. Some people got paralytic drunk and started singing. I just took some photos.
Back at camp people were playing cards and it continued until sundown (10pm) when it got really cold really quickly. We drove back to our cabins and everyone continued the drinking. I had to drink more vodka as the aimag coordinator was so pleased to have me as a visitor to his area. Then I had to drink more because of something else and something else and eventually I just began to accept the fact I’d definitely piss some people off by not drinking their vodka but I just couldn’t do it anymore. It’s a horrible, pathetic feeling: knowing all you have to do is drink the vodka and you’ll be their best friend, but knowing you can’t let yourself get that drunk for fear of your own safety (and I guess what I’d get up to if I did get SUPER drunk – I never seem to keep my clothes on). It’s also a bit of stubbornness as well – I don’t want to have to drink vodka to prove myself. And I also don’t want an epic hangover.
I probably offended about 6 people last night – all important people. Too bad.
We ended up sitting outside around a table (full of mutton and airag), singing songs. I had to sing an Australian song. Shitballs. I don’t sing. Ever. I don’t remember lyrics because I’d rather use the brain space to store something worthwhile. I mustered up ‘Waltzing Matilda’ mainly because it’s seriously the only song that I know one entire verse to. And I sang. It was terrible, but kind of liberating. And they all tried to hum along but NEVER got the tune. Probably my fault.
I had to dance with a couple of the security guards who had a tight grip on me (literally, I’m surprised I don’t have bruises on my wrists this morning) and tried to force feed me vodka (dear sir, no, I am not stupid enough to skoll your vodka so I get drunk enough to have sex with you, sincerely, sally). It was fun. The aimag coordinator is an old guy who clearly knows his shit, is very wise and all that jazz. He was hanging around as well and joining in the fun with such genuine and sincere care and love in his eyes. I got my packet of beef jerky that dad brought with him and shared it round. It was well received and they all LOVED to eat Australian beef. Even though it’s pretty tough now because of its trip to the Gobi and back.
So we danced and sang as the stars lit up the night. Vodka was poured freely and the airag was drunk in large quantities. It was definitely one of the more accepting cultural experiences thus far.
I snuck to bed at half past midnight and slept well.
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