Fire trucks

My apartment is one block from the (what I assume to be) central fire station. There are six garages that I'm almost certain are filled with six fire trucks. The quality of the trucks range fairly heftily. This one is my favourite. I hear the trucks at least once a day, which is scary as there are very, very few buildings with a fire escape. The traffic in UB is such that it can (and does; eg. yesterday) take up to an hour to drive about 4km. Vehicles, upon hearing the drone of the eeeeee-orrrrrrrrrrrrr, will make an attempt to move off the road. Unfortunately this amounts to not much as most vehicles drive on all parts of the road, side road, middle road and other side of the road.

Do not fear, my fellow followers. I have devised schemes. I didn't work in the mining industry for the last three years and gain no HSE sense.

Should a fire erupt in my apartment, I will grab my passport and jump out the window. We are only on the third floor which means gravity is on my side and should I fall, I will only break smaller/less essential bones such as arms and legs. If there is a car under the window, I will aim for the roof as that will save me an extra 2m of falling.

Should a fire get out of control in my office, I will calmly boot down the fire escape door and walk down the 6 flights of stairs whilst holding on to the hand rail (mainly because I'm not sure on the quality of the aforementioned stairs).

If I need an ambulance.... Well, that's a different story. One day when I catch a glimpse of one I'll get a photo of it. They resemble what could only be described as the equivalent of a Kombi van. But they're an old Russian vehicle painted white with what looks quite rudimentary gear inside. Basically I will stay out of harms way and if the need arrives for a ambulance, I shall count my lucky stars that I lasted that long without having to call one.

To mum and dad: I promise I won't ever need an ambulance; I will make it worthwhile and at least make them fly me out of here in a jet or a helicopter. xox

First photography ‘group’ shots

So I’m trying to set up a group of people that want to take photos around the place. It’s too dangerous to get your camera out alone –> safety in numbers! Last night was our first meet up. It was about minus 5 degrees which made playing with camera buttons THAT much harder. And shorter. Hopefully next week will be warm enough to play around properly. Above: the view from our kitchen balcony looking up the main street.

Sukhbaatar Square: Parliament house (I live directly behind this building)

A man on a horse (the statue in the middle of the square) with Sky Tower in the background

The first three groupies! All set up and taking photos from different angles

Vie from the square

Chinggis and another horse statue (note: he is always disproportionate to everything around him)

The Mongolian flag, flying high (and cold!) at the end of Spring, 2011

Plastic sewing machines

Yesterday at work was a little more productive as I created my own projects and started figuring out what I wanted to talk to the boss about. She gets back tomorrow apparently, but I’m not ready to talk to her yet. My counterpart gets back next Tuesday.

Last night was hockey. Lots of fun except there’s one girl that likes to pretend her hockey stick is a whipper snipper. Because you can use both sides of the stick, she comes steamrolling in and when she misses, she swings back the other way, and if your legs are in the way – too bad! I’ve got multiple bruises popping up today. I got a bit sick of it and started sticking the elbow in, which is a bit naughty but she’d hurt everyone else enough.

Post-hockey drinks were lovely. We just sat and chatted. I’m hooked up to go on a field trip with year 2 students. They’re studying rocks and one of the girls from hockey is their teacher – blah blah, we’re going to take them on a field trip!

Today at work was less productive (work wise). Ulnaa and I went to the post office. That was a big enough job in itself. My 20 letters were apparently addressed wrong, so I had to buy 20 new envelopes and re-address them, with my personal address written in cyrillic on them as well. We production-lined it and had them done in no time. $30 later, the letters were posted and we were on our way back to pick up some work people for a lunch. My work has a car and a driver that is practically a free taxi service. So we spent an hour going about 4km to drop them off. The traffic is horrendous.

We went to the VIP Mobicom centre. Apparently I classify as a VIP. It just means I got served a lot quicker, they were a lot nicer and it wasn’t in a room with a million other people. I’ve got a plan of some sort on my phone now.

Lunch at a delicious bakery and then confirmed that I am destined never to use a sewing machine in Mongolia. The one that the department store had for sale was apparently a returned machine that is made of plastic and won’t work very well. My only other option is to buy an industrial sewing machine, which is highly unnecessary. But super unfortunate. I would have loved to sew. Nevermind; must think of new hobby.

This evening I’m off to a museum opening and then to conduct my trial photography group. There are 4 people showing up tonight. I gave them all homework last night (research ISO, Aperture and shutter speed). Hopefully it’s fun!

And then on Sunday, AND next Sunday, I’m off to the theatre to see the Mongolian ballet perform Swan Lake and Tara Chojin respectively. It cost 10,000tugs/seat which is about $7aud. Crazy cheap. I am SO excited!

Sans hot water

The hot water's off. I was actually surprised we had any at all, but then I kind of got used to it and now we don't have hot water and I'd really love a shower. Instead I have a lot of water boiling on the stove ready for my first (of many) sponge bath. At least it's warm water.
Top rated sponge bathes ever:
1. In Vietnam in Binh Dinh village after days of trekking and learning and sweltering in the middle of no where, I got back to my mattress-free bed and was ready to change in to my PJ's and sleep in grime when my host lady came to the rescue. They couldn't even afford to put doors on their house, or mattresses on their bed. But they could boil water for me to have a bucket bath in the toilet that was right next to the pig pen. It was, by and far and far and by the best, warmest, most comforting shower/wash/bucket bath that I have ever, ever have. I also don't think I have ever felt more grateful in my life.

2. In Kenya after days of safari with some completed retarded people (not including my sisters; they are cool), we still had no running water. Our tour guide was an absolute tool and we were staying in a national park where you could literally be killed by: lions, elephants, scorpions, leopards and god only knows what else. If I was with anyone else, they would have clocked me on the head and told me to just deal with being grimey and go to sleep in the stupid little tent with the stupid little mattress. But no, Tegan and Nikki shone the torch outside in the cold (so I could see and so they could watch for lions) while I used a bottle of water to wash the grime off me. It was a quick wash, but it was a great wash. It was also one of those 'I am beyond grateful for my sisters' moment.

3. I'm afraid that tonight's bucket bath will not make it to number 3 on the list. I haven't had a tough day and I'm not super dirty. But I need a shower. At least this one will be warm.

4. Under Mt Kilimanjaro (Kenya side), we'd had a pretty rough time the previous few days, made it to camp only to find out that even though we were in a compound, the lions would still get in if we made ourselves a target. Target or no target, we had to shower. There was a SHOWER! It was a tap on the wall above your head. It was cold, and it was without pressure but dear lord - it was amazing! There were spiders everywhere and little microbats but in between them was the 4th most amazing wash I have ever had.

5. All the warm showers I have had post-full day of geological mapping/hockey playing/bike riding/field tripping/skiing in the icy cold.

Ode to showers: I love you.

Work wasn't amazing. No one's there so I just sat around and played on the computer and read some articles. I got the internet set up, scored a proper mouse and a proper keyboard and then made my way home. I ran into 3 Aussies working in a coal mine in the South Gobi. Some typical construction workers - super friendly, really keen for a chat. We chatted. They told me they could get me a job. They told me they earn TEN THOUSAND DOLLARS A DAY. I told them I'm volunteering. They insisted on getting me a job. I had to INSIST that I didn't want a paying job.

It almost killed me. These guys legitimately could have helped me get a job that would have paid me more money than one can fathom in a day - and I had to say no. Because I'm doing a good thing. Volunteering. I'm not even doing it properly - I get an allowance! I'm doing the easy version of volunteering!

But I still had to say no. I was shaking for two hours afterwards and ate a whole packet of (the equivalent of) Jatz. I'm over it now. But goodness gracious me. What a predicament.
I also had a nightmare last night re: my old work. My boss' boss' boss (so the big guy) cut loose and went nuts at work and quit and we all didn't know what to do. It doesn't sound nightmarish but it was. I guess because I still really like that joint, and really want to go back - and anyone that challenges that upsets me. And if THAT guy challenges it, then I'd kind of have to believe it.

Nevermind, I'm in Mongolia. :)

My first Mongolian mistake

My first day at Origin was organised months beforehand. I had to meet at the office at 335 Coronation Drive, Brisbane, at 9am. My boss would meet me downstairs and we would go from there.

This morning is my first day at the World Bank. It’s 9:24am. I was up at 6:30am, ready at 6:50am. I walked to work (10min walk) in my heels (bad idea, Sally. Heels are never, ever comfortable unless you’re rip-roaring drunk). I sat downstairs and called the office twice and sent a text message. The lady who has been organising my placement is in Washington on a work trip with what seems like the entire office except for Urnaa. Urnaa eventually called me back and told me that I’d have to wait until 10am because she won’t be there til then and no one upstairs can speak English.

So I packed up my stuff and trotted home. What I should have done is call Urnaa last night and confirm everything. I might have found out my start time a bit more accurately. I was told 9am (and no earlier). Promptness does not often pay off, and this morning it certainly didn’t.

Nevermind, now I’m at home and I think I’ll watch an episode of gossip girl.

The key to my heart

Actually, not really. Above are the photos that are the 'key to my apartment’.  (clockwise from top left: the stairwell and front door of our apartment; the front door of the building our apartment is in; the local Russian Caravan; the lowest building in the photo – just so happens to be our local supermarket.

Beautiful day today – 17 degrees outside and the sun is shining. I’ve got the house to myself for a few hours which is lovely. Not that I don’t like my housemates – it’s just always nice to have your own time. I’ve organised some paperwork, been to two different supermarkets (just to check them out), vacuumed, cleaned my room, made some lunch with leftovers for tomorrow and read a little bit.

I really wanted to make something to take to work with me tomorrow. I’m out of ideas though. I don’t feel 100%. I attempted scones and choc chip biscuits. Both of which were sub-par and would never be given as a gift to my new workmates. So they’ll have to wait. Maybe one day when I’ve got a bit more cashola up my sleeve, I’ll make some mini pavlovas. That also requires me finding some whippable cream.

Bayartai (goodbye)