Today was a welcome surprise. I feel like we're totally cheating with this field work thing. I went two nights without a shower and now we're in a hotel with hot water (I know! A SHOWER!!).
Totally welcome though.
It was suppose to be a 200km drive and it wasn't. I also don't mind. It was maybe 100km and the road was in much better condition. We stopped a few times along the way - once along a river. There was a herd of wild horses chilling out in the river. I got some cool photos, and then sat and watched. They're so beautiful. There were some foals as well.
So cute!
I slept so well last night. I got about 10hours sleep. Amazing!
Last night was more mutton for dinner. I wasn't really hungry anyway so just ate a tiny bit. The cooking ladies hate me for it, I'm sure. They have given me so many dirty looks since then. Nevermind. I bet they'd prefer to throw out a little bit of food than have to clean it up off the floor.
The local kids put on a performance for us. It was great! Traditional dancing and singing. The kids were about 14-16 and most were super keen. I loved it! I filmed it but don't have enough internet to upload right now. I'll make a whole blog on photos and films and stuff when I get back to UB.
The kids are attending a competition in Russia, so we donated a bit of money towards their travel. I gave them 20000tugs, because it was all I had (stuffed in my bra, for 'justin) and was also what most others were giving. It was a lot more than I could afford but it was that or nothing. And these kids have way less opportunities than I ever had, and are so much more remote than I ever was. They deserved it.
It seems such a waste - to write words without being able to show you the photos. The landscape is spectacular, the horses and gazelles are SO cool and the river we saw today was just in the middle of no where!
There was a grass fire last night too. Most of the town was out fighting it. I can't seem to understand the concept of a grass fire in Mongolian steppes. I understand fire, and grass fire, and Mongolia. Even if the fire was anthropogenic, why is it such a bad thing? Gers can be moved withing 30minutes, animals are not fenced in and therefore can be driven away from the fire, and a fire in native grass would encourage fresh, more nutrient rich grass to grow. I guess it just seems funny, for it to be such a big deal - where in a non-nomadic country, there is so much more at risk. In particular, there are highly flammable trees, static homes, animals in paddocks and lots of things in the way to burn.
hmmmmmmmmmmmmm
Friday, May 27, 2011
Thursday, May 26, 2011
Mutton me up
For those of you lucky enough to have known me for a while, you will know that my dad grows some pretty tastey sheep. We eat them as lambs though – not stinky mutton.
Mongolians like their mutton. They like the flavour. I do not. Each to their own UNTIL I have to eat it too. The moral to the story is: I blame my dad for growing delicious sheep and killing them young for spoiling me and not getting me used to eating stinky mutton in preparation for Mongolian field trips.
Mutton. For lunch and dinner (not for breakfast because we specifically asked for plain bread). Mutton soup with fat, mutton chops boiled til they fall apart, mutton noodles with fat chunks, dried mutton with noodles in soup.
I don’t like mutton. It’s not a bad weight loss strategy though. I eat enough (no chewing; just swallowing) to make it look like I tried and them exclaim how full I am. It’s hardly a foolproof plan but for now I don’t care.
Right. So today was kind of what I would like to describe as a lifetime of preparation rolled in to one. I was expecting to come to Dornod and do nothing but observe. That’s pretty much what I’m doing but I’m definitely part of a team. Each team has three people and we go to herder’s houses where a whole group has gathered (a collective herder group that is currently/has previously received funding from a specific project to protect pasture land and encourage farming diversification). We sit on tiny wincy little stools for hours on end drinking milky tea (the East don’t like salt in theirs, thank goodness) and chatting. I don’t chat – I don’t chat well in Mongolian. I sit there and admire.
The language is becoming totally normal and the gers are all feeling more homely. Children run around in their absolutely filthy clothes. Everyone talks and answers questions. I occasionally get translated snippets of what is going on and I can ask questions too if I want. We have an ultimate goal of answering specific questions regarding the collective herding group, how it’s functioning, how it is governed, how they plan for the future, how they deal with change, information sharing and dissemination. All that jazz.
I asked two questions today (most already had been answered). One: how do they sow their crops (A: hire a tractor from the soum centre for a day or two and then they all go nuts and plant everything at once) and two: how do they maintain the genetic diversity of their herds (A: one family in the area has breeding stock and if they want to add more genes/change the breed a little they hire an animal from somewhere within the soum).
I am knackered. It’s only 2pm – I’m not sure how we got out of the day so easy.
Anyway. In regards to a ‘lifetime of preparation rolled into one’ it really is. I’m in a developing country talking to nomadic families who have been function for thousands of years about their herding management practices because globalization and shitty management strategies have left them high and dry. Specifically without any knowledge because it was all wiped out during previous rules. I get to be a functioning part of a team that is researching pastoral management for the better of the Mongolian people. The research also encompasses political ideas and encourages community action from the bottom up as opposed to previous eras. Mongolia is in such a unique situation – where they can learn from so many other countries and so much rangeland science to create a functional, sustainable farming system that allows people to thrive, not just survive. And I get to be a thinking hat – an Australian thinking hat with ‘fresh ideas’ (I love being young; apparently young people have fresh ideas) and enthusiasm to share (okay, I have a little bit of knowledge to share but NOT much).
The minority group in this area is called the khalk (I think). They make delicious bread as per my mention re: breakfast.
So this group of herders we were talking to this morning. This is a summary:
The group came together as a collective and applied for funding from the project I’m working on to plant some vegetables. They only got 4million tugs as the project only is suppose to fund native grass management things. Only problem is that in this area, the funding would be useless because to replant native grasses would get them no where (wrong climate).
The 10 functional families worked together to get the funding. Now they’ve got the funding, they work together to farm the 2 acres of vegetable land. They buy seed from China (I imagine) and sow in April. They all work together and then when they harvest they share equally the money they make. Last season (their first for veggies) they harvested 4million tugs worth. They eat a lot of what they grow and sell the surplus.
The land is leased to them by the soum governor on a 10 year basis. Land is not owned by anyone in Mongolia but privatization is slowly happening (for better or worse) and taxes are enforced if you haven’t organized to lease a parcel of land.
That’s kind of it. There’s more but I’m sleepy. There was also the cutest little 2yo girl. Her mother is the most beautiful Mongolian woman I have seen. She had beautiful white sparkly teeth, plump lips and blue eyes. She is the youngest of the collective so was very busy serving bowls and bowls of tea and looking after her two children.
Tonight is a performance from the kids at the kindergarten. Tonight would also be a bloody good night for a shower but I don’t think it’s going to happen. There is no running water. I have enough drinking water for tomorrow but am slightly worried about the following days. I’m sure someone has it under control.
Bayartai
xox
Mongolians like their mutton. They like the flavour. I do not. Each to their own UNTIL I have to eat it too. The moral to the story is: I blame my dad for growing delicious sheep and killing them young for spoiling me and not getting me used to eating stinky mutton in preparation for Mongolian field trips.
Mutton. For lunch and dinner (not for breakfast because we specifically asked for plain bread). Mutton soup with fat, mutton chops boiled til they fall apart, mutton noodles with fat chunks, dried mutton with noodles in soup.
I don’t like mutton. It’s not a bad weight loss strategy though. I eat enough (no chewing; just swallowing) to make it look like I tried and them exclaim how full I am. It’s hardly a foolproof plan but for now I don’t care.
Right. So today was kind of what I would like to describe as a lifetime of preparation rolled in to one. I was expecting to come to Dornod and do nothing but observe. That’s pretty much what I’m doing but I’m definitely part of a team. Each team has three people and we go to herder’s houses where a whole group has gathered (a collective herder group that is currently/has previously received funding from a specific project to protect pasture land and encourage farming diversification). We sit on tiny wincy little stools for hours on end drinking milky tea (the East don’t like salt in theirs, thank goodness) and chatting. I don’t chat – I don’t chat well in Mongolian. I sit there and admire.
The language is becoming totally normal and the gers are all feeling more homely. Children run around in their absolutely filthy clothes. Everyone talks and answers questions. I occasionally get translated snippets of what is going on and I can ask questions too if I want. We have an ultimate goal of answering specific questions regarding the collective herding group, how it’s functioning, how it is governed, how they plan for the future, how they deal with change, information sharing and dissemination. All that jazz.
I asked two questions today (most already had been answered). One: how do they sow their crops (A: hire a tractor from the soum centre for a day or two and then they all go nuts and plant everything at once) and two: how do they maintain the genetic diversity of their herds (A: one family in the area has breeding stock and if they want to add more genes/change the breed a little they hire an animal from somewhere within the soum).
I am knackered. It’s only 2pm – I’m not sure how we got out of the day so easy.
Anyway. In regards to a ‘lifetime of preparation rolled into one’ it really is. I’m in a developing country talking to nomadic families who have been function for thousands of years about their herding management practices because globalization and shitty management strategies have left them high and dry. Specifically without any knowledge because it was all wiped out during previous rules. I get to be a functioning part of a team that is researching pastoral management for the better of the Mongolian people. The research also encompasses political ideas and encourages community action from the bottom up as opposed to previous eras. Mongolia is in such a unique situation – where they can learn from so many other countries and so much rangeland science to create a functional, sustainable farming system that allows people to thrive, not just survive. And I get to be a thinking hat – an Australian thinking hat with ‘fresh ideas’ (I love being young; apparently young people have fresh ideas) and enthusiasm to share (okay, I have a little bit of knowledge to share but NOT much).
The minority group in this area is called the khalk (I think). They make delicious bread as per my mention re: breakfast.
So this group of herders we were talking to this morning. This is a summary:
The group came together as a collective and applied for funding from the project I’m working on to plant some vegetables. They only got 4million tugs as the project only is suppose to fund native grass management things. Only problem is that in this area, the funding would be useless because to replant native grasses would get them no where (wrong climate).
The 10 functional families worked together to get the funding. Now they’ve got the funding, they work together to farm the 2 acres of vegetable land. They buy seed from China (I imagine) and sow in April. They all work together and then when they harvest they share equally the money they make. Last season (their first for veggies) they harvested 4million tugs worth. They eat a lot of what they grow and sell the surplus.
The land is leased to them by the soum governor on a 10 year basis. Land is not owned by anyone in Mongolia but privatization is slowly happening (for better or worse) and taxes are enforced if you haven’t organized to lease a parcel of land.
That’s kind of it. There’s more but I’m sleepy. There was also the cutest little 2yo girl. Her mother is the most beautiful Mongolian woman I have seen. She had beautiful white sparkly teeth, plump lips and blue eyes. She is the youngest of the collective so was very busy serving bowls and bowls of tea and looking after her two children.
Tonight is a performance from the kids at the kindergarten. Tonight would also be a bloody good night for a shower but I don’t think it’s going to happen. There is no running water. I have enough drinking water for tomorrow but am slightly worried about the following days. I’m sure someone has it under control.
Bayartai
xox
Sending Hi-5’s from Dornod
No photos; currently using phone internet to wifi to my laptop and it's not good enough for photos. I was going to wait to add everything WITH photos but then I felt that every definitely needed to know all this stuff. A special shout out to gma - hope everything's okay and this is probably long enough to keep you occupied for a little while. xox
What a bloody surreal day. How lucky am I...... Or is it luck? I don't care what it is; wholey shitballs this is AMAZING.
I'm sitting in a ger in the school yard of the local kindergarten where the locals have erected a ger especially for us. We have 3 beds - one each. They're ridiculously uncomfortable but I guess better than nothing.
I left the house in a hurry this morning at 7:30am. Apparently it was the day to be on time. Nevermind. I hurried and I’m pretty sure I’ve got everything. I definitely have nickers and a toothbrush anyway.
We picked a couple of Swiss guys up and some more Mongolians. Turns out the Mongolian guy in my car lived in Albion (near where I lived in Clayfield, Brisbane) and drove cabs for a year so we had a lot of catching up to do.
And then it just gets better. The road to the first town we stopped in was fully paved. TOO EASY! Warm, comfy jeep, paved roads. It only had to get worse.
And it did.
From lunch (which, by the way, was awesome Chinese food in a restaurant in a town that would not even rival Gulgong for size and quality) the highway to the East became a dirt track. Imagine, if you will – Moolarben Road. But not just Moolarben Road. Imagine the road having not been graded for two years and a flood come through twice.
It was THAT bad. The road was 300km long and our driver drove at MINIMUM – 80km/hour. My dad would have had a FIT. I got pretty car sick. Sore neck from jerking. The driver didn’t see it necessary to slow down early for bumps and bends.
We stopped a lot. To ‘look at the horses’ (to pee) – which, might I add – is a lot easier for guys than for girls on the steppes with no trees. We beeped at everything. Birds (we saw vultures!), wild horses, flocks of sheep and goats, Ovoo’s (Buddhist piles of rocks you’re suppose to stop at, give an offering and walk around three times anticlockwise – OR you can just beep as you go past), people, cars……
Wild horses are everywhere. It’s a steppe – but it’s not completely flat. There are no fences, just gers dotted every 5-10km.
It rained the whole way which apparently means good luck. It has to. This is amazing. Don’t get me wrong – I feel like a fish out of water. Like an alien from the Milky Way without chocolate, like someone who is from somewhere so completely different and doesn’t have the capacity, wisdom, knowledge and/or experience to fully appreciate it.
But (excuse the blasphemy) Christ Almighty, it is just amazing. Think Atacama Desert (oldest driest desert in the world) with slightly more rainfall, shitter climatic extremes and a super turbulent history.
These people live here. It’s not a life that I would call a life. These people are here to survive. And they do that – just fine. But certainly not without pain. Last winter (the one before last) was a major Dzud (winter drought) that killed 50% of the livestock. That’s half of their entire income. As nomads there is no economic diversity. It’s easy to see why – there’s no point as there’s no one to sell anything to anyway. So with only animals to make a living off, to lose half of your salary – oh man, I just can’t imagine. And then to go on, year after year.
We arrived after 10 hours of driving. We ate dinner in what could only be described as the boondocks of a CWA hall that hasn’t been used in 10years. We had mutton soup for entrée. I don’t like mutton. I figured out why, too. It smells and tastes like a shearing shed. Literally. With the piss and the pooh and the lanolin and the dust and everything. So then for mains we had mutton with rice. I could stomach the mutton if it were just muscle. It’s not – the fat is the best part to Mongolians (one can only presume because of its fattening properties to allow you to basically fatten up for the winter).
We are kept warm with a fire that is kind of a like a thinner version of a pot belly stove. The fuel is a combination of pine and pooh. Horse and cow pooh. It doesn’t even stink, and if anything it’s better than the pine because at least it lasts a bit longer.
The toilet is a drop toilet with no seat. It seems to have a larger than necessary hole in it which is scary at night time! How do you pee when you’re trying not to fall in the bloody great big hole? I seriously considered trying the kid’s loo (it’s a kindergarten, so they have baby toilets too) because it would have a smaller hole but decided against it.
I’m glad I brought nuts with me. Lots of nuts. What a lifeline.
I’m on a ‘per diem’ of 45000tugs/day. It’s not that much. I paid for water and lunch and then I imagine accommodation will be something similar – taking up the majority of the money. It’s really not that much cheaper in Mongolia than Australia. But the tents are way cooler.
They’re much warmer, they’re not as sunny in the morning, they’re weather proof and they’re stable. There’s a hard floor and a fire in the middle. It takes 29minutes for a team of guys to put one up. That’s less time than it used to take a team of dads to put up those dodgey square tents we camped in before the dome tent revolution. The Mongolians shit all over Australian camping!
The downside is the lack of privacy. Being a one circular roomed tent, you just have to suck it up and get naked. I forgot to change my knickers this morning. Ew – gross, right? No way hozay; I wasn’t stripping down again in front of everyone just to do that! I would care at home. In Dornod, I do not. And looking on the bright side, I will have an extra pair should we get stuck here for a few more days. Re: the privacy issue – for example, I was putting my PJ’s on and generally stuffing around when I just turned and caught a glimpse of the girl I was sharing with – changing her tampon on her bed. Wowsers. But then, not so wowsers. There are guards outside, no toilet, no shower, people whispering around the tent – where else do you do it?!
Another lovely story from the evening: there’s a guy in charge of looking after us specifically. He keeps coming in and adding more pooh to the fire and stuff. He came in with his wife before while I was typing on this very laptop, writing this very blog. They were totally intrigued with the laptop. I specifically bought my external harddrive with my photos and videos in it, for this occasion. I pulled up videos and photos of Australia. Might I add – we totally conversed. I could point at my sisters and say ‘doo’ (Tj, Nikki and EG – they were pretty impressed with you too). I could point at my home and say ‘ger’. You know, those kind of detail oriented, highly structured conversations.
And then I thought – WAIT. You silly girl. You’re in the middle of no where talking to herders. As if they’d be keen to see Australia when I could show them Australian farming! So that I did. Sometimes my organization surprises me. But then it doesn’t because I remember how long it took me to come up with final ideas and final lists. Anyway, I had videos of the dogs going round sheep and cows. I had videos of the Cassilis Rodeo. I had photos of a lot of other things. They almost had kittens.
Dude and his wife: ‘Mert – Mert mert!!!!!????’
Sally: tim (yes)
D: (mimes height)
S: (mimes rough idea of height)
D: Anglaise, Americadt….
S: Anglaise (English horse)
D: ogles, oooohs and ahhhhhhhhh at the bucking bulls, horses and cows at the rodeo
And the story continues – wanting to know how heavy Australian steers are, how tall they are. Why Australian sheep have no tail. How heavy they are. Whether we milk the cows. Whether we eat the sheep.
It was definintely one of those absolutely beautiful moments of my life that I will never forget. His wife was sitting so close to me she was practically on top of me. They just keep looking and looking. It was 11:30pm and I needed sleep so bad. I needed to finish writing my blog because it’s my reflection of the day and without it, I lay awake in bed and wonder and wonder and think and think. Once I finally gave them the impression I wanted to go, I hopped in to bed and tried to fall asleep. It didn’t happen. I should have finished my blog, but the reason this has changed tenses is because I did not finish my blog and instead willed myself to sleep. It only took 3 hours. Idiot.
Sometimes I realize I have a lot more growing up to do than I think. For example, now I know to just do the bloody thing and follow my instincts, thereby getting at least decent sleep.
RIGHT. Breakfast time. Today we are visiting herders.
This is amazing. So amazing. I’m totally scared and totally out of my depth but I love it. The challenge is great and I hate it but I love it.
Bring it on!
Tuesday, May 24, 2011
Doorknob?!
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| Map of Mongolia - Dornod is the highlighted province to the East |
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| A sneak peek at where I'm heading to tomorrow |
That's all I knew. That's all I still know. But I'm leaving tomorrow for Dornod. I'm 100% hoping we're flying (it's an epic journey and there are no paved roads) but I highly doubt it.
I started packing this morning - essentials like first aid kit with extra nurofen, 1kg of mixed nuts, 2min noodles, tinned tuna, muesli. You know, the standard 'I don't want to eat deep fried mutton and boiled sheep head for the next week so I will ration my tinned tuna to suit my formidable appetite' picnic basket.
I am hoping I get at least one shower and I get to sleep on a bed, not on the floor. I guess after a few nights I'll be so tired/hungry that I'll sleep where ever and eat whatever. We'll see.
My purple fingernails will be up shit creek without a paddle. Not really - they will just look really bad. Note to self: stick to more natural colours in order to avoid nail regrowth issues.
Wish me luck!
P.s. there will likely be no a. internet b. electricity. c. phone reception d. running water so don't expect emails, facebook updates, phone calls, text messages, good health or blog updates.
Monday, May 23, 2011
Saturday night and the Ballet
Saturday night was a whole lot of fun. Saturday was pretty sleepy; not having slept much on Friday night didn’t help. A band of expats were playing at a local nightclub and they were AWESOME. I danced all night and had the best time. I met some new people and danced with people I mis-read (but still had a LOT of fun nevertheless). Everything has to shut at midnight which so far is a good things because it means a relatively early night and less of a hangover.
All in all, a wonderful introduction to Mongolian live music. Albeit expat Mongolian music. I didn’t stop smiling all night. Above – the photos to prove it.
Today was another slow day – after even less sleep last night, I had a bit of morning sleep in, in a vain attempt at catching up on some zzzzzzz’s. Once I woke up and organised myself Sarah and I wandered to the German bakery and had a bloody delicious salad and pastrami sandwich (pastrami slightly frozen but who am I to complain?). We continued our walk to the most awesome, amazing, epic, picturesque, spectacular sewing machine shop you’ve ever seen. Proof:
Yup. Bloody fantastic.
Their customer service wasn’t amazing, but I can’t complain because my Mongolian is terrible thus far. I spent a good two hours in there. There were 6 sewing machines to choose from. I automatically culled the cheap ones. It was a brand I hadn’t heard of and I wasn’t about to spend heaps of money on something so it could break tomorrow.
Above: my amazing purchase of the day. It cost me a trip to the countryside. 477800Tugs for the lot. That’s a pretty good trip to the countryside. But totally, totally worth it.
I got some scissors, pins, pin cushion and some cotton too. Now I need some material. Oh man, do I ever need material! I’m desperate! I want to get some patterns from the States (you can’t get them here), so I’ll have to wait til I can make dresses and stuff but I can make some PJ’s without a pattern. And scrunchies. I don’t care – I just want to make something! And I can! My new singer sewing machine has cruise control. No shit! You can tell it how fast to go and it just goes. And there’s an automatic button hole maker. Goodness gracious me!
I found out all this by pretending I understood a little bit of what they were saying. We pulled the machine out and had a bit of a play – she showed me some cool stuff. And then we trundled back home to go to the ballet.
And, what a night! It was amazing! For $7, it was AMAZING!
Swan Lake by the Mongolian Ballet
The theatre is beautiful as well. It’s very Soviet but has some lovely Mongolian touches as well. See below for more:
Sunday, May 22, 2011
If I was in Brisbane….
If I was in Brisbane, today I would be a lot more hung-over than I currently am. I would have made bacon and eggs with a rocket salad with blue cheese and poached pear on a super fresh, crusty white bread roll. Then I would have done my washing, cleaned my room, gone to the markets at Southbank and then a movie followed by dumplings and an early night.
But seeing as I am in Mongolia, things are a little different. Last night I went to a party where there were lots of wrestlers and lots of expats. I drank a little bit of vodka because the Indian I had for dinner made it hard to keep anything down. Then I got home at 4am and went to sleep til 10am. Ate home made muesli with UHT milk for breakfast, put on a load of washing and then washed my hair in the sink with water so cold it gave me brain freeze. Now I have a plastic bag over my head with conditioner in it because I am too scared to wash it out.
I apologise for the lack of photos. I’d hidden my bag and camera so well I was too lazy to find it to take a photo.
In between mini-spews, it was a pretty fun night. A night full of compliments as well. If I maintain modesty during the year on this blog, you’ll never get a full picture. So modesty aside, I got a buttload of compliments last night. It’s always nice to receive compliments! There was a group upon my arrival that apparently like my physique, my face and then to top it off someone had mentioned I was nice as well (heard from a friend). What a funny thing to say though! There was a group of Mongolian wrestlers that were super keen to meet me and then proceeded to sing loudly to the music in very broken and funny english. One tried to give me his phone number by typing it on his phone and showing me. I don’t know my phone number, which isn’t very handy and I don’t take my phone many places because I’m too scared it’ll get taken.
Then I had to have my photo taken by a Mongolian guy for some reason or another. Once I realised it was 3am, it was time to go home. I had three potential walker-homer-ers. Which is a good situation to be in, unless you’ve told all three guys that you definitely need them to take you home (you can’t go home alone here – even in a taxi). So then I felt guilty that I’d promised I’d walk home with three different people but obviously did not need three grown men to walk me home. No doubt they probably wouldn’t have been keen for that either. So I kind of just escaped and walked home with walker-homer-er number 3. We had a cup of tea (SO cold outside, had to warm up) and then by the time he left it was 4am and I was in bed.
I caved and got a manicure. I’m not sure I’ll ever bother again. It just took too long and now I have purple nails until I could be bothered to get it off. I also organised 3 other people to come to the gym with me and check it out. Turns out it’s actually the nicest gym in Mongolia. It’s got all the equipment I could ever want (including personal lockers and a sauna), except a rowing machine. I guess I don’t really like rowing all that much anyway.
Tomorrow morning we’re all going to join and do a morning workout. I can’t wait. Day one of eating well and exercising again. I’m sure I’m going to feel 100% better than I do now (even though I don’t feed too bad). It costs 180 000Tugs for 3 months gym. It’s also the cheapest gym I’ve found! I’m going to try to go at lunch times, which will be a good habit to get into especially for winter – as the sun will be up then and I will still be able to walk alone.
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