Mining Day

Ahhhhhhhhhh Shit. I don’t want to be an aid worker. I want to be a miner. Today I even justified it by saying to myself that mining is like aid work. Everybody NEEDS mining to some degree. Even the hippiest hippy you’ll ever find will ride a push bike made or metal and drink from pipes made of metal and consume recycled paper that was made using metal machinery. So mining is necessary. And therefore it’s like aid work because lots of people don’t want to be a miner because it’s ‘wrong’ and so those that DO mine, are doing a good deed?

It’s okay, it made total sense to me this morning. I understand that it’s probably total bullshit.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Above: at the Chojin Lama Temple Museum book launch

I went to work for an hour. I emailed a lady that is going to help me with my seed database. She is very friendly and useful. I left to attend the book launch at my friend’s work. It was all in Mongolian and she spoke which was cool. In English. She spoke a little English bit. And then I had lunch at Millie’s cafe that was very busy and had to listen to a Yank yell at the very busy waiter for his tea because he wanted his cup of tea. And didn’t want his bottle of water she brought out because it was wrong (it was a standard bottle of bottled water).

And then I went to the mining conference. (see above) Oh wow. A very very very nice man in Mongolia from Austrade helped me in to the exhibition by organising a ticket for me. It’s expensive to go but they had a stall which meant they had tickets. I just borrowed it to get in and then gave it back. It was so nice of him. And SO great. I was floating around in heaven. People gave me free stuff. A pedometer, books, pens…… all the standard stuff. And people talked to me – about interesting things. And the companies are all doing very interesting things. I walked around and around. I was stopped by a Sandvik guy who was interested in me because I was telling my Mongolian friend about how overshots work (he had them on display – they are what you send down the hole to bring your core back up to the surface after you’ve drilled it). We talked for about an hour. He had a mini functioning drill set up so my friend learnt a lot and so did I. It was just really nice to see the gear and talk to someone about how it works and…………. it was great.

And now I have three bags full of stuff to read.

I sent a text message to the Austrade guy to thank him for helping me – it was sneaky and he didn’t have to do it at all. I was then invited to the dinner. Oh YES I want to go to the dinner! I eventually left the conference set up after about three rounds of the joint and a while sitting and reading my stuff. I took some photos on the way home and stopped by a totally random display of ‘Military Police’ on motorbikes. There were about 25 of them in red and white uniforms and they were performing stunts on their motorbikes. Like the V8 cars that do laps and fancy things in between each other in the middle of a showground. They were all of Indian descent. What the hell! It was really cool to watch – and lots of people stopped by to check it out. But – ?!?!?!?! Why? Only in Mongolia!

So I went home and did my hair in an up-do and put some pearls on to make me look a bit fancier. And then I went to the dinner. And met some amazing people. Freaking amazing. Managing Directors, CEO’s, Country Managers…. And they had such COOL things to talk about. Like converting coal to diesel in situ or in open pits with no byproducts. And drinking rice that is fermented with spit and left in the jungle for 5 years with a dead woman’s bone in it. No one cared that my name wasn’t actually ‘Natalie’ as per my name card. And everyone was so friendly! There were about 150 people there and about 10 women I’d say. I was the youngest in the room by far (okay, maybe by a couple of years). Both of which probably helped me. That plus I was ushered around by my newly made friends! (The boss of CAT in Mongolia that makes $350mil/year; the manager of a geo consulting company that offered me a job; the owner/manager of a big recruitment company in Australia who appreciated my straightforwardness; the blonde, curly haired Kazakh lady who will be my friend when she moves here soon; the managing director of a really exciting Australian exploration company)

Everyone just walked around the room and interrupted each others conversations and chatted like they knew each other for years. Most people admired the fact I’m here as a volunteer for a whole year and only going home once (I thought once was a lot!). They think I’m brave and stuff. “Why are you doing that job when you could have stayed in mining” was a common question. I made up very moral sounding answers. When I’m on a roll I think I could probably charm the socks off a donkey. The guy I admired probably the most told me that I should learn Mongolian because <insert long story about ex-employee of his that is now very wealthy>. And Mongolia is the ‘last frontier’ (true by all accounts'), which means it’s basically an amazing career handed to you on a platter. I told him that I am too lazy to learn Mongolian and that I can’t afford it. That’s when he said that I am a very straightforward person. That’s also when I wanted to swallow my fist. TELLING A POTENTIAL EMPLOYER THAT YOU’RE LAZY IS A STUPID IDEA. But that’s when he said that he admires bluntness and he attributes that to the success of his company – because he told annoying people to f-off and only took the good jobs with the good people with good morals. He said in the short term it set him back but in the long term it made him more successful.

I can tell you right here and now I was telling the truth: I am too lazy to learn Mongolian and I will not do it. I have considered it, and know how lucrative it would be. And what a good career move it would be. But there’s a buttload of reasons why I don’t want to and they start with too lazy and end with ‘I don’t want to live in Mongolia, I want a beautiful life in Australia’. And then there’s all the: I can make enough money with what I’ve got now, I would rather spend that study time studying something I love and it’s a bloody hard language to learn.

I have to get up at 5:30am tomorrow which is basically sinful in Mongolia. I have to play soccer. I can’t play soccer. Luckily I can get in the way and the rules are similar to hockey (I think). It’s midnight and I doubt I’ll sleep. I want to email all these wonderful people and say THANK you VERY MUCH. I think the excitement is threefold because I just got to spend all day looking/talking mining AND English AND Australian.

I get excited pretty easily anyway. So what I did was write down the things I remembered about each person and I have kept their business cards. And on Monday after reflection time I will email the people I think I should email and thank them, or whatever I decide to do. This way I decrease the likelihood of me sounding like an over excited little puppy. I already wore a bow in my hair today. IDIOT. Why did I do that?

Garbage

Rubbish trash garbage waste - whatever you want to call it.

It's collected in your house in plastic bags. Once your bags are full you take the bags downstairs, up the road and in to a circular concrete receptacle.The garbage truck comes regularly. They were donated by the Japanese. Once you turn them on, they play a song. There's no turning off of the song. The tune is something that I can imagine would inspire someone to kill others or jump out of a building. It is incessant. It does serve a purpose. When shops hear the garbage truck coming, they send employees running outside chasing after the garbage truck to dump their rubbish.

The trucks pull up beside the concrete receptacle and chuck the garbage in to the back of the garbage truck. Usually they have shovels but no gloves. There are a few people that work with the garbage truck. They all pitch in and chuck the garbage in to the truck. Only the garbage is no longer in bags. The homeless people get money for plastic bottles. As well they scavenge for food. The bags are generally ripped open and the rubbish just blows everywhere.

I'm not sure what happens to the rubbish once it's in the truck. In soum centres I know that they are encouraged to build proper waste disposal areas. If you could ever call waste disposal proper.

I imagine there is a dump somewhere around UB that all the rubbish is chucked in. Waste management is hardly even done well in developed nations, let alone Mongolia. It still makes me sad, and sick, and worried for the environment and the people that rely on the waste to live.

Because you are guaranteed to have your waste searched by homeless people, you can collect plastic bottles in separate bags for them. You can 'throw out' unwanted shoes and clothes knowing they're going to a bloody grateful home. You can 'throw out' unwanted food because you know the people searching through the bags will be hungry.

From now on, I'm going to make much more of an effort to collect and collate my waste in a better way. Bags of food, bags of plastic bottles. No recycling per se but it's just not the official way.

This morning I took 8 bags of rubbish (no one in our house seems to know where the concrete receptacle is) to the bin. I put it off usually because you're assured that there will either be a. homeless people or b. the garbage men at the concrete receptacle. It makes me uncomfortable to have to put down my bags of rubbish knowing someone else has to a.trawl through them to eat or b.shovel them in to a truck on my behalf.

This morning as I approached the concrete receptacle, there was a group of about 6 homeless people who had obviously just had a successful scavenge. The plastic bags were everywhere and they had rucksacks full of plastic and other useful items. As I got closer they noticed my presence and began racing towards me. I never felt scared nor did I feel unsafe at all. I felt disgusting. These people have to go through my rubbish to eat. And I have a spare room. I have a fridge full of food that will probably only half get eaten. But I can't help them.

As I carefully placed my bags down so they could easily get to them, one man said 'Tankyuu viry much' and I tripped as I wasn't expecting it. And then he said 'I am birry hungery'.

Cups and more

Above: the results of my cupping session. I don’t feel any better for it. I just feel bruised.

Today was my first day at work this week. I’ve been pretty crook and have been finding it hard not to cough. It’s not a nice cough either and it’s pretty loud. I coughed a lot at work. But I actually did a tiny bit of work. And took some photos of UB from my work building – we’re up nice and high so we have a decent vantage point. I actually am really unimpressed with the photos. Bugger. And I don’t know how to make them any better either.

Tonight we had an official function to meet the Australian Ambassador to Korea and Mongolia. He’s lovely and has quite a large entourage. He said a short, meaningless speech and we ate lots of mini canapés and drank wine. We had to mingle, which was hard because I can’t say a sentence without coughing my guts up. Which then means I have germ-ridden hands and still have to shake hands. I feel terrible and very naughty for passing on such disgusting cough germs, but I couldn’t do anything about it. Above: the Mongolian AYADs with the Mongolian Ambassador (I’m up the back on the RHS)

My workmates wanted to know why there are so many photos of my family/other people with Nate. In Mongolia, no one is in the birthing room or whatever it’s called, except for the doctor and nurses. And up to one month after the birth, no one visits the baby or mother. And the mother can’t touch anything cold (?!?). So it was weird for them to see my parents, my sister, Brad and his family all with Nate – because it just doesn’t happen here.

I made some terrible cupcakes yesterday. The beauty of living in a country where food is just sustenance is that when you provide something different, mostly it’s new – and incomparable. Which means my shitty carrot cupcakes with too much rising agent got gobbled up – they weren’t even iced!

		UB from my work window VIEW SLIDE SHOW DOWNLOAD ALL

The Macarena and Ugg boots

The Macarena was a popular dance when I was in primary school. You did the Macarena dance to the Macarena song. In Mongolia, you do the Macarena to any song that comes on at a nightclub (or anywhere else).

Ugg boots are cool. Proper Australian Ugg boots. They’re worn as trendy shoes, with them folded down as ankle boots usually. They’re worn on fancy occasions, because they’re cool. They wouldn’t be wasted as slippers or as lazy shoes to wear to the clothesline or the supermarket.

He’s HERE

I tried for three days  to upload a video. It was just me talking again, about not much in particular, and showing what I’d managed to find at the supermarket and fresh market. But alas, our internet isn’t good enough and I’m sick of trying. So you miss out on that one.

So I did go to the markets for my Sunday shop. I went to four different markets and shops to get what I needed. I was sick which made it much more of a task. Everyone was actually really lovely and a supermarket attendant hailed a taxi for me. It was awesome. And then I got home, full with the great feeling of accomplishing something big (it’s a pain in the ass to get all your groceries here) to a phone call from my little sister Ebony – Nikki’s in labour, she’s fine but she’s having a c-section.

And then a couple of hours later – HE’S HERE.

Nate Edward Curry arrived on Sunday 4th September – Fathers day no less. He’s perfect. Long arms and legs, a speckling of hair and very very loving parents. Nikki was a star by all accounts and Brad (the father) is nothing less than a champion. All involved are proud and smiley and full of so much love for this adorable little gangly kid called Nate. Oh man, that kid is gonna have some lovin’. And that’s without mentioning Brad’s side! They’re just as excited!

So we’re all happy. Nikki’s doing well and Nate’s great. Brad’s looking after them. Ebony’s taking lots of photos and sending them round. Now Tegan and I are without cuddles. It is very very hard. However, I expected to lose my shiz-nit. Seriously. I thought I’d hit the roof and be on the first plane home. I prepared myself months in advance. But now he’s here – all safe and so loved, I feel like I want to meet him BUT I don’t feel that hideous tug of homesickness I was expecting. I guess the beauty of a pregnancy is that you have warning it’s going to happen, so can prepare yourself. I can assure you I won’t be in Mongolia for the next one though.

Might I mention: Ebony did a great job. She had to look after dad, who tends to go walkabout when he gets worried (when you’re on a farm it means he could be ANYWHERE when you need him). She had to take fast phone calls from mum. She had to figure out how to call Mongolia and send on the chinese whispers to Spain where Tegan was with a phone with a very-close-to-dead-battery phone. She totally kept her cool. It was all pretty surreal too – I remember where I was when we were this excited about HER being born. And here she is, coordinating her big sister’s impending birth of the very first nephew and grandson for all.

Being a bit older (I was 8 when she was born) I understood things a bit better though. And wasn’t as perplexed at his name. I remember thinking ‘how did mum and dad come up with ‘ebony’ for a name. it’s pretty, but i’ve never heard of it’……… And then we got to eat mini sausages from a can because the family we were staying with knew we weren’t allowed them at home but we loved them. But Nate. So cool. So chic. So easy. So pronouncable and spellable. Single syllable, his middle name will be used when he gets in trouble I guess. It wouldn’t be a good name to yell in the paddock as the one sound wouldn’t carry well. But who cares. Only dog names need to be multi-syllabic (is that a word?). Nate, my nephew, only needs one and I couldn’t think of a better name myself.

Oh yeah. Nikki did a freaking awesome job but that goes without saying. And there have been nothing but high praises for Brad too. Yay for everyone, really. Mum – Mrs Supportive, Mrs Considerate, Mrs Amazing.

A lot of things have made it so much easier. The internet is a gem. Facebook was well and truely clogged up yesterday with all of us conversing together and looking at all the photos. Skype was tried a million times to no avail but everything else – including phone calls and text messages, made it really feel like I was kind-of a part of it all. Which is important. I used to think that we were just a normal family – not particularly close or anything, just functional. I’ve come to realise that’s total bullshit and we’re a much tighter family than most. I love it.

So Nate’s here and we love him. A lot. And I am counting down the days until I get home to cuddle him. And take lots of photos. Lots.

I didn’t go to work yesterday as I was basically bedridden. I was crook as a dog but it served its purpose as if I had have been at work I couldn’t have kept up with everything. There were lots of family photos, emails, facebooking…. the works. It was amazing. I didn’t go to work today either as I’m still recovering from the whole charade.

WAIT. I didn’t say: the reason I brought up the whole shopping saga was because I thought I’d accomplished a lot by getting my groceries. Nikki totally trumped me. While I was finding muesli bars (hoooorah) and buying fresh vegies, she was in labour. And when I was watching tv because I made myself sicker by going shopping, she was getting cut open to deliver Nate.

This afternoon I went to a traditional medicine guy. He does a bunch of different things like massage, cups and…… who knows what else. After my researching the other day on bloodletting (let’s just say I won’t be having it done) I was a bit wary. This place probably practices bloodletting. But it was still great. The guy is lovely and super freaking knowledgeable. Apparently my organs are all very good. Good.

My  two friends went in to have their acupuncture while I waited my turn. There’s no waiting room per se, just a couple of stools and a wash basin (it’s okay mum, I only had a massage).While I was waiting on my stool at the doctor’s desk, a guy walked in with a syringe and some medicine. A nurse came out, drew the medicine from the thingy very slowly and without much grace and gave it a flick. The guy came over to stand next to me, dropped his daks, braced himself on the desk and let the nurse jab the needle in his bum.

GOOD LORD

She was very careful with the needle – to keep it clean. But that’s about it. I was relieved to just be having a massage. They put this hot lamp on my back which I thought was great because with my cold it made it really easy to breathe. I made a joke of my friend who had these massive glass jars vacuumed on to her back. She was gonna have epic bruises. And then they put them on ME. Oh man. I felt like a turtle. 8 very large glass jars sucking my skin into the vacuum they create by warming your skin. Bloody hell. I’ve had cups once before and they have done bugger all to make the bruises worth while.

Anyway. I’ve got epic bruises now too. I’ll take a photo tomorrow to show you.

I was a bit naughty today and ate out twice. I’m not well enough to trust myself cooking with hot things. So French bistro and creperie it was. At dinner four Aussies were chatting about work. I stayed a lot longer than necessary because I loved listening to their accents and their conversation. Call me a stalker, but you gotta take what you can get here! Any familiarity is welcome.

So, two months until I take Nate his play mat. Two months until I cuddle him and hi-5 Brad and squeeze Nikki til she can’t breathe. Two months til Ebony and I take lots of lomo photos and two months until Tegan and I inevitably fight about something/s stupid. That’s not long.

xoxoxox