I’ve been in Ulaanbaatar, Mongolia for almost a month now. So far it’s been a special experience. Everything I read or heard about Mongolia doesn’t count for the capital. You can get almost anything you want, although some items may be somewhat expensive. Since a couple of years ago more and more restaurants, cafes and shops with western food and ingredients popped up. Although the temperature doesn’t quite allow it yet, outside seatings are open. There’s a “poolcellar” on almost every corner, but I’ve only seen schoolkids there.

Ulaanbaatar feels very western because of the Russian influences and the fact that they doen’t want to be compared or confused with Chinese. The buildings look Eastern european and pretty sad, with paint falling off, even in the richer parts of town. The sidewalks are all messed up and stop once in a while for a couple of holes in the ground and sewer systems. Bringing a pocket light at night is no luxery! Also, don’t be surprised to see a little kid crowling out of one of those holes or garbarge containers. I’ve seen it only once, but aparently there’s a whole community living underground.

A good thing about this country is that westerers are left alone. Bothering and following tourists is only done by some streetkids who usually give up after you say “no” once. All Mongolians I’ve met are really nice, and although their English is as bad as my Mongolian, they always try to help. The problem with the language here is that I can’t read cyrillic and I can distinguish only a couple of word. But I am learning! “My new friend” (as she calls me) Byamba teaches me Mongolian in exchange for English lessons (and some meals).

The first time I really felt I was in Mongola, was when we made a trip to the country side. Hulan, our contactperson here, knows a Kazach family in Tsagaanuur who were happy to have four geeks in their house for a weekend. After a five hour drive on reasonably kept highway, we suddenly made a turn on a bumpy and sandy road that led us to the village. Along the way horses, sheep, cows and camels were grazing next to the road or crossing it. There are “ovoos” everywhere. It’s a pile of rocks in the shape of a pyramide. Only a blue scarf let’s you know it’s a holy pile of rocks instead of garbage. It’s a sjaman ritual to walk around it three times and make an offer. Anything is good: a handful of sand, a rock or an empty bottle of vodka.

We arrived at ten at night (instead of seven o’clock like we were supposed to, but Mongolians don’t pay that much attention to time). We already ate, but the moment we stepped in, all sorts of food was placed on the table. Sausage, pickles and bread are favorites. And like we were supposed to, we gave a bottle of vodka to the owner of the house who opened it, made an offer to the fire en poured us some shots. If you don’t get shots, you get a small bowl and when offered, you have to dip your ring finger in the vodka and flick some drops to the air, the wind and the mountains. Not more, because vodka is holy as well. After you take a sip, you give the bolw back to the person who gave it to you, never pass it on!

The next morning we drove around in the luxurious Japanese jeep we came with. I still don’t understand why they spend more money on a car than their house, where there’s only one tap with cold water and the toilet (hole in the ground) is in a far away corner of the garden. But the landscape is just amazing and I can’t wait for it to be summer and everyting will be green instead of dry and barren like it is now. The wheather is kind of crazy here. It can snow in the morning and be really pleasant in the afternoon.

The Mongolians are terribly paranoid about SARS. They keep saying they can’t afford to loose anyone, since they only have 2,5 million people. When the first case arrived from Inner Mongolia, the whole city walked around with a mask, and I had to get one to, because I couldn’t enter the building where I work without one. After a while, the fear disappeared, but today the guy at the front desk was screaming “MASK, MASK!!” again, so I put in on for show. It’s not like it really helps if you don’t wear gloves as well. Besides, when we are all eating in the small cantine, everybody takes their masks off. This whole SARS thing is really bad for the local economy as everything closes at ten p.m. and all shows and entertainment is postponed.

Working here is a bit frustrating. In the beginning I thought I’d have nothing to do, but now that I’ve seen some more of their work, I don’t even know where to start explaining. One designer in particular just sucks. We were working on a brochure for an aimag (province) and I was really happy that my “boss” agreed we should start over.

Last but not least: vodka vodka vodka. They can’t get enough of it here and the State Department Store sells close to 50 different types.

Oh, and I saw a boxing kangaroo (!!) in the Russian circus that was in town, just before SARS was a problem.


More next time! (i am already happy this is finally online.)