Burden In My Hand

Travel in Mongolia SUCKS! It hurts, especially if you are tall. I came in straight from Ulaanbaatar some weeks ago to my village down in Dundgobi by way of 5-seater jeep. Guess how many people actually were in it? 16. It was supposed to be a ~12 hour ride.

So we leave 05:30. The jeep busts two tires and the engine dies at the only [food] stop in the middle of nowhere. We eat and wait a few hours. We hire another driver and get on our way late afternoon. This jeep gets a flat. Then the driver gets lost. The compass and map have yet to be invented. So it's midnight and we should have been there already. You can't navigate in the dark so we all pile into a herder's ger and spend the night. We find our way home the next morning. Being like a sardine in a can killed my back the next day. All the while, I am sitting next to a presumably gay teenager who won't stop trying to put his hand on my genitals. I was infuriated. I have no problem being friends with gay people and hanging out, just don't be fondling me.

And now this trip to the 3 day music festival. It actually wasn't so bad because it was "only" 9 of us and it was great company which meant great fun and laughs. An axle or something broke two hours out and luckily we had a piece of wood (initially for the tent) we sawed and used to uphold the vehicle until we made it to the next village. Then we borrowed a friend's axle and went on our way. Mongolians are very good at MacGyverism, they can widdle their way out of so many things. On our trip back, the car kept choking and our driver kept hammering away at the thing and somehow we managed to get home after many stops. Oh, and occasionally somebody has a bottle of vodka...so yeah, that part about drowning yourself in alcohol in the desert...'tis true.

"...follow me into the desert as thirsty as you are,

crack a smile and cut your mouth and drown in alcohol,

'cause down below the truth is lying beneath the riverbed,

so quench yourself and drink the water that flows below her head..."

The Roar of the Horse's Hooves

No its not the four horsemen...its a music festival. It has been going on for some time now and consists of Mongolian and non-Mongolian performers. It was held at их газрийн чулуу (Great Rocks) this year. The stage was built last year and resembles Colorado's Red Rocks. There was also a long song наадам (celebration). UNESCO has declared the long song and throat song as world heritage events.

'Twas 3 days of hangin' out. A dozen or so foreign musicians/academics were present. Two Swiss women played the bass flute and tiny keyboard-thing, a German with wild hair and no shoes played the tuba, a dude from Taiwan played some percussion and a Lithuanian played some flute-type thing amongst others. Mongols played the horse fiddle, sang the long song and danced. 9 of us from our village came in by 5-seater jeep (9 is a low number). The event was covered by TV & radio. I listened to the long song from 05:00 to 01:00 every day, as people practiced in their tents. I don't think I can listen to the long song again until next year.

At sunrise (04:30), we gathered at the top of a hill where a rock and white space-like thing stands to commemorate a famous singer from around these here parts. The musicians played 2 songs and then we went over to a pile of rocks called an овоо where a shaman performed a ceremony. Mongolia's main religion is Buddhism but some still practice shamanism.

A friend recently made a horse fiddle for me and my goal is to play at the event next year. I met a fiddler (above center) who is in the theater group in my province's capital so I can pick up a few pointers. All in all; good company, good music and good times.

The Mongolia Effect

So I lied, the storms remain. Sandblasted I was while socializing in the town center. Couldn’t see a thing in the sand shower. One year has passed since I went into exile. How many people actually know what “Mongolia” is? Certainly not my Chicago 8^th graders I visited prior to departure. Nor doth Newsweek, having mentioned in its May 14^th “travel issue” Tuva as being located on the Russian-Chinese border. No surprise. Actually, the place seems to be doing quite well for itself. UB, at least. There is some type of boom or growth coming along. Tourists are flooding the place. I’ve even hosted the French and Germans in my ger. The city is a mix of people.

I’ve lived along the same line of latitude all my life (39?), making a giant step east each time: Chicago, Zadar (2000 year old Croat peninsula) and the Gobi (Mongolia). It’s definitely a good day to be alive. But what have I learned?

• One can have padded city pockets and be unhappy.

• One can have Bohemian desert pockets and be in love with life.

• It’s ok to say no when a Mongol offers you vodka. But then you’re not really experiencing the culture.

• Too much airag, milk tea, camel milk, vodka, homemade vodka, beer, homemade fruit beer, mutton, mutton fat, candy and cookies digested simultaneously are not a good thing.

• People are not radically different around the world. The landscape is, the food is, the music is…but not the essential content of that music.
  

In two weeks I head for a long summer on the majestic coastline of Croatia. I feel like that song, where I can make my way home blindfolded. Some have joked that I may not return. I’ve had doubts myself. Maybe the fever will go away. Yet I’m never one to quit something that has been started.