Mongolian Independence Day Weekend

It was a fairly exciting weekend. Saturday found Naomi, Maureen and I taking a hike up one of the smaller nearby mountains. As Maureen has some difficulty with ledges, it was a fairly momentous occasion for her to get to the top. She did occasionally have to ask for a little help. That night, some of the staff attended a get-together at the nearby house of some parents from South Africa. The people are amazing, and we were treated to plenty of hamburgers, soup, salad, popcorn and, of course, alcohol.

Sunday, the excitement increased slightly, as Dan and I decided to climb a significantly taller mountain. Deciding that warmth was more important than grip, I wore my new riding boots, which are hand-made with Mongolian leather and have a felt liner on the inside. They, unfortunately have little grip on the soles, and I found my feet sliding a little more than I had hoped. Nonetheless, we made it to the top, and travelled along the ridge to the largest ovoo I have seen so far. While there, we met a Mongolian soldier, named Erdenbileg, who was going to be leaving for Sierra Leone in a month to go to war (I didn't know Mongolia was at war with anyone, let alone a West African country). We found that he had daughters of 16 and 18, and would be gone for 5 months. He asked us to join him in his prayer, lighting incense, and walking around the ovoo. It was a great honour to be asked by this complete stranger to literally pray for his life. After some time with him, we parted ways with some excited good-byes, and started making our way down the mountain. On the way down, Dan fell a couple of times, whereas I... fell down the mountain. Not in a head-over-heels, movie-esque way, but I was definitely on my ass more than on my feet. It didn't take long to realize that the lack of grip on my boots allowed for a form of tobogganing, with one foot under me, and one in front to avoid crashing into any hidden rocks, any visible rocks, and even more importantly, any trees that were in my way. This was mostly successful, with a use of my hands to aid with steering, and I found myself travelling 60 or more feet at a time, with a single push (luge-style) with my hands.

Monday, I went shopping on my own for some groceries, only to find that almost all of the stores that I wanted to have open, were pretty much the only ones that were closed that day. After finding about 10% of the items I set out for, I hailed a fake-cab, and got a ride home. On the way home, I found out the guy grew up a few doors away from where the school is, but even more remarkably, he lived in Canada. He asked where I was from, so I responded "Ontario." He then mentioned that he went to the University of Western Ontario. As the conversation progressed, I found out that he lived in the same apartment building that I lived in, just three apartments down the hall, but a few years before. I think this falls into the "extremely small world" category. That afternoon, some of us went to the Mongolian wrestling tournament.

Mongolian wrestling is an interesting sport. There are no weight classes, and it seems that the lightest fighters get matched up against the largest in the first round. There are about 15 matches at a time (although only about 7 referees, and I use that term loosely). They are not constrained by any sort of ring, and matches often run into one another. There is a surprising level of gentlemanly conduct involved. The costumes are just as odd, as the fighters wear tight briefs and an open jacket. Legend holds that some time, centuries ago, a female sneaked into a tournament, managed to win, then bared her breasts to everyone, so now the jacket is designed to show that the competitors are male... or at least don't have breasts. I have no idea who won, but some of the matches took seconds to end, while others took as long as 1/2 hr.

All-in-all, a wonderful long weekend. Oh, and Glen, this is waaaayy better than your WWE.