Being Kept in the Dark

One of the the bigger drawbacks to living in a developing country, and Mongolia in particular, is the sporadic and sometimes even frequent loss of electricity. Now, we have all experienced power failures at one point or another. There is one small difference between a power shortage in Canada and one in Mongolia. In Canada, power outages occur because of inclement weather or because of a problem with a transformer, power line, or payment ability. In any of these cases, power problems are often predictable and cleared up quickly. Here, power outages happen regularly at unpredictable times and for unknown lengths of time. Worst of all, there is rarely any warning and they tend to happen to happen at some of the least convenient times, like around 4 o'clock in the afternoon, when I'm trying to do work and haven't quite gotten around to preparing for dinner.

Typically, these power outages last anywhere from three minutes (just long enough to frustrate you) to three days (just long enough to make you very poor), with an average of maybe 4 hours. Of course this doesn't apply to everyone here. Those who live in the heart of Ulaanbaatar rarely suffer this plight. Those of us who live on the outskirts agonize through the possibility of it happening at any time on any day. There is, of course a forgotten third group: those who live in towns outside of Ulaanbaatar. Unfortunately for these poor souls, their electricity is provided by Russia... but only for select periods of time. It is not uncommon for the whole town to have their power turned off for the night at 10 o'clock or earlier.

I must say, the latter group has one advantage over the rest of us - no indoor plumbing. How is this an advantage? (And I'm certain you asked). Now, to be frank, I don't fully understand Soviet engineering, but somehow they seem to have made every utility system completely dependent on the power plants. As a result, when the electricity goes out (and I'm still not convinced that it isn't some guy just randomly pushing buttons), I also lose the internet, water (except for the one flush left behind in the toilet - choose carefully), and in the middle of the frigidly cold winter, heat. This makes for a very dull and poorly lit night and on occasion, a rather cold one too. Suddenly, having a wood or coal burning stove in a felt tent with an outhouse somewhere nearby can seem very desirable. Especially when the power outage lasts more than a few hours.

The inconveniences really depend on the time of the outage too. An early morning outage means that an electric alarm clock won't work, so it is no longer a viable option. I now rely on a combination of a battery powered clock, my cell phone and a watch that is slowly gaining time. And have you ever tried to get ready for work with absolutely no running water? Trust me, not an easy task... although you're ready much more quickly. A shortage anywhere from eight o'clock in the morning to four o'clock in the afternoon means I have to try teaching with no electronic resources and no lights. As I mentioned, the water stops working, so this causes some interesting... problems in the washrooms. The other option is to lose power in the evening (not that we really have an option in the matter). This is particularly fun because i mean that the loss of power actually costs me money. Since I can't cook with my electric stove, nor is there any water available (and most meals require water in one way or another) and we don't have a barbecue on the premises, I (and everyone else) now has to order food for delivery. There is the other choice to go into town where they have power, but bear in mind that it gets dark here just before four o'clock in the winter, and walking in the dark and cold at that time is rarely an attractive option.

I like to believe that this hardship is forced upon me in the spirit of environmentalism. I know this isn't likely because few people here even consider putting their garbage in anything that resembles a receptacle designed for such a purpose. Still I kid myself. I mean, with the frequency of power outages and the areas they affect, they must be saving millions (of tugrug, not dollars). As one of my many affluent neighbours commented to me some time ago, "You can spend [an absurd amount of money] on a home and that doesn't even guarantee that you'll have electricity." Maybe not, but it makes me appreciate the little amenities in life a little more.

Free Agency

This column will strike a chord with sports fans more than others.

As a sports fan myself, one thing I've always struggled with is the concept of free-agency. It doesn't seem so long ago that when a professional athlete signed on with a team, that was the place he would remain until they no longer had a use for him. In recent years we have seen many a player change teams for reasons we assume to be money.

As a non-athlete, I seem to be in a fairly unique situation where I have the opportunity to experience free agency. As an international teacher, I sign contracts for anywhere from 1-3 years at a time. As my contract comes up, I, like many professional athletes, feel the need to look into my options. This isn't to say that I'm giving up on where I am at the time. I recently signed a contract to work in Indonesia for two years. I was both ecstatic and gutted to have signed that contract. Gutted because I love Mongolia. It's people, culture and way of life still fascinate me. Leaving would inevitably result in cutting short this opening chapter into my life abroad. With that in mind, I am ecstatic because it is a new adventure. A place I don't know yet and will have the amazing opportunity to experience something new. With those things being a trade-off, I had to look at the other factors. There are a few that really tipped the balance toward moving to Indonesia. This opportunity will give me the chance to reunite and work with one of my best friends again. That is a factor that is amongst the most important. (didn't Scott Niedermayer sign on with the Ducks for basically that same reason?) Beyond that there are many perks, like getting to own a moped, and drive it year-round. The money is better, and I have better health coverage--something I actually have to worry about, both because I don't have a universal health-care system and because I tend to take risks that could leave me seriously injured. A last, but not least, rather than a single-bedroom apartment, I will be given my own two-bedroom house--perfect for parking my eventual fleet of mopeds and motorbikes.

As with professional athletes, some people are displeased with a decision to leave. For an athlete, the worst comes from the fans. Inevitably any player who chooses to leave one team for another becomes hated by the fans of his former team. For me, things aren't quite so bad. My "fans" are the 22 seven and eight-year-olds in my class, and to a lesser degree the other students I have come to know well in the school. Instead of receiving boos and verbal jabs from my fans and the media, I have to receive daily pleas and petitions for me to change my mind and stay.

What I'm trying to say is, I'm not leaving because I want out. I'm leaving because I see a better opportunity somewhere else. Don't feel bad professional athletes. I, as an average guy, understand why you choose free agency. And I get it, someday, signing back home just might be the thing I want the most. I wouldn't mind one of those multi-million dollar contracts though.