Homesick

One of the obvious difficulties about living so far away from home is that life somehow carries on without you. Hard to fathom, I know. For me, this isn't generally a problem. I actually have to make quite an effort to remember to call home to talk. It's not that I don't love Sarnia or my family, I'm just usually wrapped up in my life here that I forget to remember the good things about being home. I've always taken for granted that when I want to return (say... once a year) I will get to come home and enjoy it for a few weeks.

This year a little wrench or two got thrown into the mix. First off, I wasn't home for the birth of my first nephew. I was too busy enjoying a two-week vacation in Europe. (Did I just call my newborn nephew a wrench?) I tried to make up for it by mailing him his first ever piece of mail. So now he's got a postcard of Barcelona, mailed from London. This was all fine and dandy as my plan was to come home and spend as much time with him as I could.

I was handling that just fine, but now I'm missing out on attending my little sister's wedding. We all knew I wouldn't be able to make it back for a February wedding - I mean, how do you fit a wedding in when you do a tour of the Gobi desert, spend Christmas vacation travelling through England, Paris and Barcelona, and have booked a trip to Boracay in the Philippines? We've made the necessary arrangements to have me participate in the festivities. They acquired a mannequin, I filmed a speech, I booked a sick day (homesick has the word "sick" in it, so it counts), and the video link is... well... a work in progress. As I write this, the wedding is in its final preparatory stages, but will (knock on wood) be a resounding success by the time you are reading it.

This brings me to a randomly and loosely connected point. What is Family Day? I only know of this "holiday" because my sister choose it for her wedding day. I have only been gone from Canada for the past 18 months and already the country doesn't even celebrate the same holidays. Seriously though, what is Family Day? As I am a man of no country - Revenue Canada has declared me an emigrant, however; I have not immigrated to any other country - I get left out of the loop a little bit. What traditional celebrations take place? Are there online contests to create Family Day traditions? Seriously!! I have no idea what this holiday is all about (or why they had to choose a day so close to Valentine's Day).

To return to my original train of thought, I miss home. I miss my family, I miss my friends and I miss having snow when it gets cold. It wouldn't be so bad if I could spend time at home this summer, but since I'm moving on from Mongolia in June, I'll be starting a new job just 13 days after this one ends, and I have to travel travel to Canada and all the way to Indonesia in that time. Wait a second, why am I complaining? I'm moving to Indonesia.

My friends and family should be coming to visit me.

Staying Warm

I cannot begin to explain how insanely cold it has been in Mongolia for the past week or so. As I write this, the temperature is -26, which is not the low for the day. We managed to get to a high of -21 today. There have been numerous occasions recently where it was below -30... and that's before factoring in the wind chill.

Sadly, the problem with such cold temperatures is that we don't get any snow. We have a grand total of about 1 inch of snow, and that is the accumulation of every snowfall since our first of the year in early October. It just seems so unfair that we get all the cold, but none of the good stuff that comes with cold, namely, snow.

How to Support Your National Economy

I kid you not, every word of this is true.

A couple of weeks ago, a rather large group of us went off to celebrate a colleague's upcoming birthday. We spent days preparing and somehow kept it secret. We departed at 9:00 with a full bus and travelled about 50 km to destination.

Finally, we arrived for one of the most highly anticipated moments in my life. We all sat around waiting eagerly when we heard the thunderous motor start up and the creaking metal hull of a 1980s T-54 Soviet tank came out from behind the rather easily penetrable wall. That's right, a tank. We we not here to just look at this tank, no, we were here to DRIVE this tank.

How does one drive a tank? First you need to have a friend. This friend needs to be close, personal friends with a minister of defense. This minister of defense should ideally be in a developing country. This developing country should have little money for national defence. You should have about $200 of disposable cash. And finally, you need to know how to drive a stick shift.

I, of course, do NOT know how to drive a stick shift. Yes, my dad gave me one lesson a couple of years ago, but I really did not know what I was doing. Also, tanks don't have steering wheels. They have two levers. one for turning right and one for turning left. As I was faking knowing how to drive a stick shift, I quickly realized that I only have two hands, but three levers to manoeuvre. As I got in, I was told that it needs a good amount of gas for it not to stall. Keeping this in mind, I hammered the gas as I lifted off the clutch (and I didn't even stall it). The result of this? I managed to do a peelout in a tank. To put this in perspective, tanks are specifically designed to not have this happen. Their treads are designed for maximum traction, and we were on a dirt road. One other thing to keep in mind, tanks don't have windscreens. You watch where you are going by peering through a single one-by-four inch periscope. Talk about blind spots.

While we were driving along this remote and secluded road, we of course encountered a passing car. I couldn't help but wonder what would be my first thoughts when I saw a rather large weapon driving toward me, clearly being piloted by people who were not even remotely qualified to operate it.

As if driving a tank wasn't enough, we felt it necessary to shoot multiple firearms. Now, I'm not a gun enthusiast, nor do I support gun violence, so let's just call this.... firearm entertainment. I opted out of the rapid-fire machine gun, but to be honest it did look like a lot of fun. I first chose to fire eight rounds from a 9mm Makarov Pistol at a distance of about 20 feet. The fake guy (read target) I was firing at, was not likely very impressed. My first round was awfully errant, and I was clearly not ready for that much recoil. Of my next six shots, I managed to hit his ear, and wing him in the shoulder. With one shot left, I really angered this fake guy. You know that little button on top of ball caps? If he was wearing one, I would have hit that, and not his head. This is also where a metal crossbar happened to be, so the bullet ricocheted half way back to me.

Next up, the AK47. Surprisingly, the handgun makes more noise. I got 30 rounds, and managed to not hit a single target (all of which were 200 to 500 feet away). After finishing my turn, I asked my good friend Jeff to take a picture of me. Not thinking that I had just finished firing this weapon, i allowed my hand to grab the barrel. Bad idea. Not that it's a huge surprise, but those barrels get hot. I mean burn-your-hand-instantly kind of hot.

Finally I got my chance at the one weapon I truly wanted to fire - the Dragonov Sniper Rifle. Not to brag, but I did hit 2 targets in my ten rounds. Once again my arch nemesis, recoil, got me again. This recoil was not like the pistol. This rifle kicks back about 4 inches, allowing it to hit me right in the eye.

To cap off our day, one of group decided to splurge and pay to fire an RPG. I learned that RPG stands for rocket powered grenade. And rocket powered it is. This thing has such a punch that there is a shockwave that is strong enough to knock people over that are standing 20 feet away!

What is clearly important to remember about this whole trip is that it was a humanitarian outing. We can't just let the Russians or the Chinese invade our Mongolian friends. So it is our duty to drive their tanks and shoot their guns to help fund their military.

Da da da da duh. Da da da da duuh.

Firing the Dragonov Rifle

The RPG

Going For A Ride

I am quite proud of the fact that in my 27 years on this planet, the closest I have come to owning a car was when I rented one for 2 weeks this past summer. Unfortunately, lacking such a possession means that transportation can be a bit of an issue at times. Since my apartment is on the southern-most part of the city, getting into or out of town can be a bit of an adventure. Here, I shall break down most of the possible options.

Option 1: The Heel-Toe Express

This mode of transportation is possibly the most reliable. It is a much better option when walking from home to town, as the entire trip is downhill. Although, if returning home by walking, it is possible to enjoy a nice tall can of adult beverage along the way, as drinking in public is hardly discouraged. This mode of transportation has a few downfalls, however. It is usually the slowest way to get from one place to another, taking approximately one hour. If that weren't enough, there are more than a few of what you can call potholes, but I prefer the term craters (also, at least two holes in the sidewalk that crosses the bridge over the Tuul River). Finally, walking is really limited to the May-September range, as temperatures start to dip below freezing in October, and drop well below -35 in the winter.

Option 2: The Bus

The bus has one splendid advantage, it costs 400 Tugrug (about 37 cents) to ride. The ride is heated in the winter, and one doesn't have to walk. There are a few general drawbacks to the bus. Not the least of which is that you are so packed in, you begin to envy a canned sardine for the amount of space allotted to it. There are two types of bus rides in Ulaanbaatar. I dub the first of these "The Dead Mule". This ride takes so long it can actually be faster to walk.... seriously. the bus runs mostly on the power of gravity, which doesn't help very much when it takes frequent breaks for up to 5 min. to wait for every possible passenger, even though there's another bus just 150 meters behind. The second type of bus ride is known as the "Bat Out of Hell" ride. This driver has a death wish, passing every car on the road, and failing to even come to a complete stop at any of it's scheduled bus stops. I have twice been on a bus that had to detour to a gas station, and even once had to help push the bus to get there.

Of course, buses aren't nearly as well organized in Ulaanbaatar as, say, anywhere in North America. To begin with, there is no maximum capacity. I have had, much to my dismay on several occasions, another individual sit on my lap, or decide to have me hold their item (parcel, box, giant bag of firewood, etc.). Also, you don't exactly pay as you get on the bus. You simply board the bus, and wait for someone to come and collect your toll. Also, if you have to transfer, that will cost you an additional 400 tugrug.

Option 3: The Real Taxi

There are 2 types of taxis here. The metered taxi (Real Taxi) and then there's the fake taxi... I'll get to that in a minute.

A metered taxi is actually one of the worst possible options for someone who lives here. If you are visiting, not such a bad choice. I have not yet met a real taxi driver who speaks a lick of English. Thankfully, I have learned a limited amount of Mongolian. Unfortunately, as a foreigner, I get charged the White Man's price. This is roughly 5 times the cost that a Mongolian would get charged. On the plus side, they do actually take the best possible route, and know where pretty much anything is. Also they are excellent drivers, and handle the chaotic traffic with immense skill.

Option 4: The Fake Taxi

This is my preferred means of transportation. To be clear, a fake taxi is not a taxi at all. It is actually just some random individual who decides to give you a ride in exchange for money. This is a much cheaper option than a real taxi. To hail a fake taxi, one simply has to stand at the side of the road, and put their arm out. Remember to keep you arm below your shoulder or no one will stop.

Predicting who will pick you up is not an exact science, but over time you start to see some probabilities. The more expensive a car is, the less likely you are to be picked up. Rarely a car with two occupants will ever stop. The less likely a vehicle is to survive the next bump in the road (and there are many), the greater your chances are to have a ride. I have on several occasions been in a car that has run out of gas just a couple of blocks from where I got in. These are not hard and fast rules, as I have been in several Mercedes, and relatively new Honda.... um I'm not sure what the name of them are, but they are about the size and shape of a refrigerator box. There's also a bit of a guessing game. AS we are often out in groups of 3 or more, someone has to take the front seat. As the person who tends to speak and understand Mongolian the best of my compadres, guess who gets this privilege. Since all cars are imported directly from another country, many of the vehicles come from the roads of Japan. Mongolians don't drive on the left side of the road, so this means jumping into traffic to enter the car.

I have met many an excellent driver who gets us to our destination without incident or fear for my life. Many are very honest about the cost of the ride (about 45 cents/km). On the other hand there is a completely different type of driver. This driver is in a big rush. Somehow they always seem to drive some sort of Japanese car, which is a very important aspect to this ride. Let me draw you a picture.

You get into the car (in traffic since the door is on the left side of the car). You discover the driver speaks a decent amount of English, as many young people do. This is of little advantage once the ride begins. The driver slams the gas pedal to the floor, crushing you into the the soft faux-fur seat cover. All of a sudden, you start thinking about every mistake you ever made in life., and how this seems to be your punishment for the collection. There is no longer anything that resembles a rule of the road. Finally you see a red light coming, and think "Here's my chance to get out." No dice. He's not stopping. He pushes his way through the cross traffic, which is moving at a whopping 4 km/h. After you think you need to replace your pants for the fourth time, it gets better. The driver starts entering oncoming traffic.... at 70 km/h. Of course, only half of the car is actually in oncoming traffic, as a 2 lane artery can accommodate up to 3.5 cars across... apparently the lines are only there to show the direction of traffic. The most terrifying part of half of the car going into the wrong lane of traffic is that it is YOUR side of the car that is facing the rushing automobiles. Just when you thought you could take no more, he starts making left or right hand turns across 2 lanes of traffic without even slowing down. When you finally arrive at your destination, you are prepared to pay just about anything for him delivering you alive. I love these rides.

On a side note, a friend has asked that I mention that we had to cancel recess at school due to an invasion of horses.

Hustai

This past weekend, a group of us went out to Hustai National park to see the wild Przewalski (one of the most difficult words to spell in the world) horses. The park is located about 100km west of Ulaanbaatar, yet the drive is close to two and a half hours. It was a nice change of pace to get out of the city and experience some of the Mongolia I truly love. It was also our first trip out of the city this year. Thankfully, we got it in before the snow came.

We arrived and promptly ate a lunch with large pieces of fat in it. After this, our driver burned through the park in an apparent attempt to prevent any of us from seeing anything. When we finally did stop, we watched 6 wild horses stand and graze. Not exactly the exciting adventure we were promised. We returned to the tourist camp at the gate, and a few of us decided to go for a ride on the horses.

Here are a few pictures and videos from the excursion:

Paul, the intrepid nature photographer

Jen on her not-so-high horse.

The Wild horses Mongolian Traffic Jam

Paul was forbidden from driving his own horse.

Me Fail English? That's Unpossible!

As some of you may be aware, I am in Mongolia, teaching at an English language school. While few of my entries focus on things that deal directly with my teaching experiences, I have decided to make an exception.

For a little background, I teach a 2nd Grade class of 21 students. As with many international teaching positions, the student whom I teach have a fairly tenuous grasp of the English language. An unfortunate side effect of this is that my own abilities in speaking English have slipped somewhat.

Since many of my students are rather... active, I often find myself having to redirect their attention. The other day, during one of our activities, I found one of my students doing some bizarre combination of a somersault and a headstand. In response, I asked the child (with no exaggeration) "Who is your doing?"

Allow me to break do this question for you.

Who: In English, a word often used to ask about which person is being referenced. In this context, it is used to mean "the thing in question." Normally, one might opt to use the word WHAT in its place.

Is: A word that implies existence in a third party. Here, it is used in a similar context, but in a second party reference. One may normally select the word ARE in a sentence such as this.

Your: Almost exclusively used to imply possession by you. In this instance, it is designed to create a second person as the object of the sentence. I suppose the word YOU may be better qualified for this sentence.

Doing: The only word in the question that is used correctly, however, it seems to carry a slightly irregular meaning do to the choice of the previous three words.

Sadly, these experiences seem to be increasing in frequency, which may or may not defeat the purpose of instructing the students in English. It also seems that the meanings of my sentences are becoming far more ambiguous. I can only hope that in the future, I can correctly use a higher percentage of the words in my sentences. At least I got 1 out of 4 right.... 25%.... not the greatest success rate.

Taking Care of Tasks, Getting a Big Treat

I arrived back in Ulaanbaatar on Wednesday afternoon, following a brief stay in Japan (story coming on my international blog). After a few days of getting to know my new comrades, the miniature adventures have, once again, begun.

Today, Jeff (an old roommate of my brother), Jonny and I set off into town to try to pick up a few items. We first needed to get a new battery for Jen's (Jeff's wife) phone. She bought the phone just the day before, but somehow she managed to use up the entire battery in a few short hours. Having accomplished task #1, we set off to find a wireless router. Not as easy as it should be. It seems that Computerland decided not to be open today. Task #2 resulted in failure. We decided that maybe 11:30 was simply too early for Mongolians (a reasonable option) and we should eat before trying Computerland again. We started looking for a decent place to eat when I saw a rundown looking place called "Restaurant World". I asked if they were up for a small adventure and they agreed. We stepped into the restaurant and it was like stepping into a four star restaurant. It was beautiful. We glanced at the menu to see that the prices were extremely inexpensive. We had some fantastic meals (Jeff even got his vegetarian dish without any meat), paid up and set out again for Computerland. Task #3, a resounding success. We arrived back at Computerland to realize that not only we, but several Mongolians were surprised to find it closed for the day. Task #2.... failure... again.

Finally, we set off for the State Department Store, found most of the items we needed, and set out for our final task. Task #4, a moderate success. We stepped out of the department store to find the relative quiet day had become quite busy. There was a Mongolian competing for gold in boxing, and it seems that everyone had come to this spot to watch the bout as there is an enormous television screen across the street. I now turn the story over to Jeff, reporting from the front of State Department Store in Ulaanbaatar, Mongolia.



Jeff Eng, in his inaugural field report for ASUTV (American School of Ulaanbaatar Television). Be sure to catch future reports.