Horses grazing in the countryside!
A shot from a car window on an April trip to Hovsgol province in northern Mongolia. Stay tuned for an upcoming post about the US Embassy-organized outreach trip to visit rural schools!
Sainshand, The East Gobi
After a nighttime train ride with little sleep, my friends and I arrived at the Sainshand train station around 1 am. (A short stop along the Trans Siberian railroad, the arrival and departure times here aren’t always convenient.) With the help of our Mongolian friends, one of whom also works as a guide, we rendezvoused with our driver. The stout baseball-cap wearing Mongol drove us the roughly 30 kilometers from the capital “city” of Dornogovi province to Khamariin Khiid, a series of restored Buddhist monasteries in the vast desert of the East Gobi.
Exhausted from the noisy train ride filled with activity from exuberant children, drunk men, and amorous middle-aged couples in the public berths, we rested for two hours in a toasty ger, or yurt, with a roaring fire in the central stove. We awoke to our alarms just before daybreak and searched for our guide to take us to “wishing mountain” nearby, the must-see spot to see the sunrise. Due to our guide being nowhere in sight and refusing to answer phone calls, we marched out into the freezing windy desert and headed east towards to find our own view. And, slightly disappointed but still cheery, a view we found!
Intrepid sunrise-seekers battle the fierce late-April winds.
Yes, it’s early…
But worth it! Beautiful lighting.
Two restored monasteries in the foreground, with a Buddhist shrine, a stupa, nearby.
After catching some rays of sunlight, we walked back to the ger where we slept for a couple hours, breakfasted on snacks and coffee we brought, and embarked on our day tour with our slightly sheepish guide (who may have slept through his alarm and our calls!)
The sight of the first Mongolian theater, planned for reconstruction, and home of famous nineteenth century playwright and lama, Danzanravjaa.
However, the tour was worth it! While our guide didn’t speak English, our friends translated for us, revealing he was very knowledgeable!
A famous shrine, this nearby monument is especially important for women hoping to become or those already pregnant. This double stupa is intentionally shaped liked gigantic breasts and has been entirely covered in layers of dairy products and vodka. Women make offerings of milk in the windy morning.
As you can tell from the large puddle of milk, there were a LOT of women who came to pay their respects that morning. Men are encouraged to circle the shrine three times, but are not allowed to make offerings.
Last time I visited three years ago, facilities like trash cans and proper roads were non-existent.
This road connecting various remote sights in the East Gobi was reportedly funded by the United States government as part of a Millennium Challenge Account project, a product of the United Nation’s Millennium Development Goals. It’s made tourism much easier and more comfortable!
The next stop on our Khamariin Khiid tour: a bell renowned for calling good spirits and energy to the ringers.
The best spot for receiving the energy is inside the bell. At first I thought these men were just messing around, but it’s a common ritual!
It’s a windy one, especially by the bell!
Perhaps the biggest attraction at Khamariin Khiid is a few kilometers down the smooth newly paved road: Shambhala, one of the world’s most-powerful energy centers. Discovered by monks centuries ago as a site favorable for advancing one’s meditation (and even reaching Enlightenment!) the rectangular park is bordered by stupas and crisscrossed by lines of triangular prayer flags.
Upon entering the rectangular desert park, visitors are greeted by “the third eye.”
A lion watches guard over the famous clay yard. Hundreds of tourists flocked to the site over our weekend, despite its remote location!
The view of Shambhala from the far Western edge of the enclosure. A woman approaches the main shrine from the incense offering.
The main shrine. Mongolians gather to sing a sacred incantation carved into a monument nearby and make offerings of vodka, candy, and milk.
Laying on their backs, Mongolians soak up the natural healthful energy believed to be emanating from the earth itself. I tried it too!
Two women cross the yard (one wears a traditional “deel”), walking with the wind at their back!
The name “Shambhala” has several layers of meaning. In Tibetan Buddhism and Hinduism, it’s a famous historical (or mythical) kingdom in inner Asia, made popular by the Kalachakra Tantra and the Vishnu Purana. It’s also known as a “Pure Land,” a heaven on earth where all who seek spiritual attainment shall find it.
After Shambhala, our guide took us to see the nearby meditation caves where monks and lamas were bricked inside for a total of 108 days while meditating. For the first 54, they received a small bowl of food through a single-brick opening. Every day they ground down the bowl three times until it completely crumbled and was useless. At that point, the small opening was sealed and the last 54 days were spent in complete darkness and isolation — without food! After that period, his fellow monks then tore down the wall. If he survived, he was granted a special spiritual status.
Not a bad view! Too bad meditators were bricked inside!
Brick constructions still remain intact in places.
A Buddha statue now sits cross-legged where once a meditator did. Incense and offerings are commonly presented.
A tight squeeze; a “birthing canal” through which visitors crawl and are “reborn.” Those who crawl through before and after you are believed to be one’s spiritual brothers and sisters!
After exploring the caves it was time to return to the ger camp for lunch of buuz, steamed dumplings, with milky tea!
Foreboding clouds!
Not much basketball being played today!
Children play despite the brisk weather and dust!
Restored monastery.
A stupa coin vending machine! What?! For a mere 5,000 tugriks your donation can yield a miraculous collector’s item! (Unless the machine eats your money and a monk needs to unplug and re-plug it in for you first…)
The main stupa houses many intricately carved murals of Buddhist deities.
A wrathful deity cast in bronze.
After visiting the monasteries and main stupa our group departed for wishing mountain (9 hours after our promised sunrise visit…)
Advertisements in front of wishing mountain! The commercialization of this area is amazing. Since my first visit here three years ago it’s remarkable how much things have changed!
Thanks Xac Bank for sponsoring this timeless pilgrimage site… I guess?
In Mongolia, where there is a horse there is often a herder nearby. Not sure if this is the case here…
Wishing mountain! On the main “mountain,” or hill, only males are allowed at the top. Women and girls must stay at the first lower summit on the right.
Near the base of the mountain, people write wishes on pieces of paper and burn them in this incense burner in hopes that they will come true! I saw one woman with several full pages of handwriting. She must have had a life-plan!
After many steps, I reached the top!
A man makes oblations of vodka at the ovoo, or shrine, on top of wishing mountain.
A child on his father’s shoulders aims to place a rock on a stupa. His sibling watches on.
Not a bad view!
After a very busy day at Kharamiin Khiid and the nearby attractions, we returned to the main city of Sainshand to the Danzanravjaa Museum, dedicated to the famous poet, playwright, and lama from Dornogovi province. With personal, religious, and literary artifacts, this museum is a treasure trove of culturally significant items.
Traditional Mongolian script attributed to Danzanravjaa.
We were lucky enough to overlap with a mutual friend of ours, Zahariz Khuzaimah, a well-known National Geographic photographer, documentary film-maker, and adventure touring cyclist.
Although we were totally spent after hardly any sleep and a cold windy day of sightseeing, our group greatly enjoyed chatting with Zahariz about his own adventures. He was planning to bike to the nearby Chinese border in the coming days. Check out one of his websites here. Quite the photographer!
http://www.malaysiannomad.com/
After dinner our group took the overnight train AGAIN, this time back to Ulaanbaatar. After all the excitement, I slept like a log! While I would recommend staying in a ger overnight to other visitors, the trip was phenomenal!
Vocational English and Technical Education Programs in Mongolia: Challenges and Opportunities
I currently teach general and professional English at a vocational school in Ulaanbaatar to aspiring painters, secretaries, graphic designers, and tour guides. As I quickly learned, vocational English programs require a degree of specialization not found in most other secondary and tertiary educational contexts. Regardless of the type of program, vocational students need not only practical English vocabulary for their field but also a working knowledge of industry-specific skills, norms, trends, and best practices necessary for their profession.
My students give a short presentation to their peers using a poster-sized picture.
These are lofty goals for educators in vocational institutions but ensuring they are met is vital to the future of Mongolia’s economic growth. Drawing from my personal experiences, this post will address universal difficulties facing technical English programs, survey issues in the field of vocational education as a whole, and offer suggestions for making Mongolia’s technical and vocational education system as strong as possible.
The class watches a student presentation in my English club.
Teaching vocational English is a difficult but worthwhile undertaking. Students are often not familiar or comfortable with concepts, vocabulary, and background knowledge of their subject in their native language upon the start of their programs. This is only natural considering many pupils do not have extensive real-life experience within their fields prior to enrollment. However, this adds a challenge for educators.
Unlike general English programs that typically begin with elementary-level ideas and vocabulary, most of which students easily identify from comparable words in their native language, in technical programs students do not necessarily possess a strong basis for learning relevant English terms. Further, not all pupils entering technical schools have a thorough grasp of elementary English grammar, vocabulary, or pronunciation. Conversational English speaking ability can be very low and student motivation is at times a problem.
Many students are more interested in their cell phones than paying attention in class…
Nevertheless, it’s imperative for all students to understand the importance of mastering English relevant to their field. It doesn’t matter the profession in which a student is interested, in the modern global economy customers, clients, investors, managers, business owners, and colleagues in Mongolia are more likely than ever to speak English as a first or second language. Possessing the adequate skills to communicate with people in a workplace setting is invaluable. Further, in order to perform at a high level and continue to develop professionally, workers in all industries should consult up-to-date resources. Many of these materials are only available in English which leave non-speakers and non-readers behind.
Unfortunately, educational institutions all over the world are struggling to provide vocational students with practical skills to make them employable — and not just English skills. There are several reasons for this. First, too many higher education institutions, especially those I’ve visited in Asia, continue to use dry and outdated methods of English instruction. Reading, translation, and rote repetition of texts is not an effective strategy and leaves students bored and unmotivated.
A student bashfully operates her display at the school marketing fair. This is a great example of a hands-on way to actively engage students in what they’re studying and provide real-world skills!
Other students at the marketing fair patiently wait for potential customers at their tables.
Instead, methods should be made more dynamic and include activities aimed at increasing the production of spoken English related to the tasks pupils will be performing in a real life environment. Always popular among my students, games and competitions should be incorporated into the classroom on a daily basis to keep students’ attention and increase retention of knowledge. Also, field trips, hands-on seminars, and workshops should be used to supplement students’ English knowledge of their disciplines in a setting that replicates their real-life work environment. Today, I’m going to an art gallery with my art 101 students!
Two creative hair design students from my school ready their models at the National Golden Scissors event. Both won medals! Competitions are great ways to motivate students and schools to excel!
Judges inspect the students’ creative hair creations!
Judges examine student models’ nails at the competition.
A second major problem with vocational institutions is that many schools lack sufficient communication with professional organizations, ministries, and companies within their fields. This is the case in Mongolia but it’s not unique in that regard! The result is, no matter how hard students work, they’re not being adequately prepared for a real workplace environment, leading to poor employment prospects. Many students have little faith they are gaining relevant or employable skills, which further demotivates them. Curricula must be designed in coordination with industry leaders to guarantee that the skills-focus, English vocabulary, and methodologies of instruction are up-to-date, relevant, and effective.
Globally, as well as within Mongolia, government ministries of education and labor should do more to foster business-education partnerships. Larger tax breaks should be given to businesses that engage in collaboration with vocational schools and existing deductions should be made more widely known. Ongoing partnerships should be better publicized by all parties to encourage further networking between industry and vocational schools.
The Ministry of Labor sponsors a yearly exhibition of vocational schools, a great example of collaboration between government and educational institutions. This demonstration of student skill centered on the tiny display table!
Intricate ger carving and woodworking .
Me and the apprentice responsible for this incredible craftsmanship!
Furthermore, student internships and apprenticeships should be required for graduates of all high-quality programs and institutions. I’m very pleased with my school’s summer internship program for hospitality students who gain real-world skills as hotel staff each year. Opportunities for practical experience should be facilitated by every vocational school. Emphasis should be placed on opportunities where pupils can practice both professional and English-language skills. It’s impossible for students to be employable upon graduation if they have no work experience or training.
Databases should be made of hired graduates from every department in a vocational or technical institution to assess the employability of students. Schools could then use this information to find opportunities for further internship placements and partnerships. Importantly, this employment information should also be required of every vocational school by the Ministry of Labor in order to better assess the needs of the labor market. With sufficient information, Mongolia’s Ministry of Labor could more effectively guide its vocational and technical education system to supply the correct number of graduates to meet the current demand for jobs in each economic sector. This could benefit not just students and vocational and technical schools but Mongolia’s entire economy!
The performing arts programs at my school are fantastic and, of course, some students go on to be professional performers. However, when schools invest disproportionately in programs like this that have relatively low rates of employment after graduation it prevents the efficient allocation of labor. Particularly in a developing country, the opportunity cost of these decisions can be high.
Why have massive programs for auto workers when there are not enough factory jobs for all the trained graduates? Why have small or non-existent programs for construction and mining when there is still a large demand for workers in these sectors? Sadly, some companies are not currently able to meet their needs for skilled workers domestically and may instead hire better-trained but more expensive foreign employees. With statistics on student success the Ministry of Labor could then provide incentives for schools to expand programs in sectors of strong economic growth and cut programs that waste valuable tax dollars as well as students’ and instructors’ time. These changes are difficult but necessary to ensuring both the immediate and long-term success of Mongolia’s economy.
A model shows off a student designer’s work at the National Vocational School Expo’s fashion show!
A model poses for the camera as a crowd takes in the fashion design students’ best work!
There‘s much to be done to improve vocational English and technical educational systems to the point where both graduates and businesses are reaching their full potential. Most of these issues are not specific to Mongolia but also found in many other countries, including the United States. However, there are many causes for hope! My students work very hard and many show a very high aptitude for learning English as well as learning vocational skills. If educational administrators, government representatives, and business leaders convene to discuss these critical issues, and consider policy changes, Mongolian vocational students will have an even brighter future!
English tour guide students show me around Ulaanbaatar on a field trip!
*Note: This article was published by the UB Post on May 30th, 2014 as an “Opinion” piece.
Dogs of Ulaanbaatar
I love dogs. I grew up with a gentle giant of a yellow lab named Ben. He was a part of the family. Mongolia, like many developing countries, can be a heart-wrenching place to be a dog-lover, but things are changing fast.
A bed with a view!
Stray dogs are a common sight in Ulaanbaatar but they’re not nearly as common as they once were. Over the last twenty years numerous extermination campaigns have been launched to rid the city of feral canines, which can pose serious threats to humans. Dogs are not viewed in the same terms here as they are in the West. Attacks by rabid strays as well as the transmission of other dog-borne diseases and parasites makes man’s best friend a much larger risk to humans than in the developed world. While it’s a bit difficult at times to shed my bias, understanding the Mongolian cultural context is crucial to appreciate the complex relationship people here have with dogs.
Cozy!
Largely owing to Mongolia’s nomadic pastoralist heritage, there is a culture of viewing animals as commodities to be bought, sold, or eaten. Dogs have important traditional roles like guarding their owners’ gers (yurts) from raiding parties, helping with herding, and, most importantly, protecting the livestock from predators and thieves. The archetypal Mongolian dog, the massive, fearsome Mongol Bankhar, is even used to hunt steppe wolves that may prey on the herd! (Actually, it’s illegal to export the Mongolians’ prized canine, a close relative of the Tibetan Mastiff.)
(Photo courtesy of : http://www.dokhyi-bhairubshakti.nl/newsa.html)
Majestic, but don’t mess with it!
Although revered for their loyalty and usefulness, dogs aren’t viewed with the same degree of anthropomorphism found in the West. In an environment without modern veterinary medicine, and, more recently in the countryside, where access to adequate care is difficult and treatments are expensive, injured dogs are killed with the understanding a new puppy will replace it in its duties.
Dogs are often sighted roaming the sidewalks of UB.
However, in the quickly-modernizing capital city the traditional roles of dogs are absent and thus their utility is much less. On the contrary, they can be a major public nuisance and are often treated as such. Tales of animal rights abuses in Ulaanbaatar (as in many places in Asia) are not uncommon. Fellow foreigners have told me horror stories of drunken owners throwing massive rocks down from apartment windows onto tied-up dogs, killing them. Others have seen dogs kicked for fun by children in front of their parents. It appears reporting and enforcement of these offences is not a priority.
Most dogs here are very wary of people.
In fact, it’s believed that numerous illegal dog fighting rings operate in Mongolia. In 2013, there was a scandal for Heineken when pictures of a dogfight at a Mongolian club, where its banners were prominently displayed, went viral. Company representatives said there was previously a promotional event at the venue and the club owners negligently failed to take the materials down afterwards. Heineken cut all ties with the establishment and publicly denounced the animal rights abuses. Dog fights have been taking place in Mongolia for centuries for entertainment and gambling.
Aside from hostile humans, dogs in Ulaanbaatar must confront extreme cold. “Pupsicles” is a term coined by expats in Ulaanbaatar to describe the frozen dead puppies found occasionally on the dirt sidewalks, back alleys, and main streets during the depths of winter. Temperatures in December, January, and February routinely hover around -30 to -40 degrees Celsius, virtually the same as in Fahrenheit. For this reason, dogs are known to travel in packs in order to survive, taking shelter anywhere they can find in sewers and abandoned structures. Sadly, they compete with the homeless population at times leading to further human-animal conflict.
These puppies are just fine!
Still, there are plenty of reasons for hope! Cultural attitudes and norms towards dogs and pet ownership are changing very fast. Owning a dog is seen as a status symbol in the city. Many affluent Mongolian owners shy away from the brutish Mongol breeds, instead favoring lap dogs. While a decade and a half ago there were virtually no shelters or clinics for animals, there are now a handful of NGO-run establishments that provide veterinary services. Rising levels of wealth among the upper echelon also means owners will spend money to pay for the healthcare of their pets instead of choosing to euthanize them and adopt others.
How could you NOT want to feed this guy?
Neighborhoods collectively adopt strays, particularly puppies, and care for them. During the frigid winter months, locals deposited food scraps and old torn clothing for a pair of puppies that had made their home in a crevice in a concrete wall along a popular walkway. Mysteriously, the two disappeared one day. I’m hoping that a kind soul adopted them until the warmer weather returned; an increasingly common occurrence. There were dozens of puppies I wanted to adopt for the winter but I knew my landlord would have thrown a fit!
Wish I could take in a cute little guy like this one!
Right now a litter of pups is yipping outside my window from their home in a small stand of trees near our building’s dumpster, where their parents teach them to scavenge. Springtime is here and the nights are much warmer; the river next to our building has thawed and is running. Locals continue to donate food scraps and even a jacket that serves as a bed for the cute youngsters. They don’t appear to be going anywhere anytime soon!
To contact a rescue shelter in Mongolia please see the information below:
Foundation of Protection Animals of Mongolia
P.O. Box-46A-283
Ulaanbaatar- 210646
Mongolia
Tel: +976-8800-1414;
+976-9915-8085
Fax: +976-11-354551
For more information on Mongolia from other travelers, check out a favorite travel website of mine with some great articles from the land of the Eternal Blue Sky: http://www.gonomad.com/destinations-worldwide/asia-tags/tag/location-mongolia
Sources:
http://robert-mcpherson.photoshelter.com/image/I0000uMev85d2TZQ
http://advocacy.britannica.com/blog/advocacy/2012/12/from-commodities-to-companions/
Zaisan Hill
A power plant smokestack, crows, and an ovoo, a traditional Mongolian shrine, made for an interesting shot on this weekend’s stormy hike.
Hair, Makeup, and Nails — Oh My!
I open the door and step into the sweaty gymnasium of the Rajiv Gandhi Polytechnic College of Arts and Production. The overwhelming odor of nail polish and hairspray is almost too much to bear. I wonder how long the dozens of participants and spectators have withstood the harsh fumes. Still, the action here is well worth the light-headedness.
The male creative hair design competitors are first-year student stylists.
Makeup competition! Each contestant must do his or her best to replicate the same illustration they’re given.
Male mannequin contest between second year students.
First-year manicurists at work!
The room is alive with colors and textures, a teeming mass of cosmetics students, hair design trainees, and nail artist apprentices rushing to finish their creations before the deadline. It feels like an episode of a fashion-based reality TV show. Tensions are high. The focus and intensity of the contestants is palpable. Rihanna, Swedish house Mafia, and rave music blast my ears. I imagine the models going to an epic after party following the contest, but I’m told there is none!
Creative hair design competition between second-year diploma students. The stylist in red won an international competition last year.
The hairdressers are as stylish as their mannequins and models!
Stylist and model pose.
Glitter and dyed hair, cut by the stylists, litter the floor. Attendants with brooms and dustpans struggle to keep up with the debris showering the basketball court. Gracious and trusting volunteers in white smocks sit in rows of chairs as their classmates bring their creative experiments to life. Most are friends or classmates of the beauticians.
Bridal models patiently sit while makeup artists work their magic.
Long lines of tables ring the perimeter of the gymnasium, manicurists and hand models seated across from one another. The competitors painstakingly push back cuticles, paste on fake nails, and paint intricate designs in neon, black and white, silver, and gold. Models sport masks, tutus, dresses made of plastic trash bags, and even neon jumpsuits.
Look closely. The model is wearing a plastic garbage bag!
In a corner of the basketball court body paint is applied to two topless teenage students standing in nothing but booty shorts. On display for dozens of fellow classmates, teachers, and administrators I can’t believe the half nude spectacle! This would NEVER happen in the US!
Shockingly, fifteen year old students pose completely topless for the body painting competition!
As the time limits approach panicky stylists put the finishing touches on their designs. Models take off the smocks covering their outfits and volunteers hand out numbers. Judges slowly pace the aisles stopping to chat with one another and pointing, clipboards in hand.
Bridal makeup and hair models sit with numbered cards, posing for photos and judges.
Outfits are as creative and ridiculous as the nail art itself. Competitors await the judges decisions in the background.
Before the winners are declared the models practice their runway walk. In a long line they circle the rows of chairs as the crowds lining the walls snap photos with smart phones and murmur to one another. Groups of stylists stand back and compare their work with their classmates, anxiously awaiting the decisions. Models once again take their chairs and the judges hand out small slips of colored paper to the models of stylists who have placed in the top three.
Makeup models showing off for the judges.
Contestants’ work is on display! Each model holds a card with a number corresponding to their beautician.
This is the way many students in my school dress…
The products of the creative hair dummy contest on display.
Medals in the background are ready to be handed out to the winning contestants!
A few minutes later the chosen models, dummies, and stylists are brought to the front of the gym. An announcer in a shimmery navy blue suit calls out the winners. The crowd cheers wildly, but not everyone is happy.
“Good job,” I congratulate a first-year hair stylist student from my English Club, passing her in the crowd as I try to get a better camera angle. I’d watched her work and was impressed. “No! Not good. No good,” she turns away, wiping tears from her eye. Oops!
As you can see, a conservative dress code is strictly enforced!
The models take their jobs very seriously.
Models wore full costumes to highlight their nails!
At first I don’t realize how important this school event is but soon a co-teacher informs me that winning means advancing to the national competition and potentially gaining recognition among the top hair design studios and beauty salons in Mongolia. There are five students in the room who won the national competition last year for their respective events and traveled to Brazil. One student won two gold medals at the international competition for creative hair design in the men’s and women’s categories for her age group.
Good luck at nationals Rajiv Gandhi students!
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- Models wore full costumes to highlight their nails!
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- Hair stylist competitors await the results nervously!
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- Bad 80s hair = cool?
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- Male creative hair design’s winning model.
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- The stylists are as stylish as their mannequins and models!
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- Makeup artists and their models.
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- Not your momma’s haircut!
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- In between rounds bridal models rest and hydrate! They’re waiting for their makeup.
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- Glad I’m not a model…
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- Tough guy look!
Pollution in Ulaanbaatar
Ulaanbaatar, Mongolia’s icy capital, is the world’s second most-polluted city according to a recent Quartz study cited by TIME magazine. I’ve traveled a fair amount in Asia, which as a region faces many environmental issues due to its rapid industrialization and urbanization. However, before living in UB I could never have imagined air pollution so bad. When I pull back my curtains in the morning the city looks like a scene from a post-apocalyptic sci-fi or horror movie. Buildings two blocks away are nearly invisible, veiled in a gray haze. Soviet-era minibuses cruise down the street, disappearing into a blanket of smog after a block and a half. On some days I can’t count the number of children on the soccer field from my apartment building less than 100 yards away. How they’re braving the thick haze, not to mention the -15 C weather, I will never fully understand.
A view from my apartment window on a better-than-average morning.
Air pollution is measured by the number of airborne particles less than 10 micrometers in diameter per cubic meter (PM10). At this size, the particles easily become trapped in human lung tissue leading to asthma and bronchitis and contributing to heart disease and other respiratory and cardio-vascular maladies. Recent studies have also found strong correlations between elevated PM10 and higher prevalence of cancer of the mouth, larynx, and lungs. The world’s average annual pollution count in major cities is 71 PM10 according to the 2013 Quartz study. [The World Health Organization’s recommended target level is less than 10 PM10 per cubic meter.] In Ulaanbaatar, the average annual level is 279 PM10, according to the same Quartz study.
My daily commute to school. Today, the high-rise apartment buildings straight ahead are invisible.
Shockingly, in the winter air pollution levels are many times higher than the yearly average mainly due to the massive amounts of coal required for heating a city where the average high temperature is -10 C between November and late February. In recent years during December, January, and February, PM10 measurements have been reported between 750 and 1,500 PM10. One independent air quality observer recently reported levels exceeding 2,000 particles per cubic meter! At these levels, citizens are essentially breathing in inescapable smoke! A 2011 joint World Health Organization and Mongolian Ministry of Nature, Environment and Green Development study found that the levels of particulate matter in UB are more than 35 times higher than the WHO’s recommended standards.
The view from my classroom window. Imagine an entire hillside behind the smoke. In fact, “smoke” is the forecast most days here.
The suffocating pollution is caused by a number of factors. First, coal-fired power plants located within the city’s borders spew out thick smoke without the EPA emissions standards in place in the United States or Europe. Second, transportation contributes an increasing share each year as the city’s roads, designed to accommodate 500,000 people, are burdened by nearly 1.2 million. Tens of thousands of new vehicles are on the road each year, adding to already intolerable traffic woes and smog. However, the leading cause of the poor air quality is energy consumption in the city’s peripheral ger districts, which are comprised of former nomads relying on coal burning stoves to stay warm and cook. It is estimated that these quasi-temporary squatter settlements grow by roughly 15,000 people each year. Most lack access to basic needs such as clean water, adequate sanitation, and, of course, electricity.
The hazy hillside beyond is the ger district. Many days, especially in the mornings, virtually nothing but the buildings in the foreground is visible. Picture taken from the roof of my apartment building.
So what are the effects of these astronomical levels of air pollution on Ulaanbaatar’s residents? Accounts vary, but a 2012 article in the Mongolia Briefing reported that roughly 1600 deaths and an additional 8,500 hospital admissions are due to pollution-related causes. A 2011 study found that an estimated 1 in 10 citizens of UB die of pollution-related causes. It’s not hard to consider that this rate may be even higher when, during the winter months, breathing the outside air is equivalent to smoking 4 to 5 packs of cigarettes a day! The aforementioned joint WHO-Ministry of Nature study found:
…that pollution levels in some locations of Ulaanbaatar are so high that the study team is not aware of similar high monitored particulate matter (PM) values in any other city in the world. In order to bring concentrations in line with Mongolia’s air quality standards, emissions have to be reduced by more than 90 percent. (The Mongolia Briefing.)
I live in one of the areas referred to above – on the border of the ger district north of downtown UB. The overwhelming burden of the pollution falls on the poor inhabiting these boroughs mostly because the residents cannot afford any means other than coal, wood, or even trash to stay warm or cook. According to an October article in the UB Post “ger districts produce as much as 70 to 90 percent of the air pollution in the winter.” Due to the inversion created by the valley and extremely cold temperatures, which traps the hot, polluted air, the highest concentrations of particulate matter stay in these areas. While I am fortunate enough to be able to afford a pollution mask and an air purifier for my room, I walk past coughing, wheezing, and sputtering residents daily who are not able to afford such luxuries.
Also on my daily commute.
So, what has the government done to help fix the public health crisis? Many Mongolians are very frustrated with the level of governmental ineffectiveness. A couple weeks ago, looking outside through our classroom window a co-worker turned to me suddenly and said “our politicians are very bad!” [Earlier that day the pollution was such that my students had difficulty seeing the PowerPoint presentation on the screen due to the obscuring effect of the projector illuminating the floating particulate matter. As soon as I entered the classroom my mouth was filled with a chalky texture and smoky taste, my throat became scratchy, my chest burned dully, and my eyes started to water. This is not normal, thankfully.]
![The most marginalized citizens are literally on the periphery of the city, obscured from the downtown by a thick wall of haze. [This is on a very clear day.]](https://peterswanderings.files.wordpress.com/2013/12/005.jpg)
The most marginalized citizens are literally on the periphery of the city, obscured from the downtown by a thick wall of haze. [This is on a very clear day.]
There is talk that Ulaanbaatar is the most polluted city… Mongolia is not leading the world with its dust… There are lots of factors that generate dust and particles, such as roadwork, construction and population density. But we have to take action against this. We have to develop green areas, and increase the number of small fountains. Most highly developed cities wash their roads and squares. That is why we are planning to wash roads next year. If we wash public roads and areas, dust must decrease.
Yes, you’ll find similar scenes on every block in UB, but this is not the cause of the air quality problems.
Creating more fountains? Cleaning the streets!? How can this be a serious response to a question about emissions? This quote seems to undermine the credibility and competence of the city office spearheading the issue by exposing a complete misunderstanding or willingness to overlook the true causes of the pollution problem. More recently, the mayor met with representatives of Mitsubishi Motors and issued a statement encouraging the population to buy electric cars, at best a weak step towards reducing transportation-related emissions.
What else is being done? Since the passing of a 2011 Clean Air Act, the Ministry of Nature, Environment, and Green Development has allocated its 92 million tugrik budget to programs to subsidize cleaner burning coal briquettes, while admitting the suppliers wouldn’t be able to meet the entire city’s demand. It has also subsidized cleaner-burning stoves for those in the ger districts with limited effectiveness. [Many residents refuse to buy any new stoves due to their extremely limited incomes, favoring Soviet-era technology.]
Again, the downtown on a good day.
Despite research findings of international experts, which he publicly questioned, the Minister of Nature, Environment, and Green Development declared a 20 percent reduction in CO2 emissions and nearly 30 percent drop in particulate matter since last year. Still, many residents wonder where the figures are coming from and where the money went. “The pollution here is as bad as ever, and most people think it’s even worse than last year,” one local reported.
A more typical day, facing downtown.
If there were such a thing as a positive result of pollution, it might be this sunrise…
Sources:
http://ubairpollution.org/wiki/index.php?title=UB_Air_Pollution_Wiki#2013
http://link.springer.com/article/10.1007%2Fs11869-013-0198-7
http://ubpost.mongolnews.mn/?p=6255
http://ubpost.mongolnews.mn/?p=6667
Ulaanbaatar Field Trip
On a Saturday morning several weeks ago, I met my co-teacher, Seggii, and our English tour-guide students at Parliament.
The Mongolian National Parliament Building, Ulaanbaatar.
After forty minutes of waiting for all the teachers and students to gather, we made our first stop at the National Museum in the basement of the Parliament building. After going through security, we gazed upon many priceless artifacts — well, in between photo-shoots that is. It seems like for every special occasion or outing I attend, particularly with my students, around fifty percent of my time is spent posing for photos. Considering I speak very little, if any, Mongolian, this is quite fine with me and allows for genuine interaction without language being necessary. [My students’ English level is very low and most of them are very shy to speak with me beyond greetings and small talk.] However, sometimes I can’t help but feel a bit objectified or tokenized as “the white person,” or, conversely, sometimes feel that I’m treated like a celebrity. I try not to let the extra attention go to my head but the daily unwanted attention in the hallways in my school can be wearisome, especially because the students’ English is usually so low that I can’ actually engage in real conversations with them.
One of the dozens of photo ops throughout the day. This time we’re posing in front of a gigantic mural of Genghis Khan.
The gallery is very well maintained and has some fascinating items. Among them:
The official Mongolian national seal.
An ancient Mongolian diplomatic passport.
A replica of the black banner flown by Genghis Khan back in the day.
A mural of a wrathful Mongolian Buddhist deity.
A very old boot.
An even older hat.
And who could forget the decorative box that the national seal is stored in.
After departing the museum we walked out onto the front steps of Parliament right into a massive display of pomp and circumstance. Dozens of Mongolian soldiers marched up the steps in perfect synchronization (very un-Mongolian) as we scrambled down them. We were quickly ushered off the “stage” by security officers, but we still had an excellent view of the elaborate ceremony. Later I learned it was a practice run for Genghis Khan’s birthday (Chingghis Khan to Mongolians). It was nice to not have to compete with the crowds for these photos. There were maybe two dozen people on hand to witness the rehearsal.
A few photos from the impressive display:
Soldiers doing what Mongolians do best, looking tough!
Fierce.
Me and my new friend!
After a few minutes of looking badass they marched off. I’m not sure if the high leg kick helps their bad-boy image or not, but the Minister of Silly Walks would be impressed.
Which Mongolian is my student and which is the soldier? I can’t even tell!
Posing in front of the giant statue of General Sukhbaatar, a Mongolian hero of the revolution.
After the marching and more photos, we took a bus across town. Thankfully, our first stop was for lunch at a small restaurant that sold two things, buuz and milk tea. What more does a Mongolian need?
Buuz, steamed Mongolian dumplings filled with mutton or beef. “Did I need to order four?”
Yes, I did…
The next stop was to Zaisan hill, a massive Soviet WWII monument erected well before the democratic revolution in 1990. Approaching the many steps leading to the monument, I helped three of my students practice their English by counting each one as we marched up them in unison. Six hundred and four steps later, we reached the top!
The circular monument with inset Soviet murals overlooks the city.
Maybe I said, “that is called a skyscraper.” Or maybe it was something more like “First, we’ll take the archers to the hills to the north and flank our enemy with our cavalry from the west.” We will never know for sure.
After throwing darts at balloon targets and winning small stuffed animal prizes, my students and I descended the stairs and posed with more Soviet sculptures. At my co-teacher’s encouragement, I picked the nose of a Soviet commander and even climbed a tank on display with a student.
Okay, if she’s doing it…
Apparently this tank was used by the Soviets in 1945. Again at my teacher’s encouragement, I decided to go through with the staged re-enactment of Mongolian-Soviet friendship.
“Up!”
“Goodbye for now!”
Steppe Riders!
Two weekends ago I went to Steppe Riders, a family owned tourist camp about an hour outside of Ulaanbaatar. The group of ex-patriot riding enthusiasts I went with is appropriately named the “CC and C Riders” which obviously for Chaps, Chicks, and Chinggis (Khaan). We convened in the morning outside of the Grand Khaan Irish Pub and loaded up into two vans.
I’m not sure who this man was, but he really wanted a picture with me as our group gathered to carpool! As a general rule, if someone wants a photo with me, I make sure to get one with them too!
As usual, the ride to the countryside was filled with massive potholes, close-calls with oncoming vehicles as both drivers tried to avoid said potholes, and the occasional gravel flicking up onto the windshield from cars in front of us. It was a true pleasure to meet both a New Englander and a Spaniard on the ride, both from places I’ve called home! I’m glad I had a chance to chat with both about their life stories and experiences of Mongolia so far!
The view of the crowded parking lot that we pulled into after the bumpy ride.
Steppe Riders is in a beautiful valley nestled far enough outside of the city to ensure that the air is fresh and the views of the sprawling vacant hills are spectacular. With over a hundred horses, it’s not a small operation. The agency relies on seasonal temporary labor from English-speaking foreigners, who come from all over the world to volunteer there for weeks at a time. We met folks from Australia, New Zealand, and Seattle who had been there helping to prepare meals, serve guests, clean gers, groom and tack horses, and help lead rides for guests. Foreign volunteers pay $150 a week for the costs of room and board and get access to the horses and trails after guest rides are finished for the day. They even get to help lead overnight rides too!
This is the guest gazebo where we had tea and played a traditional game of “ankle bones” before suiting up for the ride!
These are the guest gers which tourists can stay in overnight if they’ve booked multiple days of riding.
The horses are tethered to the line, tacked and ready to go!
These kids are part of the family business plan. They “help out” with many of the chores and provide excellent entertainment for all.
The large blue-roofed ger is home to a long table where meals are served to guests. The ger beside it is the cooking tent.
Unlike the previous riding operation I went to, Steppe Riders supplied helmets, chaps, and English-speaking guides. They didn’t even whip our horses and try to herd us! In fact, they even made an effort to make us feel welcome by offering us tea and asking about our riding experience beforehand. They even suggested dividing us into groups based on experience! How refreshing from our last ride!
Excited to ride!
Meet a few of the CC and C Riders!
Now, meet them again! (For the record, I’m not actually grabbing my buddy Ben’s chest and making him feel very awkward, but attempting to karate chop… fail!)
View of the camp from my horse after saddling up.
The riders head out!
I think as a general rule in Mongolia here, if you want a decent horse you need to explain profusely that you are an experienced rider. Otherwise, most Mongolian tour operators will give you a clunker that has some temperament issues and doesn’t like to gallop. I think that, probably for good reason, every place I’ve ridden the herders have been very cautious to let any foreigners ride their faster horses. (Although I admit so far I’ve lucked out. I think that just because of my hat and cowboy boots people take me a bit more seriously!) In general though, in comparison to the locals in the countryside who ride day in and day out starting at age three or four, all foreigners lack experience!
My favorite mode of transportation!
Leaving the camp, we reach the expansive rolling hills. At this point, the divide between the beginner and more experienced riders becomes evident. It also became obvious who had a horse that liked to run and who didn’t. My horse liked to run a lot! My friend Katie’s horse also like to let loose and we raced our horses across the plains at a full gallop for a few hundred yards at a time before forcing our horses to take a breather and trot or walk.
For some reason, even among our student coordinators — who did a fantastic job leading us around the city during our first month — Mongolian guides don’t necessarily like to lead from the front. When you have open space and horses that like to race this means that you lose sight of the leader after turning into a crease in the valley. Our guides had no problem with us really opening up some space between the other riders, but often had to motion the correct direction for us to run in. There are no trails here and the horses as a result were not programmed to run on autopilot for most of our ride. It was nice to actually have the opportunity to practice some horsemanship skills though! (It was also great to not have to put up with a five year old screaming at us and whipping our horses too, although I missed our last guide!)
Circling a “odoo” on my quarter horse. These sacred rock piles are meant to be circumambulated three times in a clockwise motion. It’s a practice to pay respect to the spirits of the mountains and valleys and is generally observed by rural Mongolians on foot.
My horse is tired after all that galloping! (I wonder how much rest they get in between rides. I’m guessing not enough!)
Looking stoic, maybe slightly suspicious of his rider.
Enjoying the break!
Our group together at the halfway point!
One of my favorite points on the ride was our last run up a dirt road when the guide looked at me with a “you wanna gallop?” expression accentuated by an arch of her eyebrows and a wide grin. “Of course!” We raced past the cows that darted off the road ahead of us and passed the Mongolian herd dogs barking and chasing at our heels.
Getting back to camp after a long loop!
“Are we really back here already? We should give these ones a rest and take some new ones out!”
Overall, Steppe Riders was a great experience! Although the ride could have been a bit longer than the two hours we were out, the service was wonderful and the horse I was given had some serious spirit. The scenery was gorgeous and the meal of tsuivan,” homemade fried rice noodles and veggies, at the end of the day was delicious and filling.
One of my highlights of the day was the ride back, where I got the chance to talk with my new Spanish friend in “Castellano” for an hour or so about everything from her hometown of San Sebastian to travel in India to Buddhism! Oh how I miss speaking Spanish every day! I suppose I came to the wrong country for that… but I have plans now for weekly Mongolian lessons.
Nomadic Homestay Part 2
(Continued from Part 1…)
Still in a bit of a fog from my visit with the shaman, I decide to investigate what’s cooking for the celebratory meal! The first course is already well underway. Beef noodle soup!
It seems almost universal! Every barbecue must have a guy like this to man the grill, skillet, pot, etc.
An older relative tends the wood-burning stove the family has brought along. The rusted eight foot chimney, originally designed for venting smoke from gers while cooking indoors, has been erected in front of a row of western-style camping tents. Like most traditional Mongolian foods, there are no spices added to the dish. The one seasoning I notice being sprinkled generously into the pot is salt. It seems to be doing the trick. It smells delicious!
Beef noodle soup. Yum!
Goat. It’s what’s for lunch!
Suddenly, my attention is diverted to the main course. “Baaah!” Gleefully, our host father hauls a charcoal black goat over to the outdoor stove. Straddling its front quarters, he wields an ax in his right hand. He means business! His son joins him in restraining the struggling animal. As he prepares himself for the first step in the recipe, he smiles at me with a “this is how it’s done!” look. Deftly and with immense force, he brings down the butt of the ax onto the crown of the goat’s head. “Bleeah! Bleeeah! Ble-“ it cries before the second and third blow quickly silence it.
Now that the goat is limp and unconscious, the father motions to his son to help him flip it over to expose its belly. In a matter of seconds, it’s on its back. The father kneels down and uses the blade of the ax to make a large incision in the upper belly of the beast. Reaching his arm inside the still breathing animal, the herder grimaces with concentration as he searches for something. Thirty seconds later he pulls out its heart! Is this really happening? With its heart resting on top of its upturned belly, this goat is done for.
Waiting patiently for the goat to die. Not much doubt that it’s not going to live long with its heart outside of its body!
Success! The father and son duo prepare the first ingredient in the time-honored recipe which calls for: 1) A freshly killed goat, 2) water, and 3) salt.
Moments later the father expands the original incision and empties the contents of the abdomen into several metal bowls. Several younger relatives look on with interest.
Looks delicious! Doesn’t it?
No wasting time in this step!
“This is how it’s done!”
Meanwhile, his nephew fires up a soviet-era blowtorch to singe the hair off the carcass.
Readying the blowtorch! (I made sure to line up to the side of this operation to take the this photo.)
After the innards are divided into three basins, two older women take the one containing the rectum and lower bowels and squeeze out the fecal matter inside of them.
A young family member looks on with interest as her aunts prepares the intestines.
The pile of green grassy material comes from the animal’s intestinal tract and rumen, one of the multiple compartments of the stomach that goats have to digest the tough steppe grasses.
“Can we eat it yet?” “No! Are you crazy?! We can’t eat that!” “I thought Mongolians were tough!” “Okay, you eat it then!” (Tempting as it was, my friend, Erdene, won the argument.)
Now that the blowtorch is fired up, the hair is burned and scraped off with a large knife. I’m not the only one who gets the ordeal on film!
While my host father looks on, his nephews put the blowtorch to use on its “flamethrower” setting.
While one directs the flame, the other scrapes off the burnt hair.
This event was documented by the participants as well.
“Dinner’s almost ready!”
If this goat was not already dead, it would be in serious trouble. I’m glad the men with the flamethrower and knife are on my side! (At least they were until the wrestling started.)
Bon appetit!
While the three men continue with the labor-intensive endeavor, my host mother takes the massive pot of beef noodle stew from the burner and doles out bowls to everyone else. We kneel and sit cross legged around the same tarp used for the ankle bones game earlier. White bread is passed out and I help myself to several pieces. Offered another bowl by my host mom, I can’t refuse!
Finishing the first course, I watch as the meat with singed skin still attached is butchered and thrown into a cooking pot. The highly prized internal organs are saved for later meals throughout our stay. (Goat brains for breakfast, anyone?)
“Let’s throw in a bit of this here meat, just for flavor!”
The second course goes on the stove.
Drinking Time!
As I snap photos of the final steps of the meal preparation, I’m beckoned into the main tent by the older relative who has been diligently manning the stove top. Seated on the ground are two other elders with an opened bottle of vodka between them. Two more full ones lay on the ground nearby. My friend and interpreter absent, I’m left to fend for myself.
The men in the tent inspect me carefully and begin to chat in Mongolian as they finish passing around a red thermos cup full of vodka to one another. They’re probably debating how much this white guy can drink… Before I can think too much more about it, the man in charge pours between four and five shots of Chinggis Khan into the cup. That is a LOT of alcohol!
With keen interest, the three Mongolians watch intently as I’m offered the cup. “What’s he gonna do?” they’re asking themselves. This could be a bad idea, but… “Bottoms up!” Without hesitation, I down the entire cup. Whew! Grimacing and wiping away the drops of vodka dribbling down my chin with my sleeve, I quickly hand it back. Thankfully we just ate and this is not on an empty stomach.
Immediately the men’s eyes open wide with surprise. Smiling and shaking my head, I see they also have the biggest grins I’ve seen on their faces so far. Even the killing of the goat didn’t have this effect. They start laughing and punching each other on the shoulders. “I told you he would drink it all!” “Wow, you were right!” I imagine they’re saying.
Having proven myself, the next few rounds they pour less than a shot for me. Thankfully, my friend comes to rescue me soon. “Peter, your face is bright red! How much have you drank?” “I dunno, less than them!” I laugh. He’s offered the cup shortly afterwards. A non-drinker, he touches his lips politely to the cup, but our hosts are not very pleased with his lack of enthusiasm. However, I’ve proven myself enough to have a full on conversation with the men, with my friend as translator.
After a twenty minute conversation about the differences between Christianity and Shamanism, we get up to check on the main dish cooking outside.
Meal Time!
An uncle adds water to the cooking goat meat.
After several rounds of salty milk tea with my new friends back in the ger – which thankfully cuts the edge off the vodka quite nicely – the main course arrives. The boiled meat is fairly tender and has a lot of fat on it, the best part of any meal for most Mongolians. Voraciously hungry, I help myself to a goat rib and part of it’s hind left leg. My hosts watch my efforts to cut small pieces off, and insist that I make several cross-cuts to be able to more easily rip it off with my canine teeth. The strategy works and, although I feel I’m eating like a caveman, apparently I’m doing it right.
There’s something very satisfying about this whole process, something elemental. How many times in the U.S. have I really seen where my food comes from? Especially meat! Here I know that the goat lived a full and free life on the steppe and was killed as quickly and painlessly as possible.
The main dish is served steaming hot inside the ger. Notice that there are a few mats laid down, but otherwise the grassy ground serves as a sufficient floor.
Plates, utensils, and napkins are not necessary! Generally, several knives are placed in the serving dish for people to cut off the desired pieces of meat.
Watermelon for desert!
Packing up!
After the feasting commences and several more rounds of ankle bones and a small wrestling tournament (which I’ll write more about later) ensue, it’s time to go!
Nomads doing what they do best, packing up and moving out! First, they take down the sheepskin outer covering.
“Anyone home?”
The family works with incredible efficiency to take down the ger erected earlier that day specifically for the ceremony. Next, the painted wooden roof poles are removed.
A man holds in place the main support beams that support the ceiling. Traditionally, the space between the two pillars is sacred. Walking or standing between them is sacrilegious because they represent the conduit between the earthly and the supernatural realms. Only the most revered lamas and shamans with special powers are permitted to sit in this position.
After the roof is taken down, the doorway is removed and the collapsible siding pieces are neatly folded.
In the midst of the operation, a girl pauses to collect her thoughts and belongings.
Almost down! Total time: 10 minutes.
While traditionally the pieces of gers were loaded onto horses, a Japanese truck will do!
Securing the ger gear.
Preparing to load up the truck.
After the camp has been taken down completely, the elders in the family pay their respect to the spirits of the mountain and of their ancestors.
Paying homage.
Honoring the spirits, a man kneels and bows in the direction of the shrine we visited earlier.
Thanks for taking the time to read a bit more about my home stay! Still plenty more material to come from that short but busy visit!
Fulbright Fellow
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