Where Did I Go?

Wow!!  How time flies.  This entry should probably go under another blog name since it doesn't have any direct connection to Mongolia, but I'm putting it here anyway.  Since the last entry, Pam and I have been in Korea and Bali, and we're headed to Java next.  The Bali visit was planned for our holiday break, and the Java trip was a possibility, but the Korean visit was an adventure that we really didn't want at first but we're glad we did it. 

In a nutshell, I developed a problem with my leg that the local health center decided that I should go to Korea to have diagnosed because of the quality of their health services.  The diagnosis resulted in a surgical procedure that kept me in Seoul for 2 weeks.  I had a week from the diagnosis to surgery,which allowed me to travel the subterranean, amazingly efficient metro system that travels to all corners of Seoul and beyond.  What a wonderful, clean, modern and friendly place to hang out in.  After being in Mongolia and having to dodge assassin drivers looking to place another notch on the steering wheel, Korea was a mind blower as traffic stopped to let me cross the street.  People stopped at red lights and not once did I have to deal with a car driving down the sidewalk looking to gain a few more meters in a mass traffic jam. 

Seoul may have even more coffee shops than Seattle.  One disappointing feature for me was the prevalence of many American businesses such as Starbucks, Dunkin Donuts, KFC, and McD's  to name only a few. 

When Pam learned that I was having surgery, she arranged to be with me in Seoul.  I contacted some friends who had lived in Seoul for recommendations of things to do and see.  Armed with that info, we had a couple of days to visit markets, palaces, temples, and parks and went to the DMZ (Demilitarized Zone between North and South Korea) together before I headed to the Samsung Medical Center.

I would not hesitate to go back to Korea for medical care. Many staff spoke some English and worked hard to make sure that I understood what was happening before it happened. Everything was clean and ultramodern. Since this is the Samsung Medical center, the tvs were Samsung that had movie channels in English and the ability to have subtitles in other languages. As I hobbled the hallways on crutches, many other patients would make eye contact and bow towards me or try and speak English. Having been in many a hospital in the States, I cannot envision many Americans showing the same courtesy or making the attempts to talk to a foreigner in their language. The bottom line is that the docs fixed the problem.

Seoul gives the impression that it is a very safe city. Pam would often leave the hospital between 9 and 10pm to go back to the hotel feeling very safe.

Due to some medical complications, we ended up staying in Seoul longer than we thought. The day I was discharged just happened to be the day we were supposed to fly to Bali from Seoul. Being on crutches gets a person amazing service at an airport. First, I was put in a wheelchair that seemed to be the symbol that speeds one through security, get very good seats and expedite the visa and custom process. It was great service.

Can you tell me one more time the name of that beer?

If you take our picture we'll take yours.

The local dance hall

Looking into N. Korea

Which way is the hospital?

Tunnel #4 and here are the rats.

Mongolian Wrestling Tournament

     In celebration of the Mongolian Independence Day, 250 wrestlers of many different shapes and sizes from many parts of Mongolia arrived at the Wrestling Palace ready to battle newbies, Falcons, Elephants, Lions, Champions and higher level Champions.  These are various levels of honor one can attain by winning a certain number of matches.  A Mongolian friend of mine scored tickets for Pam, myself, two other American colleagues and another Mongolian friend from school.  The arena looked like a giant ger with its round shape and sunlit center.  There were certain sections set up for dignitaries, a section for the band, and the rest for the wrestlers and spectators.
     As we sat and asked our Mongolian friends questions about what we were going to experience, guys starting taking their clothes off exposing superman-type briefs and shirtless sleeves both tightened with ropes which we would soon understand why.  On top of their heads they wore the traditional hat with the pole-like protrusion on top with some having a metal emblem on the front part that we learned informed people of the wrestling level they'd achieved.  The wrestlers wore leather boots with wool inserts. The soles of the boots had, what looked like, thin leather rope on the front and back of the boot.  We were told it was used for traction.
     The crowd came alive as the referees began to line up, and a parade of wrestlers marched on to the arena floor forming a circle.  These were only the most accomplished wrestlers, which numbered probably about 100.  The Mongolian national anthem was played by the band, and then all the wrestlers were introduced.  To those of us struggling to learn the language, it sounded like everyone was named Andy.  We were then treated to a special wrestling song done by horse head fiddlers and throat singers.
     After the rousing song, many of the wrestlers left the floor.  Those that stayed prepared for their first bout.  There were 12 referees dressed in either blue or red.  Red handled one side of the arena and blue the other.  Each wrestler stood by one referee with a hand on the referee's shoulder and then strutted in half arcs around the referee while waving to the crowd.  The referee then removed the wrestler's hat and held onto it.  The wrestlers then went to the flag pole and moved in a way that resembled a bird flapping its wings followed by stooping and slapping the inside of their thighs twice and their hamstrings once.  It reminded me of watching New Zealand's All Blacks rugby team try to psyche out their opponent before the game.
     The wrestlers then headed to the center of the floor to find their opponents.  Without any fanfare, the wrestlers hooked up and started their bout.  It was like watching a Ringling 3 ring circus.  There were probably 20-30 wrestlers all grappling at the same time.  The object is to get the opponent to touch the floor with any part of his body other than hands and feet.  There were no weight, height or ability categories.  At times you could see something that looked like a reenactment of David and Goliath or Jabba the Hut and Luke Skywalker.  There were all kinds of strategies used from rope-a-dope to rams locking horns to a blitzkrieg.  This was a single elimination tournament.  When a person won, he would raise his arms while the loser would untie the rope on his sleeves and then duck under the champ's right armpit who would slap the loser on the rump.  This happened only if the loser was a wrestler of lower rank than the winner.  If I higher ranked wrestler lost that person would not go under the arm pit.  Exactly what he does is still unclear.  The winner would then see his referee, who would place the wrestler's hat back onto his head, and then go over by the flag pole and do the bird dance again.  The loser had to go and find the referee and retrieve his hat and head back to the stands to get dressed, no phone booths.
     Some of the bouts lasted only a minute or less while others went on for 15 - 20 minutes.  Wrestlers seemed to agree to take breaks and then lock up again when ready.  If the match seemed to last too long, the referee would say something to the men and slap them on the butt to get the match over with.  The wrestlers grabbed each other's superman pants and the ropes holding the sleeves in place.  This was tough material.  We did not see any accidental bun shots due to loose ropes.  Must have been great knots!  Guys were picked up by their shorts, spun around by the ropes on their sleeves, and yanked by the hands grabbing at the limited material on their bodies.  There was even instant replay to determine who hit the floor first, which we saw on one occasion.

Grabbing on.

The Wrestling Palace

In the stands behind us getting ready.  No it's not me.

According to my Mongolian friends this is the emblem of the elephant.

As explained to me this singing is the wrestling anthem.

I thought the big guy would finish the skinny guy quickly but he did eventually win that round and the next 2.

This is the bird dance that I forgot to shoot video of.

    This was a long affair which I didn't get a chance to complete watching because Pam needed to use a restroom and the only women's room was locked and no one had a key supposedly.  Prior to this a buddy and I decided to choose a bout that was in progress or about to start and pick a wrestler to root for and lay a beer on the line.  We apparently amused a number of Mongolians in our area as we cheered and groaned depending on the outcome of the match.  The tournament is followed by a post analysis and highlights that we can remember at a local pub.
     There are 2 other holidays that have wrestling tournaments, Tsagaan Tsar and Nadem.  We'll plan on being there with a keener eye on the talent to wager those beers on.   Hopefully, there will be an unlocked women's bathroom.              

International Week at ISU

We now have our first International Week under our belts.  It was a great experience and definitely an event that schools back in the states could benefit from.  The week is designed to look at and celebrate different cultures.  The week started with an international potluck at school that would put the most diverse mall food court to shame.  The school had tables arrange based on geographical location.  Families and staff of 25-30 nationalities cooked, baked and brought foods from their respective cultures.  There was Vegemite from Australia, kimbob from S. Korea, American brownies (not those kind), Peruvian, Kuwaiti, and various African country delights, just to name only a few.  Anyone trying to taste something from each     country probably would have put on 10 lbs.  Monday was host country day when everyone was expected to wear something from Mongolia.  The last blog gave a glimpse of what some people looked like but the sight of seeing more than 300 people dressed in various Mongolian attire was one of those pinch moments when the question is asked, "Is this for real?" The day started in the gym with a talk by the director about the purpose of International Week to the masses.   The assembly included a performance by a throat singer and horse head fiddler and a contortionist who had people watching with their mouths ajar.   Wednesday,  I joined the PE staff and ran international games.  The first group numbered about 40 so they leg wrestled (Canada, according to the Canadian PE teacher), a game from Denmark that required students to try and push an opponent off a mat without using their hands and the always popular hand slapping game that requires one person to get their opponent to move their feet.  The next session for the 6th graders was a varied form of bombardment courtesy of Denmark that kept them running, throwing and, of course, complaining about rules violations.  Thursday was the parade of nations that parents were invited to.  Students and staff arrived at school dressed in clothing from their home countries or clothing from one of their parent's nationalities.  As Americans we looked pitiful compared to many of the other nationalities traditional costumes.  We needed a few native American outfits.  Students and staff from each country were called onto the stage where a projected image of their flag and their national anthem played while everyone cheered.  It was a moment that brought lumps to throats and tears to eyes.  Friday was reflection day when students discussed or wrote about the importance of acknowledging, celebrating and appreciating diversity.    What a refreshing experience coming from a country that tends to value uniformity.  

The Shopping Spree

     This week is International Week at school which requires every staff member to wear something Mongolian on the Monday.  This was the incentive to go now and acquire some stylish traditional (or maybe not) garb, continue to practice my Mongolian and sharpen my bargaining skills.  I arranged to meet a Mongolian friend of mine, Bold, to show me what to look for so that I could develop critical eyeballs.  Two other colleagues joined us in the quest at the Black Market.
     As we made our way past the caged dogs and cats, leather jackets, jeans, camel wool garments and clothing knockoffs, we looked like ducklings following the mother duck.  Bold is a BIG guy who's been a wrestler in the past.  We snaked our way to the deel section and eyeballed a kaleidoscope of colors, fabrics and styles that ranged from the very traditional to short jackets and vests.  As soon as we stopped to look at one, a helpful person began to pull the article off the hanger and motion for us to put it on.  As the deel's final buttons were fastened and the hand held mirror put in front of us, Mongolian passerbys would stare and often times give a thumb's up.  The Mongolian clothing row is a continual line of items, so it's very difficult to determine who owns how many meters of clothing in the row.  The sight of the foreigners trying on deels became even more interesting as our numbers increased when 2 more colleagues showed up.  Bold was great as he clarified prices and negotiated.  There was never any lack of people giving their opinion of how we looked.
     When we all had our items in hand, it was off to the hat section of the market.  The mother duck headed out and the dutiful ducklings followed in a row jostling through the crowds trying to keep Bold in sight.  The hat purchases were almost a replay of the deel shopping experience.  As we tried on the hats, many eyes fixed themselves on us followed by a number of smiles.
     The final stop was to purchase the proper length of non-slick material to use as a belt with our deels.  The 5 foreigners stood around as Bold surveyed the massive amounts of material and listened to each owner laud their goods.  Bold pointed out the differences in the various materials and then sized us up as to how many meters each of us would need.  A short conversation with one of the sellers brought out the scissors quickly, and we were on our way ready to give our best impression of Chinggis Khan or see if we could blend in with the locals.
     Pam was busy during this excursion so, having had the experience, the next weekend I led her and a group of friends to the Black Market to get prepared for Mongolian day at school.  The weather was about 20 degrees colder, so the process was a bit faster but with the same results; everyone ended up with some great looking clothing.

 My buddy Bold

       ISU staff members, Sheena (Ireland), Denze and Toocksa

Name that baby Mongolian style

Hi All,     This was meant to be written before the last post but...  About a month ago a colleague of mine's wife gave birth and I asked what the baby's name is.  His reply, "The baby has no name.  That will be decided in a couple of weeks."  My blank look must have spurred the conversation on.  My friend, Bold, explained that his mother and mother-in-law needed to be at the house and he would invite family to the naming moment.  He also said that the naming responsibility use to lie with the father but a change was in the wind and other family members could have the honor of giving baby "no-name" a moniker.
     My further questions must have prompted the invitation that Pam and I received to be at the baby naming event.  We checked in with Mongolian staff to find out what was appropriate to take as a gift and found that the gifts were really no different than in the States.  Baby clothes, money, disposable diapers and toys were some of the suggestions.
     Baby naming day came and we found ourselves in an old Russian-built apartment filled with wonderful smells, both grandmothers, Bold's immediate family and some brothers and sisters.  We sat in a small living room trying out our Mongolian on the new grandmothers while drinking milk tea and eating sweets.  Fortunately a few family members spoke some English so we all developed a sweat trying to communicate. After some more family arrived it was time to name the nameless.
     Each family member in Bold's immediate family who wanted to submitted a name on a piece of paper that was then buried in a bowl of rice.  Bold then sifted through the rice and pulled out baby nameless's name.  We think Bold's choice of names was drawn.  He then whispered the baby's name to the baby along with well wishes and a kiss and then announced to everyone the baby's name which I can't remember.  Besides the aging process making remembering more difficult Mongolian full names add another 3 difficulty levels to the recall game.  The baby was then passed around to the grandmothers first who repeated the whispering of the baby's name to the baby followed by well wishes and then gifts were placed on top of the kid.  Fortunately there were no plastic bags.
     As the pile of gifts mounted and the baby disappeared from sight the baby's brother cleared the sightline and the whispering of the name, kissing, well wishes and gift piling continued.  Pam and I felt very honored when the baby was handed to each of us.  We whispered away in English and considered it the child's first English lesson.  After the baby was held by everyone he was obviously worn out and was retired to the bedroom to contemplate all the well wishes in dreamland.
     Next, the food was brought out.  It was wonderfully prepared by their Philippine chef who works at their ger camp during the summer.  There was traditional Mongolian soup with mutton and a chicken soup along with baked chickens, chicken fingers, potato chips, soda and salads topped off with an assorted bowl of candies.  We were encouraged to continue attempting the various Mongolian words of the things we were eating.  Needless to say I am going to need many more meals before I have these words down.  As more family came and the space got tighter Pam and I decided to leave realizing we had just shared in a very special event.
        

Two Days Away

     We just returned from the countryside.  This is our fall break so we have a week off.   Pam and two friends of ours went to a place called Mongolian Secret History Ger Camp.  We stayed in large gers with stoves that didn't warm the place up but did take the chill off.  The weather was great so it wasn't a big issue.  This place was tucked back in a valley blanketed with white birch and pine.  The 3.5 km walk from the road was treeless and could have passed for the desert except for hints of farming on the ground.  During the stroll to the camp we had to negotiate herds of cows, sheep and goats as the herder watched from the back of his horse.  I wonder what was going through his mind as he saw four "pointy noses" with backpacks taking pics of animals at a watering hole.
     The weather was amazingly warm.  We were all sweating after the walk from the road where the bus dropped us off.  Once we made it to the camp we were treated to a great meal that needed to be walked off so we headed into the woods and found some fantastic views from the ridge of the surrounding hills.  The camp also offered horse and camel rides.  We took advantage of the horse rides with a guide that spoke no English but kept our horses moving with "chi, chi" from his lips.  The staff was very attentive to our requests even bringing to our ger a thermos of hot water, tea, coffee and the essential fixings.  Once the sun went down we brought out Yahtzee and Cribbage.  We diluted the competitive juices with wine so that we could go to bed and still be talking to each other.  
      We tried out the local transportation which is comfortable and much cheaper than hiring a driver.  The inside of our bus was decorated with purple trappings with lots of tassels and a large screen tv showing a kaleidoscopic image of someone singing.  This provided a topic for conversation for a number of km.  The ger camp is about two hours NW of UB.  Our cab driver took care of us making sure we got the right tickets and bus to our destination.  He even spoke with the bus driver about where we were headed which was not a normal stop.  We climbed onto the bus and plopped down in the front four seats next to the smiling assistant who tried unsuccessfully to communicate with us.  So, there were mostly smiles exchange between us.  After a rest stop we rumbled down the road with the driver's assistant looking at our map.  He then had a quick conversation with the driver who suddenly made an announcement over the loudspeaker and a young man made his way up front.  Putting the puzzle pieces together we figured that they weren't sure where to drop us off and they were looking for someone to translate or read a map.  The guy who came forward didn't seem to be able to do either.  Then the bus stopped in the middle of the road and proceeded to try and make a three point turn with deep ditches on both sides of the road.  Within a moment we were headed back the way we came as groans and interrogative intonations floated through the bus.  We slumped in our seats realizing that we were the cause of this change in direction and thankful that we didn't have to look into the faces of the passengers.  After only a few km the advising committee to the driver decided that the drop off point for the foreigners was further down the road so another 180 degree turn was made.  After coming over a small knoll there was a sign probably 25 ft. high announcing where the ger camp was.  I think I heard a sigh of relief from behind us as the bus door opened and we got off.  The driver and assistant said good-bye with smiles and we felt good that we introduced the locals to their surrounding venues.

Geoff and Pam hydrating before the 3.5 km trek.  Chinggis works well. 

The welcoming party. 

I don't care what the herder said, there's no milk today! 

Ahhh, the finish line! 

Watch out for the low entry way!  She didn't. 

Rick, Pam, Dave & Geoff 

Can you see Russia? 

Our ger by morning light. 

Pam's favorite game.  Yahtzee 

Good food, friends and beers. 

 Where's that Starbucks ger?

Now that I've got staying on the horse down bring me a bow. 

No, It's not Roy Rogers.  The steeds await. 

And I haven't been to the periodontist in 3 months!!! 

Ger innard pics. 

     When we started back to UB the snow was floating to the ground as it is doing presently.  We trekked the 3.5 km to the road and waited for a bus that we were told passed by about each hour.  The local herd of horses and cows kept us entertained as they strolled across the road being defiant to the cars that seemed like they were attempting to break land speed records.   After about 30 mins. a bus flew by with the driver waving to us.    Guessed there weren't any seats left and the aisle was filled.  I focused my binoculars down the road scanning for the next bus when a van stopped and the female driver asked where we were going.  After finding out the price, which was cheaper than the bus, we filled the remaining seats.  10 of us rocked, rolled and bounced our way down the road.  Only Pam was looking forward and she gave very little indication of fear with neither facial expressions nor sounds.  I, however, watched the van sway and wondered how high the center of gravity was and looked for anything to hold onto if we were going to roll.  Obviously we made it back.  We now have some research to do about how the transportation system works here to prepare for our next outing.          

A Week Typique

Black Market Minstrels.  I'm not sure about the accordions but these two drew quite a crowd. 

The happy teacher.  "Can't wait for the massage!!!"

Hi one and all,  Pam is on the mend finally and the Indian Summer weather continues to grace us.  We've been experiencing 20's-30's in the a.m. but by midday we're blessed with 60's.  The blue sky is almost always present since the real cold hasn't hit us causing the gers to fire up their stoves and burn low quality coal.
     I thought you might like an idea of what our typical week is like.  It starts with the horn blowing and the rumble of a train around 5:30 which I still haven't gotten use to.  By about 7:15 Pam and I head off walking to school even though the school sends a bus to pick up staff and students at 7:30.  We tend to pass the same elderly couple each morning and exchange hellos accompanied with vapor steams,  ours in Mongolian and theirs sometimes in English.  The guard at the school gate has a great smile and wave for us upon arrival.  Once at school there is tea and hot water for Nescafe waiting.  This luxury remains at the ready all day taken care of by one of the custodians.
     The school day is made of 8 periods with subjects sometimes being a full block (2 periods).  School starts for the kids at 8:20 and ends at 2:50.  They have classes in 2 languages, art, music, math, science, humanities, PE, design tech (shop) and drama.  There is a break at midmorning for the primary students who usually runaround outside, play foosball, ping pong or shoot pool.  The school has 4 ping pong tables and 2 pool tables along with a foosball table that are used again after lunch when the students have some down time.
     The students participate in after school activities from 3:00-4:00 from Tues. - Thurs.   The number of activities is up to them.  The activities, which we are required to offer, are varied for example, organizing and running recreational activities for severely disabled students from a local school to additional English practice to fly tying/fishing.
     Faculty meetings are Monday afternoons from 4ish to 5:00.  Prior to that teachers meet within their programs to address issues or concerns.
     Wednesdays, the blind masseuse and her husband, who is also a masseuse, come to the school for about 2 hours and offer 20 min. massages for roughly $6.50.  The signup sheet fills up quickly and there is such a demand the couple is staying an extra half hour.  I feel so great afterwards and now that they are staying later Pam is a happy camper.
     Friday mornings is "Shake and Bake" time.  Four staff members bring in breakfast for all the other staff who have committed to bringing in breakfast on a Friday.  It's a great way to get the Friday going.  During the week, we can get croissants, petite pain au chocolate, or a ham and cheese croissant baked by the French chef and his staff.  One bite and you're looking for the Eiffle Tower out the window.
     I have been assigned to give support to the 6th grade class because of the number of struggling students in that grade.  When I'm not in a class with them I'm observing other students of concern from kindergarten to 12 grade.  I meet with teachers to discuss teaching strategies or meet with students to put together organizational plans, offer study techniques or put together behavior plans to address behaviors.   In addition to our teaching duties there are non teaching duties dependent on the number of classes that one teaches.  I have five 20 minute blocks per week.  The day flies by.  The school website is www.isumongolia.edu.mn  There is a weekly news letter on line in English and Mongolian and soon to be in Korean.  This week the visiting accreditation committees are here followed by October break.  Pam and I are hoping to get in some sight seeing with other staff staying here.  Coming up...Naming a baby in Mongolia and a surreal evening of salsa dancing.  Cheers!