Today and Yesterday

This entry is more or less part 2 of the last two blog entries.  I'll update you from the last entry.

It's still cold but.....this past weekend the temps were in the negative teens which felt like spring.  I was able to spend time at the black market, known locally as Naren Tuul Tsx hatless and mitten less without fear of frostbite.  What an experience! This rivaled taking a shower the other day and not getting water on the floor after alterations were made to the tub that is tilted so that more water falls to the floor than the drain.  Pam and I were amazed at our level of excitement over these two moments.  One still has to practice being aged by shuffling around many places in town because of the massive ice sheets on the sidewalks and roads.  The few breaks come at frozen puke spots, which there are quite a number of, and high usage areas.  There is almost always a gorgeous blue sky that offsets the grayer moments.

Our first peddle taxi ride 

People must have thought we were famous because they kept asking to have their pics taken with us.

The local brew

Nerves, buns and legs of steel

Sunset in Java

Our first hotel room due to my disorientation

Our 2nd hotel to compensate for my blunder

Our final hotel, great price, location and service

Java volcanos and countryside

Borabudur Temple - taking a break after walking around the top 7 times for good karma.  Being able to successfully negotiate the crowd proved that it worked. 

Reminded me of sandcastles we'd make on the Jersey Shore.

Prambanan Temple, ran out of camera battery "sigh"

We left Bali and flew to Java since we had a week before heading back to Mongolia.  We spent the week in Yogyakarta, a university town with 2 World Heritage sites, many batik makers and lots of peddle taxis.  We began our visit with scrambling for a hotel two days before New Years because the hotel reservation I made turned out to be several hundred kilometers away from where we were.  I should have had the map of Java in front of me.  We then spent New Years Eve many kilometers away from the city in a beautiful resort with the promise that there was to be a great jazz party.  The great party, by midnight, turned out to be about 8 people singing karaoke with a local female "professional" singer.  It was a first for both of us.  The next day we moved back into the center of the town and stayed at a new hotel that had a disco type motif with an absolutely wonderful staff that catered to our needs.  We rented a driver and visited both heritage sites, Borobudur and Prambanan.  You should Google them and then start saving for a visit.  The peddle taxis were such an enjoyable way to see the town and very reasonable even before bargaining.  The week flew by and soon we were back in Bali fighting with Korean Air about the screw up with our flight itinerary.  We lost round one and had to spend an additional $400 to get back to Seoul.  We did make it back to UB without having to spend hundreds more.  We are presently trying to get reimbursed for the airline's admitted mistake so the war is not over.    

 

BRRRRRRRRRRRRR

Well, we thought we were looking forward to getting away from the heat and humidity of Indonesia, but we've returned to a cold that I've never experienced.  During the day it is often -25C+ and the temperature often dips into the mid -30's to low -40'sC.  For those that aren't familiar with the conversion rate -40C = -40F.  When we decide that we need to go out, we put on the wool socks (camel is amazingly warm), fleece coat or vest, scarf, down coat, neckgaiter, fleece headband and my nearly famous fox hat.  We don't have much snow so I can get by with hiking boots which give me more traction than my -40 Sorels.  Pam opts for the shearling lined boots and the rest of the uniform that's needed if you're out for more than 30 seconds.  The ritual of preparing to go out is performed every day since we still walk to school the approximate mile which takes about 15-20 minutes depending on if the guard (?) dogs that may be protecting vacant land decide that they need to warm up and run at us. 

Cutting across this field shortens our walk a bit, but we're faced with possibly changing our route due to construction that's started and the lesser of two evils, attacking dogs or traffic.  So far it is still the dogs only because we can protect ourselves with a stick as opposed to being helpless against a driver wanting to inch forward in the daily traffic jams.  I have noticed that the traffic does appear less congested since the cold freezes up engines quickly.  People that own cars need to garage them, which is not cheap, or periodically start them during the day and let them idle.  We were patting ourselves on the back today for not buying a vehicle which was a consideration when we first got here.

The snow that falls periodically turns to ice which tests balance, decision making (is there any snow to walk on?) and reaction time.  There have been a few moments when I possibly look like I'm having a grand mal seizure while trying to stay on my feet.  Pam has what is equivalent to tire chains for her shoes that were bought in Seoul.  I did see a way to reduce unemployment the other day on a walk to the market.  On the back of a truck filled with sand was a man shoveling it onto the road.  The temp fortunately was in the low -20's.

Fur is a huge seller here: fox, rabbit, mink and many others that I haven't learned the words to positively identify them.  The fox hat I have is by far the warmest hat I've ever owned and  gives me the false impression that I again have a full head of hair.  Wearing the hat and all suited up for the cold, I was actually mistaken for a Mongolian last night.  There are some Mongolians that must have very different DNA.  We've seen them without hats or gloves and only wearing fur-lined leather jackets walking around town or shopping at the Black Market.  We are dumbfounded when we consider our arsenal of clothing.  What we do have does the trick most of the time unless there is a breeze blowing.  Fortunately, that is not very often, but there are moments when our eyelashes freeze together or  snotcicles develop. 

The Mongolians do have their tried and true pieces of warmth.  Yak, camel, sheep and goat wool (cashmere) are fantastic.  The fur items do the trick, and felt is a staple for combating the cold.  The folks that sell their wares at the open air Black Market also wear felt boots which make one wonder if they are related to Big Foot.  To give one more standard of how tough Mongolians are against the cold, people were shooting pool outdoors last weekend.

In addition to the cold, we also contend with pollution.  There are many gers (yurts) in and around UB that heat with a low grade coal.  My understanding is that a couple of winters ago it was brutally cold and there was an abnormal amount of snow that prevented livestock from feasting on the dried grass. Many Mongolian herders lost so much livestock that they decided to move to the capital to try and make a living.  We have been told by some of the vets that on the bad days, which happen often in the winter, breathing the local air can be like smoking up to 4 packs of cigarettes.  However, some of our colleagues who have lived in Hong Kong and Beijing claim that those places surpass the worst UB can muster.  What a title to hold!!!  Fortunately, we live and work on the south side of the city, so the sky looks a lighter shade of grey.  When the airflow changes, usually in the afternoon, the beautiful blue Mongolian sky reemerges along with the mountains.

My friend Andy from Alaska preparing mentally to combat the dogs as we cross THE FIELD.

The pollution has dissipated.  This is looking in the opposite direction of the above pic. 

Bye, honey!  See you when I get home.

The Black Market

Let's see...which hat will be the warmest?

                                                                        Ger in Winter

Bali & Beyond

Wow! Is it HOT & HUMID!!! Those words were often followed by "Let's get a beer to maintain our stamina!"  This was our holiday vacation, which covered approximately 3 weeks.  We chose Bali because a childhood friend of Pam's lives in India, and she has a friend who lives in Ubud, Bali and so it made sense to us to meet there for the holidays. Follow the logic??? 

Our trip started with searching for some clothing not designed for -20 to -40 degree weather since we left from Seoul without any summer clothes.  Kuta, a tourist town with a beach filled with a lot of foreigners looking to drink, surf and party all night long, was also a great place to find what we needed with seemingly thousands of locals wanting to meet our needs in their shops.  With the clothing issue addressed, we headed to the beach for some relaxation.  Got to the beach slowly ( I'm not as quick on crutches as I used to be) and then convinced the local entrepreneurs at the beach that we didn't need anything.  Still having staples in my leg kept me out of the deep water, but Pam headed into the great surf to refine her body surfing.  I was entertained by wannabe surfers learning the fundamentals to conquer the giant curls.  We were a bit disappointed with the beach.  The name Bali conjures up beautiful images of beaches for many people, but the reality is that in Kuta there is trash on the beach and in the water just like many other beaches that we've been to.  Not all the beaches are sand. That surprised us.  Some have good sized stones that make getting to the water a challenge.

We had a great hotel on the main drag with a beautiful roof top pool and outdoor dining, and it was surprisingly quiet.  After two days of that, we met up with Pam's friend Tobi and her partner, Rahul, and happily left for the interior town of Ubud. 

Ubud is known as an artist and cultural center.  That it is.  Batik clothing and artwork, beautiful wood carvings that included penis handled bottle openers, jewelry and reed goods.  The transportation on the island looks like a battle scene from Lord of the Rings without the carnage.  Cars and motorbikes battle for control of the road.  The horn is probably the most important part of the car and the helmet for the motorbikers.  There are the "I'm invincible" younger folks that I can only presume think their skulls are thicker than a helmet, or they believe their reaction times can easily handle any situation that presents itself.

We stayed at a gorgeous villa that belongs to Steve, a doctor friend of Tobi.  He was a fantastic host with a staff that catered to all of our wants and needs.  We started out our stay being Steve's only guests but, after two days, the numbers of friends and family grew to over twenty.  Many of Steve's friends have worked with AIDS victims or relief agencies which led to many interesting discussions about the efficiency of NGO's and government agencies to address the needs of the people they are supposed to be serving.

To get to downtown Ubud from Steve's, we had to negotiate the Sacred Monkey Forest.  The macaque monkeys rule here.  They roam free and entertain and/or terrorize the more ?? developed relatives.  On our first stroll through the forest, one tourist said that she had been bitten by one of the monkeys, which Steve said carried some disease that could kill the bitee.  That info was enough to stop us from feeding the monkeys or from having them jump onto us for picture sake.  We were warned not to carry anything in plastic bags because the monkeys had figured out that plastic bags often contained food.  We witnessed the quasi paramilitary coordinated attacks by some of the monkeys to snatch plastic bags from their more advanced brethren and then rifle throughout the contents for food.  If they came up empty-handed, they would leave the bag looking a bit displeased.

Pam and I got to experience scuba diving and loved it.  We felt like we were extras in Finding Nemo 2 swimming beside iridescent, rainbow colored fish of all sizes and shapes.   We had a great instructor from Spain who guided us around the ocean bottom near a ship wreck.  We were diving in about 8-9 meters of water with 20-30 meters of visibility.  The fish were stunning, and a highlight was swimming with a huge school of Jack fish and then sitting on the bottom watching these 2 foot silver swimmers circle us with numbers in the 100's. 

We visited a few temples that required us to put on sarongs, passed rice fields filled with plants at various stages of maturity, drove past active volcanos, and marveled at the jungle plants.  It was a fantastic experience accentuated by the wonderful, good natured, friendly, helpful Balinese people.  From here we headed off to Java when Tobi and Rahul returned to India.

Where did I leave Dave?

Steve's 25 meter pool at the villa.

Pam pissed this guy off since she had no food and she's happy about it.

The stare down.  I lost.

The thorn and the buds.  Pam's childhood friend Tobi.

Rice fields in the rain.

The entrance to the Pura Luhur Batukau Hindu temple. 

The worshipers.

Pam speaking with her eyes.  It's a good thing I don't speak eyeballs.

The Pura Luhur Batukau Temple

Is there a right and left?

How many beers did you say I could have before diving?

The neighborhood.

Visitors

 

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.