Mongolia Man!

MONGOLIA MAN!

San bain uu!! This means hello in Mongolian.! As most of you are aware I will be doing a few month long work stints in Western Mongolia. This of course doesn’t mean I can’t abuse my satellite Internet privileges and update my blog! While I am here I will be conducting water exploration drilling to define sustainable extraction limits of a groundwater resource for a coalmine.

Mongolia feels like the center of attention in the middle of nowhere.  The capital Ulaan Bataar is expanding rapidly and there are plenty of developments going on. Its one of those cities where you always need to be looking where you are going or you may fall down a man hole or tumble over a random pile of rubble. I however am working in Khovd in the far west of Mongolia, a 2-hour flight and a 5-hour car trip into the mountains. The steppes are vast and palatial, as your eyes gaze up from the grand plains the view is replaced by an eternity of vivid green rolling hills only to be superseded in the distance by snow capped peaks being circled by screeching hawks endeavoring to define their next meal.

My trip has been fortunate enough to coincide with the Nadam festival, which is the biggest holiday in Mongolia. Not so good if you are trying to get supplies delivered to your mine site because truck drivers have to stop to see all their relatives along the way, however a great festival none the less. The festival is a celebration of liberation from a former oppressor and is defined by horse races, wrestling and the drinking of many litres of vodka.  I was lucky enough to visit the local village as they celebrated this event…once again being the only white person there and feeling like a complete outsider (I was very quick to strip out of my fluorescent yellow mining clothes, and slip into a trendy flanny).  The main event at the festival was a 20km horse race along the Mongolian plains. These however are not your everyday horse races. The contenders are children aged 3-5 riding stocky Mongolian horses which we clocked riding at 80km/h as we cheered them on riding in our 4wd drives beside them. Naturally I cannot describe properly what this is like or what this land is really like so I made a video to sum up my experience in Mongolia. Enjoy!!! 

A typical shopping adventure

With Jason had gone away I figured (as well as hijacking the blog (although I'm still limited to writting in italics)) I should indulge myself in some girly shopping. Thankful some of the Aussie girls were also in need of some new clothes so we headed off to Makola Markets.

The markets I think can be pretty much described as crazy awesome.

Crazy:

Now when I say ‘markets’ what I really mean is a city block that’s jammed full of people – most trying to sell something.

 

The basic layout of the street goes:

proper shops

a bit of a footpath

people with stalls set up on the side of the footpath

road

a line of ladies with their hands full of clothes

line of buyers

cars/motorbikes/trucks/carts/cyclists/people with giant bundles on their head.

Of course these are all blurred together so in the end it just feels like there are people and things everywhere

 If you want to get the best deal you basically need to walk along the road – trying not to get hit by the cars/motorbikes/trucks/carts/cyclists and people with giant bundles on their heads all the time scanning the piles of clothes the women are holding, trying to assess if there’s anything good and if it’s in your size, while also trying to avoid pick-pocketers and outspoken thirteen year old boys who insist they’ve got the perfect bra for you. (sure buddy – I don’t really want to know if you do).

 

Awesome:

The up side is that if you manage to successfully pull off this manoeuvre you can get a pretty good new work skirt or top for around 3-6 cedis (a couple of Aussie dollars).

Of course the other good way to get some funky new clothes is to get them made. There are a few challenges involved, the first of which is picking out a colourful fabric from the thousands on offer.

The next important thing is to find yourself an awesome tailor. There are plenty to choose from with a tailor on almost every corner of the city. One of the other Aussie girls wanted to introduce us to hers (as he is apparently Ghana’s answer to chic). And she was right - I knew from the moment Eric walked in the door with a stereotypical fashion designer attitude and a blazer made up of small squares of different bright, out-there African fabrics that he was definitely the man for the job. I'll let you know how my dress turns out.