I decided to write this blog for all of those people who
are mad at me for not writing in such a very long time (which could, honestly,
just be me). My lack of communication is for no other reason than I have not
had the time. Which is more to say that a time for me to write just hasn’t come.
To be honest, I have had more than enough time to be able to write something.
It just hasn’t come from me.
Maybe my mind has gone into hibernation with my body. The
weather here is a high of about -20 Celsius, which is something like -4
Fahrenheit (today it’s right around a warm -34 F). Each trip to the outhouse is
like a little bout of masochism. Each morning waking up like, I assume, a pig
would in a butcher’s freezer…if it could open its eyes. It comes as no
surprise, then, that my ass has suffered a minor burn from leaning too close to
the stove during one of my morning fires. But I can’t really be upset with
myself. In the end, all I get is a comedic story to tell about how I burned my
ass on a Mongolian stove. Plus I avoided burning polyester and elastic into my
ass by having my long underwear riding a little too low…phew.
And that’s about the biggest news I’ve had since the last
time I wrote. There have been plenty of ups and downs, plenty of drama, and a
bearable amount of stress. Funny how everyday frustrations can disappear just
through recurring every day. Lack of communication skills has not prevented me
from meeting very interesting, friendly, and loving people. And it hasn’t
prevented me from meeting the opposites either. Mongolia is not such a different
world. Culture, seen one way, is a people’s way of dealing with the problems
that the world presents. But most of our problems are the same. It’s just the
interpretation and response to these problems that makes us appear different.
Take the cold as an example. Americans still deal with the problem…just as much
as Mongolians. The difference is that Americans have a different response to
the cold. They leave an electrically heated home to go out and start the car 10
minutes before they leave so it can warm up so they don’t have to deal with
freezing cold steering wheels and leather seats. Then they walk the, maybe, 100
yards to their place of work (which is also heated).
Mongolians, however, do not have reliable housing
situations where electric heating could be considered safe. So, they employ the
strategy of making consistent fires, even throughout the night, and layering
when they leave the house. A thick pair of Camel hair socks, fur-lined boots,
two pairs of long-underwear, jeans, a long-sleeved undershirt, a dress shirt, a
jacket, and a traditional del (basically an oversized, fur-lined bathrobe). But
no hat, unless they have made it to UB where they can buy one of those
traditional Russian hats for around $200 American, or a rip-off in the black
market that’s made with dog hair for about $20. Then they walk to work, where,
if they are lucky (like I happen to be here), the building is heated.
Their difficulties have little to do with a lack of
personal money. Many Mongolians have cars and could afford to drive to work
every morning if they chose to do so (and some do). But it is seen as frivolous
here (more so in small towns where globalized culture has less of an impact).
After all, most residents of small towns live within a 15-minute walk of their
workplace; and, those that don’t live in the countryside as herdsmen. Plus, the
non-paved roads make it almost more time-consuming to drive from one side of
town to the other. Fact is, it’s hard to compare America to Mongolia. The only
things Mongolians can’t typically afford are American import items (here, an
iPod that costs $250 in America, costs about $400). Another example. I bought a
1 TB hard drive for $100 in the US, but a 250 GB hard drive costs $150 here.
Supply and demand, I suppose. It probably ends up being American ex-pats or
tourists who buy these things in Mongolia anyways. It’s a very new experience
living in a country that is developing so quickly. Peace Corps volunteers just
5 years ago must have had a very different experience. I often find myself
wondering what it was like for them…I highly doubt many kept blogs or even used
the internet at all. But here I am, sitting on Facebook, checking up on
friends, Facetiming with my family. 3rd world?? Huh.
Well, I think I’ve had enough
for the day. Love to all, Ben
