Tuesday, October 28, 2008

To the UB temples

From Susan
10/16/08

Our taxi driver is surprised we want a drive up the hill. I wish him sain bain uu. He offers us a snuff bottle from the glove compartment. A gentleman and a fine host. I decline. I have no snuff to offer in return and it is 9 AM. Guess I’m getting older. He drives us as close as he can to the largest temple in the compound, past the hawkers to the pigeon plaza. Dwarfs offer to sell us pigeon feed, but we’ve come to hear the chants and see the statues. First we attend the active monastery school, Then we find an appropriate goddess to gift a US quarter. I liked the green Tara, it seemed so Southern, facing south on a cold almost snowy day.

We unearthed the most wonderful espresso/konditorei near the center of UB. Ushered to an Ultrasuede love seat, given a coffee menu, and a remote to a 40 inch flat screen, we advanced ten centuries in a day. BBC Singapore was our first news of the world in ten days.

Next was the Choijin Lama's Buddhist monastery museum. We expected the peaceful Buddhist images of the morning, but instead found this:



Maybe it’s time to go back to China where Chingiss Khan is not revered. Back to the land of chestnuts, walnuts and citrus fruit. No more small apples and mutton. Went to the UB market and found



at 8000T per box (about 7.75 USD)Time to leave NOW!

Sunday, October 26, 2008

We See the Warriors









The work continues.























from Leah:
This is something I've wanted to do ever since the original discovery of the terra cotta warriors.

The first emperor of China, founder of the Qing dynasty and the first to unite the area, buried these thousands of terra cotta warriors in the area surrounding his tomb. The actual tomb has been robbed and damaged, and excavators haven't opened up much as a result. but the warriors themselves are unforgettable.

The Chinese government has erected a very beautiful structure over the actual dig site, and the excavation work is ongoing. The figures in some of the pits are intact, while others still lay there in a damaged state. There are also mounds in the pits that look promising, still untouched.

The warriors stand at attention in rows. Some are archers. Some carried weapons, now gone, or held the reins of reduced-scale bronze chariots (the chariots now stand in an adjacent museum), or tend to their horses. The bodies resemble one another, but the faces and hair styles or helmets all vary.

It seems that they were all once alive and the place was once filled with the sounds of armor and shouts and horses. it's eery to think they were always this silent, always standing guard, against... what?

More Things We've Seen on Menus

braised dragon bones
stir fried chicken cartilage with fruit
towel gourd and whitebait
pork neck with vegetable marrow
lotus seed lily pawpaw pot
braised goose feet with abalone sauce

Saturday, October 25, 2008

At the Great Wall

I can't describe the sensation of history and power and of just touching a vestige of something of this scope long gone -- its majesty and brutality. We can't carry a sense of such vast national history as part of our identity, as Americans; our country is in its infancy. I do carry that as a Jew, but that particular sense of history is also a great burden...






Down below are dozens of stalls, agressive hawkers, and crowds of mainly Chinese tourists. We had to get through this going and coming.









There are notches in the wall for mounting guns and cannon.



Walking it was quite a workout.









Oh, the blog is all out of order, but we've got to take you back to Beijing because we went from there to the Great Wall! We went up by cable car...

More Things We've Seen on Menus

Double boiled sheep's stomach
Snow frogs
jellyfish
pig's tummy

Ger Time

From Susan
10/14-5/08

Have you ever done something and later thought, did I really do that? That was my trip to the ger. Booking a riding trip, was Plan 2 after the trip to Moron was not to be. I haven't been on a horse since Pascagoula and I knew this was not getting me a Cadette badge.

We booked the trek with www.stepperiders.com. Our guesthouse owner, Idre, said he thought someone had stolen their horses, but they were good people and wouldn't commit unless they could take us. I think Idre wanted to book something for us, but he got his $21/night and $2.50 per load of laundry, so how could he complain? Buy me toiletpaper, furnish me a towel and then we can talk.

Mindee, the owner, chauffeur, guide, and wrangler collected us in a 4 wheel drive stick Hyandai. We met his wife and brother in law. Like all Mongolians, they had perfectly straight white teeth. High literacy, good dental hygiene, dearth of paper products. We drove through the southern suburbs of Ulan Bataar(passing the Gobi cashmere store factory outlet) past Nadeem horse compounds to Zummod. We left the real road, then the rutted path, then, well, I think he made it up. A motorcycle zooms in from nowhere, and a striking young man in full deel, begins yelling at Mindee. Mindee follows him to a flat spot with two gers; a blue landcruiser is parked to the right of the ger near the sheep/goat pen.

If you've read the previous posts, you know we witnessed a sheep become mutton while having milk tea around a dung fire. As Leah said, "If we're going to pick up a parasite, this is the place". Still uncertain about parasite ingestion, but I did learn how to play a type of dice with sheep ankle bones (Depending how your ankle lands, it could be a sheep horse,camel, or goat.), while eating a least six varieties of cheese curds. Mindee asked me if I ate the insides of a sheep stomach. Being politic, I asked if that was what was required for tonight's dining. He said, no and that he thought the innards were nasty. I asked what type of milk we were drinking. He conferred with Donya, paused and they both decided it was cow's milk. Leah and I decided thaey thought this was the right response. Deel man entered the ger to tell Mindee he had found enough horses, time to ride! I scooted over the chitlin cleaners and went to my ger to add two more layers of pants.

The guys had started our own dung fire! It was already beginning to feel like home! Our beds had six blankets each.

We mounted the horses. For a short horse, it seemed quite high. It didn't go fast, and I let it graze after finding a handhold. The steppe landscape was raw,short grass covered the hills to a point, then shards of fine grained metamorphic rock. Mindee admitted he bought these horses in the Gobi and they might not be used to rocky slopes. Unhuh. Mine stopped. While walking the horse down the mountain, and I might add not on the smart side of the slope, I saw two steppe eagles. They nested in a larch grove several hills west of our camp site. After several hours, it was back to the ger.

The chitlin cleaners were gone, but the skin remained. Leah learned how to flick dung into a basket held over her shoulder and I learned to balance over the pit latrine in three layers of pants. I found a Shamanistic altar or perhaps a grave on a hilltop. There was a wordless comic book depicting the fires of hell, a vodka bottle, a blue painted ram's horn and a green painted ram's horn. Something had been burned, too.

Donya's ger was a lively roadhouse. For no electricity or running water, well no water at all, it was the place to stop for at least two other parties that evening. Dinner was a stew of mutton, turnips, carrots, potatoes, and tomatoes. Store bread and jam were offered. A dairy product of undetermined fermentation and origin was offered as a bread spread. It was the same color as the morning tea cheese curds, so, when in Tor Amig, do as they do. Donya had an inexhaustible supply of dung for the fire. I wondered if we had enough for the night, the gunny sack looked small. We stepped over the sheep's skin and went to our ger at 8:30 PM. So many constellations were visible! We moved the two beds together near the stove and stoked the fire.

We make it through the night, although our dung fire is out. The next morning I hear someone stoking the fire. I know Leah is not my dung stoker, so I pretend to be asleep. Leah is out of ger and I hear cows, so perhaps they are being photographed. I go out to a snow sky; I will not be riding, it is really cold. Danya fixes milk tea, fried bread, another cheese curd derivative and some of the previous night’s stew. The food is excellent. What does one gift a 61 year old, completely self sufficient ger woman? I give her two Shabbos candles and a jar opener and she gives us this:



We are blessed. Driving to UB, I ask the brother in law about a roadside monument. He only knows it is Buddhist. How do you know it’s Buddhist? I ask. He makes a face and replies, “It has fish. They eat fish.” Completely unpalatable to a herdsman.

Friday, October 24, 2008

More Thoughts on Chinese Toilets

Squatting means never touching the seat at all -- actually more hygenic than sitting down.
Good position. Conducive, if you know what I mean.
Builds thigh muscles.
It's a good place to organize your money without anyone watching.
Most of them flush automatically. You don't even have to touch a handle.
Almost all of the bathrooms have sinks and hand dryers that turn on automatically as well. Great germ control. No paper trash.
All this makes the fact that most of the bathrooms smell bad, some are disgusting, and the fact that you are expected to put your used toilet paper into a trash can next to the toilet rather than flush it, irrelevent. Sort of.

PS If you're ever going to Mongolia, go to China first. You'll be so grateful for the western bathrooms in Mongolia, the poor food and broken sidewalks and high prices there won't seem so bad.