Mongol TV

So Mongolian Radio and TV Studio (where I work...or don't work) is a harkening back to the 1950s. The building was built around 1967 by the communists, but nowadays it's too big for its own good. Women make up about 75% of the workers (or non-workers) there. Many are either secretaries or beaucracy clerks. Some of them are TV technicians. In each room, a whole lot of tea and coffee drinking is going on. A whole lot of newspaper reading is going on. A whole lot of Solitaire is played on the computers. And maybe 15% of the workforce is actually at work on something (editing video footage, typing manuscripts for TV commercials, typing written requests for United States visas, those sorts of things). On July 1st, Mongol TV loses its State subsidies and becomes a public television station. They also lose their monopoly of the airwaves. How do you say "Bon voyage, comrade" in Russian?

I have a bad feeling about it all. One of their largest studios is used for a talkshow program that is on hiatus until August. For now, it sits empty, waiting for a host. Mongol TV is for sure overstaffed and inefficient (they still pay Mongol artists to hand-draw cartoons on paper), so staying competitive in an ever-increasing crowded market would certainly mean the closing of the builiding. It would certainly require vast upgrades of technology (where would the money come from?). Just yesterday I talked with a video editor who lost all of her edits because a computer crashed. She was in the process of re-digitizing hours and hours of tapes.

What I predict is that Mongol public TV will only last a short while. They're studio and building will be bought out by a private company and MPBS (Mongol Public Broadcasting) will be no more.

But I'm cynical. And I have to be. I couldn't think of a more depressing place to spend a summer than in Ulaanbaatar. Millions of square miles of vast steppe is just a hop over some mountains, but I have to stay in UB. I'm developing a persistent cough because of all the pollution and dust. The food is uninspiring. Mongol drivers show absolutely no respect for human life or patience. Every day I see road rage. Walking on broken glass is a must, and I see women doing it daily in their high heels. I spend hours at a time all by myself in empty rooms. The Mongols baby me and escort me everywhere. All I want to do is see my girlfriend. Who could be cheerful at a time like this?

At least the children are cute. And everywhere. One smiled and waved at me from a bus. Another said "Hi" to me as I walked by. I said "Hello" back, and he parroted it to himself. These little things will soon take over the unpleasant things...

UB or not UB, that is the question

I just love China and the Chinese and how they like to take you on a trip around the block and then make you pay for it. At the airport, I had the simple question: Where do I check-in? So the "handy" airport help ushered me upstairs, down a long, long hallway, knocked on a few doors, knocked on a few more doors, finally taking me around the building one more time before pointing down to the check-in counters (about where I was standing when I asked him in the first place). And then, he demanded 20 yuan. $2.15 for nothing! I gave him 10 yuan to shut up and walked away.

Anyway, so I'm in Ulaanbaatar now. Yesterday my host family met me at the airport and drove me to their apartment (which they just moved into a few days ago, so everything's in disarray). Their oldest son speaks the best English, so it's fine when he's around. The father speaks very little. The mother speaks it enough to understand me when I tell her "I'm going to the internet cafe for two hours," so that's good.

Ulaanbaatar is crowded, pockmarked, crumbling, and traffic-jammed. I live in a "new" apartment building, which really just means the interior was renovated while the exterior is left without a paintjob. Anything that is not really REALLY necessary to build or install, isn't. Things like grassy lawns, or lawns at all, is nonsensical in a place that freezes over come October. It seems that if Mongols want some fresh air and green grass, they just get in their brand new SUV and drive a few miles out of town. Beyond UB, the land is wild and untamed.

But in UB, which is where I'll be most of my time here, it's a different picture. The streets are too small to accomodate everyone's SUV. In the words of my host mother, "Mongols drive like they ride their horses." Rough and tumble.

Powerlines are everywhere. People are everywhere (along the main routes at least...on the sidestreets in residential areas, it's actually quite peaceful). The only thing to keep me awake at night is the next-door neighbor using a powertool to drill nails in the wall. That, and howling dogs, screaming babies. These things echo loudly between the apartment bloc buildings.

I get my own room with my Mongol host family. I feel sort of bad about it. The two parents sleep in a queen size bed with two of their youngest children. The other two oldest boys share a room with a bunkbed. I get my own room with a door that opens to a balcony (that overlooks pockmarked apartments, but still). I get a mattress (the boys sleep on mats) and a desk with ample closet space. Half of my room sits unoccupied. But, when you consider I'm paying a considerable amount per month for rent ($200; the avg. mongol makes $50/month), the host family is making a good, healthy profit off of me. If it will help put their oldest son through medical school, than all the better.

The food is generally good. Last night my host mom made stir-fry. Tonight she promises a "traditional" mongol dish. Today at work I ate Mongol cafeteria food and it actually tasted very American (something maybe served at dinner in the plains states...those places still untouched by International Cuisine and all its ethnocentric fallout).

I've also decided to change my travel dates and return to the States two weeks early. I need extra time to prepare for my senior year in college, among other reasons. Mr. Batzorig, my boss, supports my decision and will even help me change my ticket at the local airline office.

I need to go soon, so I won't go into details about Mongol TV (where I'll be working), except that it will be VERY flexible (i can set my own hours) and I will be teaching/tutoring workers there in English skills (at least for the first few weeks). Also, I'll have to take a bus to and from work every day. That should be a happy nightmare from time to time...

Over and out til next time (the Net cafe is a block away from where I'm living, so it's a cinch to do this email thing, for good or ill).

The Great Wall part two

So the hike was probably one of the best hikes of my life. It was both sweaty, rugged, scenic, AND historic. If you ever visit the Great Wall (at least a "developed" site) visit the one at Jinshanling and hike the wall to Simitai (it's recommended by Lonely Planet, and for good cause). It was funny when our guide motioned for us to get on the cable car that would take us a good portion up the wall but nobody followed him, instead deciding they wanted the FULL hike, with all the uphills. The guide was the only one in the cable car, looking foolish.

Reaching the end of the hike, there is a Zip line from the mountainside, over a lake, and to a boat that will take you to the parking lot. I took it for $3. Cheap thrill indeed. I wish I could post pictures along with these posts, but images will just have to wait until I get back to the States.

Also, I've made some quick observations of China, and here they are:

- Full color billboards showing what a place is supposed to be like (serene, lush) and the actual site (concrete and dirt) behind it. - One hand on wheel, other hand on car horn. - Roadside fruitstands every 50 meters. - Persistent salesmen. - Third world housing conditions in a country that thinks its First world. - No trees taller than 20 feet. In fact, hardly any trees at all. - People who inhabit the Great Wall (what a great existence...) - Thick smog/haze. - Bike culture vs. Car culture - People whose job it is to take your empty bottle or can of soda after you've finished (at the major tourist destinations and public parks) but they don't wait for you to finish and will pester you to gulp the last half down so they can take it. - Buildings (even gas stations) built on a grand, epic scale. - Sky cranes littering the skyline. - Either they don't percieve risks, or we perceive risks too acutely.

*disclaimer: these observations are based solely on time spent in Beijing and the Great Wall and in between. Exceptions to these are bound to pop up all across China (it's a BIG country), especially Tibet*

Great Wall part one

I hiked a portion of the Great Wall that few dare attempt. The drive to get there from Beijing takes 4 hours. Since so few people go, the souvenir hawkers can zero in on you and follow you for many miles. The inclines are dizzying, the descents are loose rock slip-n-slides. The total mileage is 10K (6 miles), but it took me 3 hours, 15 minutes. The only other tourists in the area were from the two buses of youth hostellers (twentysomethings) that I went up there with.

Oddly, the only injury I sustained on the Great Wall occurred when I squeezed out of my seat on the bus, scraping my leg on something sharp and probably rusty. It left a huge gash that bled for 10 minutes. Luckily I brought a small First Aid kit. Ironically, 3 other bus-riders disembarked from bus-related injuries as well.

The hike was as scenic as they come. Horizon to horizon, endless Wall stretching over ridgelines and down into valleys all the way into the hazy distance. A few raindrops fell, but went unnoticed. The curious thing about this hike were the hawkers. There were two types:

- the type that sat in the doorways to the watchtowers, yelling out "Water, Beer, Coka." These were the most annoying because they were in EVERY watchtower, so just when I wanted to take a seat and rest, I couldn't. If I stopped at a watchtower, these hawkers badgered you senseless.

- the other type was a "stalker" type. they zeroed in on you, for some reason deciding you were the target market for their picture books, postcards, and/or t-shirts. There were enough of these types (most all of them were middle-aged woman) to have one "stalker" to every tourist on the wall.

I picked up my "stalker" about 100 meters along the wall. At first she just asked me my name, pointed out some sights, and reminded me to "be careful" when navigating a steep slope. About 2 miles into it, she started hawking her wares. I persisted with my No's and my ignoring her products. At one point she told me "I'm Mongolie farmer. We eat corn." and I think that the intention was sympathy.

Well, I finally got rid of her by "outpacing" her. I knew she would give up once she said, "Buy a t-shirt and I go home." So I kept walking. She gave up.

I felt an air of accomplishment.

More on the Great Wall later....

Chinese Dining

I finally ventured out into the wild Beijing night in search of an authentic Chinese dinner. Once again I was accompanied by an Irish guy (in Croatia, I befriended an Irishman too). I think I get along well with the Irish--they're brash but down to earth in a way the Brits are not. The both of us were dressed way too casual for the outing, but what the hell? Many Chinese gave us looks, but don't stare for too long. This is Beijing after all. While roaming the streets, we spotted a flicker of neon down some alleyway (neon usually means "food" or "shopping"). So we ventured inside. Turns out it's packed with Chinese families--so it must be good eating. We motioned for a table. Nobody spoke any English, nor did we speak any Chinese (the entire night consisted of pointing and gesticulating). They sat us in the window as "dressing" for passerby to gawk at. Luckily they had a picture menu for us foreign folk, but gave us absolutely no time to look at the menu with any detail before making our order. We ended up ordering 6 items: -Delicious Chicken (swimming in chili powder soup) -Duck Soup (lots of skin, very little meat) -Sweet and sour Chicken (tasted familiar...best item we picked) -Egg Fried Rice -White rice/wild rice mixed -Another meat dish that was extremely spicy and had tiny itty-bitty bones in it (thus: unedible).

Obviously this was twice as much food as we could eat. It was ready in 5 minutes. I took a few bites of the "delicious chicken" and the unedible menu item and instantly my lips, tongue, and throat burned with wicked fury. I tried washing the hotness down with beer, but beer only made it worse. The best dishes were the rice and sweet and sour chicken. The duck soup wasn't bad either.

...Next Time: The Great Wall...

Beijing, part 2

Day Two: Beijing

Today I hopped on a guided tour of Tianeman Square, the Forbidden City, the Summer Palace, and the Temple of Heaven. A full day of site-seeing and a buffet lunch for $26 ain't bad. Beijing is so confusing and haphazard (and I'm so jet-lagged and disoriented) that I didn't want to risk a major headache to get to these places on my own. So I met up with 4 other people from 3 other major hotels (one 50-year old wife from Carmel, CA; one 60-year old Scottish lady; and a 30-something couple from Argentina) and we strolled the day away.

Amazingly, we all got along.

Tomorrow I hike 10K along the Great Wall and spend the night there, too!

Down and Out in China

Well folks, I'm in Asia now, trying not to breathe Beijing's smog-polluted air or drink its bacteria-laced water. So far I've survived, though. I've even crossed a busy street and learned the "way to cross" by observing other Chinese. I guess red lights don't really mean you can't Go. If traffic or pedestrians are sparse, no problem. We walk out into the middle of the road and wait for an opening. I feel I might see someone get pulverized by a speeding Hyundai in the next few days. It's only inevitable.

My success story: fending off scores of "tourist hunters" at the airport who wanted me to come with them in a joyride taxi to the city center, Tianeman, and who knows where else. The scam was in the price: 300 RMB. I kept saying no thank you until I found the shuttle bus ticket counter (16 RMB for a trip downtown). Score! But then the bus drops us all off in the middle of nowhere and I was helpless and confused and finally agreed to let some men give me a ride to the Beijing Central train station (they pointed at a minivan; but I ended up climbing into a pedal-power rickshaw). An old man huffed and puffed all the way to where I wanted to go (8 blocks away) for 30 RMB. Then I get out and a man grabs my bag and wheels it 20 paces and expects me to tip him: I hand over 2 RMB and he feels cheated.

Anyway, I'm staying at a fairly cush youth hostel just across the street from the huge central train station. Good thing I brought earplugs! All I plan on doing is sitting around and waiting until my eyes get tired and going to sleep. Tomorrow I will probably just sign up for the package tour of Beijing sights and be done with it. $35 to keep me busy most of the day. I don't think I want to wander around by myself--though I'm perfectly adept at doing so--in order to avoid more people who want to take my money. Of course I'm a moving target in Beijing...the only white boy around.

If I get hungry there's a huge KFC right across the street...

Oh, did I mention Beijing was 100+ degrees today with super humidity? Also, and this is key, a thick layer of smog blanketed everything, leaving dust on the car hoods. And traffic is horrendous. Why did someone think it was a good idea to give one of the most populous countries on Earth enough automobiles for every man, woman, and child?

Frankly, I'm looking forward to getting up to Mongolia. It may be poorer there, but at least it has a nice cool breeze blowing off the Siberia.

You may have noticed this is a mass email. This was done just to let everyone know I made it to China in one piece with no luggage problems yet. In all other cases, please refer to my online journal:

http://fieldnotesmongolia.blogspot.com/

which will be updated about once a week or more.

Take care all, Chuck

Adventure #6.8

Why choose Mongolia?

The simple answer is sort of clich�, but it fits: Mongolia chose me.

In a way, it's true. In other ways, it's not.

I first heard about the program from a friend. At the time I was most interested in the Switzerland or Belgium programs so I could work on my French. Then I was told I had to live with a host family and no visitation from friends or family would be allowed. Then I was told that I would have to go through an oral interview in French. Then I was told about the programs in aboriginal Australia (which perked my interest in going somewhere remote). Then I was told about the new Mongolia internship at a TV station. At this time (November 2004) I was sure about two things: next summer I would be living/working outside of the country, and after college I would apply for the Peace Corps. The Peace Corps has an extensive program in Mongolia, so I thought it would be my "foot in the door" if I spent a summer there. So I queried the program coordinator about the Mongolia program, and he replied as if I'd already got the job. So from there, it was simply a matter of going through the paperwork. As I read volumes of articles and books, scrolled through hundreds of online photos, Mongolia both amazed me and repulsed me.

It was only after getting a thumbs up from my advisor on campus (reminding me that I'm young and now is the time to do crazy things like this) that I felt good about the whole thing.

Here's one more thing (and why I chose this particular program): I'll be inserted and integrated into another culture's way of life. Other programs are run more like summer camp, where you find yourself in isolated "American" fun lands in the middle of a foreign country. Contact with foreigners outside of the tourist trade is minimal. You'll be working alongside other imported crewmembers. In this internship, the only American faces I will see are those who made the epic journey to get to Mongolia (by air, by train, by tour guide, whatever) and only in a passing glance, or perhaps a half-hour conversation in the local expat caf� (called Millie's).

Why not Mongolia? The future of American foreign policy will shift towards the Pacific Rim (esp. China, N. Korea, Taiwan) in the coming decade. Why not figure out this whole Communistic-Asian-Hedgemony thing before the next war breaks loose?

Peace.

Pre-Departure Thoughts, Part 1

here i am on the eve of the eve of the eve of one mighty exploratory journey and here is how i feel:

i go from a mood of extreme excitement and anticipation to a strong bodily urge to stay where I am, don't go, and be content with my stasis. sometimes I am overwhelmed by everything that goes with traveling alone to a foreign country. I know how it feels: I did this a few years ago, landing in Venice and then exploring the Croatian coastline before 3 months in Italy. This time I'm landing in a city of 8 million (Beijing) for my "adaptation" period of 4 nights and then flying off to an even more backwards land (and I don't even remotely speak the language). This time I'm staying with a host family. This time I won't be meeting up with other Americans for wild and crazy nights, Eurotrash style. This time I'll be put to work in an environment I've never worked before (TV studio). This time I will have to use electric converters, pray I don't lose my digital camera. This time I will truly be isolated.

When my body says "No! You can't go! And leave THIS!" (pointing at my sweet, sedentary life) it remembers what it went through in the first week in Venice and Croatia (heck, even on the flight over). It remembers what it went through upon returning to the daily USA grind (a full week of pure pain and displeasure). It remembers what it felt like to be truly alone and miles away from home.

I'm hoping my body remembers what it felt like midway through my term of service: pure elation, never wanting to leave this foreign place. I hope my body remembers what it is now like, how my life (and especially my writing) has been enriched tenfold for the very act of going.

Sure, this time I actually have someone to keep me from falling apart when I return (my Abby). But that will only make leaving harder on the heart.

I'll never be ready for this experience. Or any other future experiences. So I might as well not dwell on the question of "Will I be ready on June 21st?" Of course I won't be ready. But I'm only given one go at this, so I may as well take it when it comes.

Sain bain uu

Hello!

As some of you might already know, I will be in Ulaanbaatar, Mongolia this summer at an internship with a national TV station. I am participating in a program called International Cooperative Education <www.icemenlo.com> and this is their first time sending students to Mongolia. It is an unpaid internship, so it was actually quite easy to be accepted. I fly out of Portland, Oregon on June 21st, stay in Beijing for 4 nights, then continue on to Ulaanbaatar. I fly home on September 17th. I'll be staying with a host family, and I mean it when I say "family": they have 3 sons (21, 17, 11), and 1 daughter (8). All living in a Soviet-style apartment bloc. Sweet.

I am incredibly nervous, excited, enthusiastic, and a bit melancholy. So if you'd please consider sending me emails (or better yet: letters and postcards!) during my stay, I would be SO SO SO appreciative. My mailing address is:

Chuck Adams P.O. BOX 46A / 91 Ulaanbaatar MONGOLIA

In case any of you want to call, the home phone of my host family is: T. +976 - 11- 31.20. 46

Also, instead of the usual "group" email thing I did a few years back when I was in Italy, I've set up an online journal. You can access it as little or as much of it as you like. I will try to update it at least once a week.

The URL is: http://fieldnotesmongolia.blogspot.com

However, PLEASE still send me emails of what's happening with your life, and I can still reply to those on an individual basis.

Good information about Mongolia, if you're curious, can be found at the following websites:

http://www.mongolialife.com/ (best photos of Ulaanbaatar) http://ubpost.mongolnews.mn/ (best English info on current news in Ulaabaatar) http://www.mongoliatoday.com/

Bayarlaa! (thanks)

Bayartai! (bye)

Chuck