Wanted to share a video of Bayara's kids, Michael and Michelle. We have been getting to know each other as I have been relaxing and resting up here at their house in UB. Michael (age 8) taught me the camel knuckle game, and has been sharing his bunk bed with me. Michelle has been kind enough to include me in her affections in the beautiful open way of 5 year olds (welcoming me when I come in with enthusiasm and big hugs).
Still not feeling my best. Started another round of antibiotics today. Hope this round will rid me of the giardia I have been fighting since India.
Tuesday, June 15, 2010
Sunday, June 13, 2010
Ulaanbaatar, part 2
Mongolians are a strong people with an enduring sense of national pride and identity. My visit to the National Museum left me with so many questions about their recent journey to democracy. I saw a really good exhibit detailing their chronological history for the past 100 years. The country has struggled as an only child standing between the demanding, domineering parents of China and Russia. Varied influences from both countries have led to deep conflicts in ideology, such as communism vs. religion. Mongolia gained her independence from China after WW2 with Russian support, only to be managed by them via a Mongolian puppet government. In 1991, there was a successful movement to become a democracy. The past 20 years has been a struggle with building a stronger infrastructure, navigating the waters of international economic development, all while dealing with issues of internal corruption that many developing nations have.
Another challenge is how to stop or at least slow the tide of people moving to UB. As is the case in most countries, urbanization is calling people out of the rural areas to look for work in the city. Here, it means a growing edge of ger slums surrounding the city, where there are no utilities and resources are scarce. In the winter, the smoke from the wood-fueled stoves in the gers makes the air in UB almost unbreathable.
The current President, Tsakhiagiin Elbegdorj, is working to address these issues head on. Another of Anu's friends, Kelly, took me around the city and spoke of her hope and optimism that the current president will make progress in these areas. She thought he is the first leader that has a chance to really make a difference.
Though things are expensive, you can get anything you want or need here. Almost everything is imported, with most food and produce coming from China. Mongolians are very positive about America, and there are many restaurants and supermarkets dedicated to offering American fare. Almost everyone has a cell phone, and internet cafe's are available all around downtown. Many expats live and work here, which gives the city a real international flair.
I am waiting for the care package I prepared before I left that Anu shipped to me to arrive. It was delayed at some point along the route due to a strike. I hope to get it by Wednesday. Waiting for the package has kept me in UB a few days longer than I would have stayed otherwise, but I am glad for the time to rest and check it out in a leisurely way. It has given me some breathing room I needed.
Another challenge is how to stop or at least slow the tide of people moving to UB. As is the case in most countries, urbanization is calling people out of the rural areas to look for work in the city. Here, it means a growing edge of ger slums surrounding the city, where there are no utilities and resources are scarce. In the winter, the smoke from the wood-fueled stoves in the gers makes the air in UB almost unbreathable.
The current President, Tsakhiagiin Elbegdorj, is working to address these issues head on. Another of Anu's friends, Kelly, took me around the city and spoke of her hope and optimism that the current president will make progress in these areas. She thought he is the first leader that has a chance to really make a difference.
Though things are expensive, you can get anything you want or need here. Almost everything is imported, with most food and produce coming from China. Mongolians are very positive about America, and there are many restaurants and supermarkets dedicated to offering American fare. Almost everyone has a cell phone, and internet cafe's are available all around downtown. Many expats live and work here, which gives the city a real international flair.
I am waiting for the care package I prepared before I left that Anu shipped to me to arrive. It was delayed at some point along the route due to a strike. I hope to get it by Wednesday. Waiting for the package has kept me in UB a few days longer than I would have stayed otherwise, but I am glad for the time to rest and check it out in a leisurely way. It has given me some breathing room I needed.
Ulaanbaatar, capital of Mongolia, part1
Ulaanbaatar, or "UB" as it is usually called, is a large sprawling urban center. The heart of the country, it houses government, business, and half of Mongolia's population of 2.5 million. I am staying with a friend of Anu's (my friend and contact in Denver) not far from downtown in a nice apartment building. Bayara lives in a 2 bedroom flat with her 2 children and live-in babysitter. The family has been generous with me. I share the bottom bunk of a bunk bed with Bayara's son. I have had a couple days out seeing the city, and several days to rest and hang out with Bayara's kids.
Her son taught me to play one of the games played with real animal ankle bones. The bones come from sheep or goats and are about 1.5 inches x 1 inch x 1/2 inch and each side is unique. This makes them into a kind of dice with which many games are played. I learned to play a game that is like a combination of dice and marbles. You start with 20 (more if you have more players) and throw them down. You have to flick (like marbles) one into another with the same side up. If you hit it without hitting anything else, you take one, and can try again. The goal is to get all the bones from the other player. There are other rules that keep it engaging. In any Mongolian film where they show life inside the ger, there are always boys playing this game. Glad I will go out already knowing the basics, since it is one of the main forms of entertainment.
One evening Bayara came home with a special treat from her mom. Her parents had just killed a sheep and shared a bowl of boiled entrails with her. This is the first thing that is cooked, and it is savored by friends, family, and neighbors. I eyed the bowl with some hesitation. It smelled like lamb, but the snaking entrails and organs had a greyish tint from the boiling. After initially taking a pass, I asked to try the most mild piece. She gave me a piece of heart. The meat was firm and tasty. I said I would try one more. She gave me a chunk of congealed blood. I didn't let myself think about it before popping it in my mouth. This one had a texture of soft-set Jello, with a strong gamey taste. I found it a little disconcerting. That ended my exploration for the evening, but I am determined to try more delicacies during my time here. The usual diet for urban Mongolians has a lot of meat and potatoes, some rice, and some noodles. Lucky for me Bayara also likes vegetables so we have had salads with most meals. In the countryside they mostly will eat dairy, meat, cabbage, potatoes and some rice and flour noodles. I am bringing some dried fruit and vitamin supplements to help round out my diet.
Anu's friends have welcomed me here and helped show me around, housed me and fed me. I am grateful for this experience which is so different than my guesthouse living of the past few months. It is nice to be part of a home and feel the daily rhythms of stability. I will head out on Thursday for Kharkhorin, and then get to meet my family for the summer.
Her son taught me to play one of the games played with real animal ankle bones. The bones come from sheep or goats and are about 1.5 inches x 1 inch x 1/2 inch and each side is unique. This makes them into a kind of dice with which many games are played. I learned to play a game that is like a combination of dice and marbles. You start with 20 (more if you have more players) and throw them down. You have to flick (like marbles) one into another with the same side up. If you hit it without hitting anything else, you take one, and can try again. The goal is to get all the bones from the other player. There are other rules that keep it engaging. In any Mongolian film where they show life inside the ger, there are always boys playing this game. Glad I will go out already knowing the basics, since it is one of the main forms of entertainment.
One evening Bayara came home with a special treat from her mom. Her parents had just killed a sheep and shared a bowl of boiled entrails with her. This is the first thing that is cooked, and it is savored by friends, family, and neighbors. I eyed the bowl with some hesitation. It smelled like lamb, but the snaking entrails and organs had a greyish tint from the boiling. After initially taking a pass, I asked to try the most mild piece. She gave me a piece of heart. The meat was firm and tasty. I said I would try one more. She gave me a chunk of congealed blood. I didn't let myself think about it before popping it in my mouth. This one had a texture of soft-set Jello, with a strong gamey taste. I found it a little disconcerting. That ended my exploration for the evening, but I am determined to try more delicacies during my time here. The usual diet for urban Mongolians has a lot of meat and potatoes, some rice, and some noodles. Lucky for me Bayara also likes vegetables so we have had salads with most meals. In the countryside they mostly will eat dairy, meat, cabbage, potatoes and some rice and flour noodles. I am bringing some dried fruit and vitamin supplements to help round out my diet.
Anu's friends have welcomed me here and helped show me around, housed me and fed me. I am grateful for this experience which is so different than my guesthouse living of the past few months. It is nice to be part of a home and feel the daily rhythms of stability. I will head out on Thursday for Kharkhorin, and then get to meet my family for the summer.
Saturday, June 12, 2010
Human rights concerns in China
The story of the “haves” and the “have-nots” is an old story with humankind. It is common (though not fair) to have a dominate culture that controls more of the resources, and minority cultures that see less of them. My time with the Tibetan refugees (exiles in India) and the Uyger people (in Urumqi and Turpan in Western China) has made me think a lot about what it is that China is doing that is different than our own systems of inequality, classism and oppression in the USA. Of course I kept these thoughts to myself while I was in China, writing (true but harmless) tourist blogs. I wanted time to process what I saw, and time to clear the border as all incoming and outgoing information is monitored. All email is run through filters that look for key words that notify officials of any controversial content. For these reasons I was careful. Everything here I learned directly from people who have or who are experiencing this. I asked questions and tried to get information without getting on any soap boxes, or putting the people I talked to in awkward situations. I worked to understand the Han perspective, while also learning from other voices. I haven’t written like this before, but hope to raise awareness with my sharing.
In McLeod Ganj, India, I spoke with many Tibetans in exile and saw films shared by activist groups. What did I find? The clamp down on the Tibetans that increased after their protests just before the 2008 Olympics has not let up. People are imprisoned and tortured for slight infractions or unfounded accusations. Family members of those that escape into exile are under threat. Tibetans that return after fleeing are beat and imprisoned and fined. One filmmaker that taped what Tibetans thought about the Olympics being in China was arrested and is still in prison. Though it came through with the message that the world should hear the Tibetan people’s cry for support, and know that human rights violations continue there, the film’s criticism was moderate. The Chinese response was not. I also saw a film that showed clips during the protests where several non-violent Buddhist protesters were beaten to death. The soldiers standing nearby laughed and smoked as the Tibetans were kicked and beaten by their comrades not 10 feet away.
I heard the stories of some of the nuns that had fled after they had been imprisoned for practicing non-Party approved religious studies. The numbers of people allowed to enter or stay in the monastic life is tightly regulated to keep the numbers low, and the Chinese government created a benign course of study for them to use in the monasteries. Those caught using traditional content rich with their heritage and culture, are punished (some with their lives). The nuns I spoke with had served an average of 3 years each, and were routinely beaten for their “crimes.” They had made the decision to flee to India to a free nunnery where they could practice their faith and be close to the Dalai Lama, even though this puts their families behind at risk of harassment. All of their families supported this decision.
The Dalai Lama is asking for freedom of religion, and freedom for his people to maintain their culture and language. He is not asking for independence from China. There is a feeling the Chinese are just trying to ignore his requests until he dies, and no matter what he says, the Chinese Government is convinced he demands an independent Tibet. They are hoping time will erase the problem. But there is growing unrest among the young that are demanding nothing less than independence. The situation is tenuous.
The Uyger people in Western China have more freedom to practice Islam than the Tibetans have to practice Buddhism, but the oppression of the people is evident. The calls to prayer ring out over the city during the day, and mosques all over the city are well attended. The strategy there seems to be more of a systematic approach. The Han Chinese run the education system. The children are not allowed to speak the Uyger language at school, and must speak Chinese (or English in their English classes). There is a strict prohibition against prayer at school. Separate schools, clubs, or classes about the Uyger language and culture are forbidden. There are observers at the mosques during prayer, (it is thought they do this to prevent any organizing). In Kashgar, military presence is more overt. Police are throughout the city in full riot gear even though it has been a year since the small uprising there. A German tourist shared that the feeling in the city is one of intimidation and tangible police threat.
Everywhere there is massive construction happening. Old parts of cities (literally every city I passed through) are being knocked down to make way for new shiny high rise apartments. The people living in those old areas are forcibly moved to new housing, even if their families have lived there for many generations. The last three remaining historic neighborhoods of the ancient city of Kashgar are slated to be replaced this year. Any objections have been muted. The scale of this effort is astounding. “Modernize! Modernize!” sounds the cry.
The Chinese I talked to are proud of all the progress and construction efforts. They don’t have information about any “down-sides” and only get the positives done up on their national TV stations with swelling patriotic music and high production values. The Chinese government are masters at controlling information and generating propaganda. The message that comes through is: See all the benefits a modern and prosperous China can bring to these backward, misled people. China offers the children of these quaint and simple people such generous opportunities with education and better economic standing…a chance to be part of something truly great…a member of the biggest and best country on earth. Why, when given the choice of continuing their silly ways with their old superstitions, or gaining wealth and the respect of the Chinese, would they chose the former? It seemed most Chinese simply don’t know (or don’t care to know) what is happening behind the scenes to bring these people into the folds of the red flag.
So for me, there are a few things China is doing that take them into the arena of deliberate, dangerous, unforgivable human rights violations, above and beyond the more common systems of oppression that develop when a dominate culture is present. One is their suppression and outright prosecution of the religious, spiritual, and cultural lives of the Tibetans and Uygers (and other minority groups with smaller populations). Another is the way they are controlling their information so their own people cannot know about and fight the injustice happening there. And the third is (something the US has also done) which is to effectively gut the cultures of the minority groups, but continue to use their ethnic costumes and images of a few aspects of their culture to “prove” how inclusive the dominate culture is. It makes my heart hurt.
I hope to take action by seeing what is being done by international human rights groups, especially related to the Uygers, as they have no one as well known and respected as the Dalai Lama to speak for them. If anyone finds any direct ways to support action to help these groups, please post them on the comments here.
In McLeod Ganj, India, I spoke with many Tibetans in exile and saw films shared by activist groups. What did I find? The clamp down on the Tibetans that increased after their protests just before the 2008 Olympics has not let up. People are imprisoned and tortured for slight infractions or unfounded accusations. Family members of those that escape into exile are under threat. Tibetans that return after fleeing are beat and imprisoned and fined. One filmmaker that taped what Tibetans thought about the Olympics being in China was arrested and is still in prison. Though it came through with the message that the world should hear the Tibetan people’s cry for support, and know that human rights violations continue there, the film’s criticism was moderate. The Chinese response was not. I also saw a film that showed clips during the protests where several non-violent Buddhist protesters were beaten to death. The soldiers standing nearby laughed and smoked as the Tibetans were kicked and beaten by their comrades not 10 feet away.
I heard the stories of some of the nuns that had fled after they had been imprisoned for practicing non-Party approved religious studies. The numbers of people allowed to enter or stay in the monastic life is tightly regulated to keep the numbers low, and the Chinese government created a benign course of study for them to use in the monasteries. Those caught using traditional content rich with their heritage and culture, are punished (some with their lives). The nuns I spoke with had served an average of 3 years each, and were routinely beaten for their “crimes.” They had made the decision to flee to India to a free nunnery where they could practice their faith and be close to the Dalai Lama, even though this puts their families behind at risk of harassment. All of their families supported this decision.
The Dalai Lama is asking for freedom of religion, and freedom for his people to maintain their culture and language. He is not asking for independence from China. There is a feeling the Chinese are just trying to ignore his requests until he dies, and no matter what he says, the Chinese Government is convinced he demands an independent Tibet. They are hoping time will erase the problem. But there is growing unrest among the young that are demanding nothing less than independence. The situation is tenuous.
The Uyger people in Western China have more freedom to practice Islam than the Tibetans have to practice Buddhism, but the oppression of the people is evident. The calls to prayer ring out over the city during the day, and mosques all over the city are well attended. The strategy there seems to be more of a systematic approach. The Han Chinese run the education system. The children are not allowed to speak the Uyger language at school, and must speak Chinese (or English in their English classes). There is a strict prohibition against prayer at school. Separate schools, clubs, or classes about the Uyger language and culture are forbidden. There are observers at the mosques during prayer, (it is thought they do this to prevent any organizing). In Kashgar, military presence is more overt. Police are throughout the city in full riot gear even though it has been a year since the small uprising there. A German tourist shared that the feeling in the city is one of intimidation and tangible police threat.
Everywhere there is massive construction happening. Old parts of cities (literally every city I passed through) are being knocked down to make way for new shiny high rise apartments. The people living in those old areas are forcibly moved to new housing, even if their families have lived there for many generations. The last three remaining historic neighborhoods of the ancient city of Kashgar are slated to be replaced this year. Any objections have been muted. The scale of this effort is astounding. “Modernize! Modernize!” sounds the cry.
The Chinese I talked to are proud of all the progress and construction efforts. They don’t have information about any “down-sides” and only get the positives done up on their national TV stations with swelling patriotic music and high production values. The Chinese government are masters at controlling information and generating propaganda. The message that comes through is: See all the benefits a modern and prosperous China can bring to these backward, misled people. China offers the children of these quaint and simple people such generous opportunities with education and better economic standing…a chance to be part of something truly great…a member of the biggest and best country on earth. Why, when given the choice of continuing their silly ways with their old superstitions, or gaining wealth and the respect of the Chinese, would they chose the former? It seemed most Chinese simply don’t know (or don’t care to know) what is happening behind the scenes to bring these people into the folds of the red flag.
So for me, there are a few things China is doing that take them into the arena of deliberate, dangerous, unforgivable human rights violations, above and beyond the more common systems of oppression that develop when a dominate culture is present. One is their suppression and outright prosecution of the religious, spiritual, and cultural lives of the Tibetans and Uygers (and other minority groups with smaller populations). Another is the way they are controlling their information so their own people cannot know about and fight the injustice happening there. And the third is (something the US has also done) which is to effectively gut the cultures of the minority groups, but continue to use their ethnic costumes and images of a few aspects of their culture to “prove” how inclusive the dominate culture is. It makes my heart hurt.
I hope to take action by seeing what is being done by international human rights groups, especially related to the Uygers, as they have no one as well known and respected as the Dalai Lama to speak for them. If anyone finds any direct ways to support action to help these groups, please post them on the comments here.
Thursday, June 10, 2010
Mongolia at last!
I am writing from Ulaanbaatar (and able to post directly myself now that I am in a democratic country again). The night before I got on the train I couldn't sleep because I was so excited for this next chapter to begin. The train ride was a lot of fun. My cabin compartment just had one other person, a new Indian diplomat arriving for a 2-3 year post at the Indian Embassy. He was travelling with his family's possessions, with his wife and child following a bit later. Interesting to get some insight into the life of an official like that. He has lived interesting places, and after taking this "less desirable" post means he won't have to do another more remote placement in the future.
The route took us through incredibly beautiful landscapes which made me which I could hop on and off the train. This one mountainous section with mist and lakes was especially lovely. The tunnels and open spaces were about even, and every time we popped out of a tunnel, there were varied wonderful scenes to see for about 1 minute before being swallowed by the next tunnel. It went like this: Blackness, clickety clickety clack clickety clack. Light! Steep green lush mountains dipping their feet in clear blue water, water lilies, a man fishes from the bank, mists hang in the trees. Clickety clack, flickering lights. Big flat bottomed valley with huge athletic training field in mint condition. No one around to use the track, soccer field, gymnastic area, soccer field. Secret training area for the Olympics? Clickety clack. Building anticipation with my nose to the window. What will appear next? A small village with mud brink houses and pagoda rooflines huddles next to the perfect stillness of a lake reflecting mountains. A fish jumps making a ripple... That section went for about an hour like that. Better than a good documentary. I was riveted.
In the night we went crossed the border and they had to switch all the cars to different wheels as the tracks are a smaller gauge than the tracks in China. They make the people get off, then lift the cars one by one (with their wheels attached) to another wheel unit that has smaller wheels. Took about 3 hours.
I woke in the morning and everything had changed. We were crossing the eastern edge of the Gobi desert. Scrubby plants, blowing sand that was seeping in the windows and making the hallways hazy, like we were entering a dream flashback in an old movie. I saw my first herds of livestock, some lone herdsmen. I started watching for my first ger (yurt) sighting. In the first town we stopped in, there were gers around the edge of town, with fences and yards. This is common to all Mongolian towns and cities (even UB).
About 2 hours later, we moved into greener and greener landscape, and the land started to pitch and roll as if it were a green sea with a gentle swell coming in off a far away stormy sea. I don't know why, but this landscape has called to me for a long time. In films, it created this crazy sense of longing approaching homesickness. Seeing it in person made my heart rejoice and ache from the beauty of it. I couldn't leave the window.
And then, my heart leapt at the sight of a small group of gers far from everything else, surrounded by a few groups of grazing animals. A thin trail of smoke rising from the chimneys, dogs and people working with the grazers. It looked much like what I think my home for the summer will be. Where does this desire come from to live and learn about this nomadic herding life? Why the feeling I'm coming home? Why does this landscape play a song deep in my gut? Why, when I saw a yurt in a book for the first time, did I think: "Now, that is what a house is supposed to look like!" There are not answers for these questions, but I do know I am glad to be here. Grateful to my friend Anu in Denver for helping me make the connections and offering support so I can be here. Next entry I will talk about Ulaanbaatar, the capital of the country and home to a third of the population here.
The route took us through incredibly beautiful landscapes which made me which I could hop on and off the train. This one mountainous section with mist and lakes was especially lovely. The tunnels and open spaces were about even, and every time we popped out of a tunnel, there were varied wonderful scenes to see for about 1 minute before being swallowed by the next tunnel. It went like this: Blackness, clickety clickety clack clickety clack.
In the night we went crossed the border and they had to switch all the cars to different wheels as the tracks are a smaller gauge than the tracks in China. They make the people get off, then lift the cars one by one (with their wheels attached) to another wheel unit that has smaller wheels. Took about 3 hours.
I woke in the morning and everything had changed. We were crossing the eastern edge of the Gobi desert. Scrubby plants, blowing sand that was seeping in the windows and making the hallways hazy, like we were entering a dream flashback in an old movie. I saw my first herds of livestock, some lone herdsmen. I started watching for my first ger (yurt) sighting. In the first town we stopped in, there were gers around the edge of town, with fences and yards. This is common to all Mongolian towns and cities (even UB).
About 2 hours later, we moved into greener and greener landscape, and the land started to pitch and roll as if it were a green sea with a gentle swell coming in off a far away stormy sea. I don't know why, but this landscape has called to me for a long time. In films, it created this crazy sense of longing approaching homesickness. Seeing it in person made my heart rejoice and ache from the beauty of it. I couldn't leave the window.
And then, my heart leapt at the sight of a small group of gers far from everything else, surrounded by a few groups of grazing animals. A thin trail of smoke rising from the chimneys, dogs and people working with the grazers. It looked much like what I think my home for the summer will be. Where does this desire come from to live and learn about this nomadic herding life? Why the feeling I'm coming home? Why does this landscape play a song deep in my gut? Why, when I saw a yurt in a book for the first time, did I think: "Now, that is what a house is supposed to look like!" There are not answers for these questions, but I do know I am glad to be here. Grateful to my friend Anu in Denver for helping me make the connections and offering support so I can be here. Next entry I will talk about Ulaanbaatar, the capital of the country and home to a third of the population here.
Monday, June 7, 2010
Rain's Big Adventures, Part Two Begins
In my mind I have always thought of this trip in 2 sections. The adventures before Mongolia, and Mongolia. It feels like it was forever ago that I left, and sort of this vague spacy feeling when I see all the pictures of what I've done. Ironic that being with the nomads will mean I settle down for the first time in over 2 months. I have not had more than 5 days in one place since I left. In some ways I anticipated, and in others I didn't, the first part of the trip has been honing and shaping me so I am in a better place for the second part. I knew it would help me not be attached, not accumulate stuff. That has been true. I move with more confidence through situations that are confusing or chaotic. I found a better balance here in China with the staring. I'm getting a better feel for how to stay pleasant but have a firm boundary. I'm used to being in situations where I don't share the language, where either I'm silent or figure out a creative way to get what I need.
Also this trip has been much more solitary than I would have expected, with my paths taking me off the well-trodden trails, which means less fellow travelers. Living out with the nomads will be the most isolated I have been since my time in Tenakee (in Alaska when I did my experiment in solitude and lived in a cabin alone for 2 months at the age of 22), even though I will be with people. When I lived with the family in Thailand for a month, at least I had classes during the day with English speakers. This will be really Out There, but I think it is the only way for me to adapt. Total immersion. I want to see how fully I can adapt, learn the language, gain practical skills (I'll be able to milk anything with teats like a pro), and embody a new way of being. How completely I can become an "us" rather than a "them" with humans so different than me. Making meaningful connections. Fun to think I'll have enough language at the end to get around and explore more on my own.
After saying how isolated I will be, I found out I will be able to have a cell phone even out where I am. Probably expensive to use but nice to have if I feel crazy. Like when I would kayak from my cabin into Tenakee every 2 weeks or so and babble to whomever I could get on the phone in a big rush, all the words from 2 weeks pouring out. Part of totally adapting to a new environment is shedding some of the current reality, which feels like shedding a part of yourself, and can be disconcerting. If I call to babble just remind me that I am doing the right thing, that it is worth it, and I will be glad I've done this (I always am), and that the only way out is through. I'm glad that between my Tenakee experiment and the immersion in Thailand, I know what I am in for. I also expect to be able to have more joy and peace within the experience than in those times, because I have learned a lot since then that will come in handy.
Update on my health: I'm pretty sure I still have giardia, but got rid of the parasite I got that was causing the severe diarrhea. Overall I'm down 20 pounds, my energy is pretty good, system is very sensitive. I'll see a doctor in Ulaanbaatar before I head out to the remote area to stock up on any meds I might want to have on hand and make sure there's not something I'm overlooking with my gut hitchhikers. My diabetes control most of this trip has been much better than it ever is at home (because I pay more attention to it, and know I can't get lazy.)
Thanks for reading!
Also this trip has been much more solitary than I would have expected, with my paths taking me off the well-trodden trails, which means less fellow travelers. Living out with the nomads will be the most isolated I have been since my time in Tenakee (in Alaska when I did my experiment in solitude and lived in a cabin alone for 2 months at the age of 22), even though I will be with people. When I lived with the family in Thailand for a month, at least I had classes during the day with English speakers. This will be really Out There, but I think it is the only way for me to adapt. Total immersion. I want to see how fully I can adapt, learn the language, gain practical skills (I'll be able to milk anything with teats like a pro), and embody a new way of being. How completely I can become an "us" rather than a "them" with humans so different than me. Making meaningful connections. Fun to think I'll have enough language at the end to get around and explore more on my own.
After saying how isolated I will be, I found out I will be able to have a cell phone even out where I am. Probably expensive to use but nice to have if I feel crazy. Like when I would kayak from my cabin into Tenakee every 2 weeks or so and babble to whomever I could get on the phone in a big rush, all the words from 2 weeks pouring out. Part of totally adapting to a new environment is shedding some of the current reality, which feels like shedding a part of yourself, and can be disconcerting. If I call to babble just remind me that I am doing the right thing, that it is worth it, and I will be glad I've done this (I always am), and that the only way out is through. I'm glad that between my Tenakee experiment and the immersion in Thailand, I know what I am in for. I also expect to be able to have more joy and peace within the experience than in those times, because I have learned a lot since then that will come in handy.
Update on my health: I'm pretty sure I still have giardia, but got rid of the parasite I got that was causing the severe diarrhea. Overall I'm down 20 pounds, my energy is pretty good, system is very sensitive. I'll see a doctor in Ulaanbaatar before I head out to the remote area to stock up on any meds I might want to have on hand and make sure there's not something I'm overlooking with my gut hitchhikers. My diabetes control most of this trip has been much better than it ever is at home (because I pay more attention to it, and know I can't get lazy.)
Thanks for reading!
Friday, June 4, 2010
The Delicious Search for Dinner in Turpan
After a day of exploring ruins and covering a hundred miles of expansive desert landscapes, you come back tired and hungry. I drank some water, took a nap, and was ready to seek out a good dinner at the bazaar in the city of Turpan.
Lonely Planet advised to look beyond the obvious food stalls among the other merchants and so I went deeper. Down curving bustling alleyways, past fruit sellers, clothes, fabrics, household wares, pots and pans, hand tools. Through several areas of food sellers, looking for one that had the hand made noodles in a soup, and that had many customers (always a good sign in any town!) The smoke of kabobs on the barbecue drifted by thick enough to water my eyes. The smell of lamb on the grill made my tongue lick my lips.
I finally saw a stall with seating that was almost full of customers. The cart had 4 sizes of handmade noodles and a large pot of lamb broth. Each bowl was prepared for the customer, first with the noodle they wanted, then broth, then fresh spring onion and cilantro sprinkled on top. The broth had a hint of tomato, hearty meat flavor with a pleasant kick of spice at the end.
I sat with the other folks, all Uyger. The Uygers are the people I came to learn about. Their language and culture is heavily related to the Turks, and as a people they are 98% Muslim. Their faces can look Chinese, European, and Turkish. Some have clear blue or green eyes. The men wear woven square hats, and most women wear head scarfs. My dinner companions eyed me warily as we all slurped the tasty meal.
After eating, I got a slice of watermelon and walked through a Uyger neighborhood. I was adopted by a little girl, about 8 years old, bringing a stack of flat bread home to her family from the market. She hummed, danced, and talked happily to me in Uyger as we walked. Most houses had families sitting outside enjoying the cool evening air. Both men and women smiled at me, though expressions of surprise, glee, curiosity and mirth were clear on their open, friendly faces. When they laughed, it was good-natured and laced with amazement. Much kinder than the other countries I have been to so far. Not many Westerners make it to this part of China, and even less leave the finely manicured streets of the main drag. When we passed her house, the little girl waved enthusiastically and ran to tell her waiting kin about me. They peeked out and smiled.
This region is famous for its grapes, raisins, and melons. Sorry I won't be here in July to try the honey and musk melons! I had my driver take me to see the grapes and the little rooms they dry them in. I walked past a farmer and his wife working. I smiled at them. The woman looked incredulous as she yelled something to her husband. The driver chuckled so I asked what she had said. She told him, "You better not be looking at that Russian girl!" And he replied something like, "Wife, I'm not looking!" Most of the white people in this area are Russians here on business. Many of the signs are written in Chinese, Uyger (like Arabic) and Russian. Rarely any English.
I have gone to many of the "tourist" places, and they are alright. But I like talking or at least interacting with people better. The miracle of making a connection across a seemingly endless gap. Without language, religion or culture in common, connection can be made if both parties are open to it. The Uyger way is much more amenable to this kind of connection than the Chinese. They seem to carry their rich culture and faith in their bones with them. There is an ease and a quiet confidence in them that I think many Chinese have difficulty finding in their own culture. I'm so glad I came to see this part of the world where the Silk Road shared both directions, where Arabia and China collided and created an amazing mix of things that don't happen anywhere else on the planet.
Lonely Planet advised to look beyond the obvious food stalls among the other merchants and so I went deeper. Down curving bustling alleyways, past fruit sellers, clothes, fabrics, household wares, pots and pans, hand tools. Through several areas of food sellers, looking for one that had the hand made noodles in a soup, and that had many customers (always a good sign in any town!) The smoke of kabobs on the barbecue drifted by thick enough to water my eyes. The smell of lamb on the grill made my tongue lick my lips.
I finally saw a stall with seating that was almost full of customers. The cart had 4 sizes of handmade noodles and a large pot of lamb broth. Each bowl was prepared for the customer, first with the noodle they wanted, then broth, then fresh spring onion and cilantro sprinkled on top. The broth had a hint of tomato, hearty meat flavor with a pleasant kick of spice at the end.
I sat with the other folks, all Uyger. The Uygers are the people I came to learn about. Their language and culture is heavily related to the Turks, and as a people they are 98% Muslim. Their faces can look Chinese, European, and Turkish. Some have clear blue or green eyes. The men wear woven square hats, and most women wear head scarfs. My dinner companions eyed me warily as we all slurped the tasty meal.
After eating, I got a slice of watermelon and walked through a Uyger neighborhood. I was adopted by a little girl, about 8 years old, bringing a stack of flat bread home to her family from the market. She hummed, danced, and talked happily to me in Uyger as we walked. Most houses had families sitting outside enjoying the cool evening air. Both men and women smiled at me, though expressions of surprise, glee, curiosity and mirth were clear on their open, friendly faces. When they laughed, it was good-natured and laced with amazement. Much kinder than the other countries I have been to so far. Not many Westerners make it to this part of China, and even less leave the finely manicured streets of the main drag. When we passed her house, the little girl waved enthusiastically and ran to tell her waiting kin about me. They peeked out and smiled.
This region is famous for its grapes, raisins, and melons. Sorry I won't be here in July to try the honey and musk melons! I had my driver take me to see the grapes and the little rooms they dry them in. I walked past a farmer and his wife working. I smiled at them. The woman looked incredulous as she yelled something to her husband. The driver chuckled so I asked what she had said. She told him, "You better not be looking at that Russian girl!" And he replied something like, "Wife, I'm not looking!" Most of the white people in this area are Russians here on business. Many of the signs are written in Chinese, Uyger (like Arabic) and Russian. Rarely any English.
I have gone to many of the "tourist" places, and they are alright. But I like talking or at least interacting with people better. The miracle of making a connection across a seemingly endless gap. Without language, religion or culture in common, connection can be made if both parties are open to it. The Uyger way is much more amenable to this kind of connection than the Chinese. They seem to carry their rich culture and faith in their bones with them. There is an ease and a quiet confidence in them that I think many Chinese have difficulty finding in their own culture. I'm so glad I came to see this part of the world where the Silk Road shared both directions, where Arabia and China collided and created an amazing mix of things that don't happen anywhere else on the planet.
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