Dead Man's Boot

I’ve taken on creating my own recycling program. Strewn on the ground on my walks I find useful things. I made a loom and a rag rug from the wood and fabric I have found. A pair of leather uppers from old horse riding boots of one of the boys made a couple of really cool boxes and some other useful items like thimbles. I enjoyed working with that leather and have been looking for more. I have found many shoes and boots, but the leather is always ruined from the elements. So when I just found one, filled with dirt but otherwise with supple leather and able to be cleaned up, I was pleased.

Apparently it is one thing (a little strange but acceptable) to use the leather when the owner of the boots is known. It is quite another to use (or even disturb) a boot when the owner is not known. It caused quite a stir when I came walking into camp with that boot. One of the teenage boys let out a yell, all the family members came out of the ger, the mom was laughing but yelling at me to throw it away. I wasn’t sure if they were serious, because they were all laughing and shaking their heads, but then the educated wealthy uncle that is staying here saw it and got really angry. He said, “This is a bad thing you are doing! Very bad! This is a dead man’s boot! In Mongolia, this is NOT DONE! This is SHIT!” He speaks pretty good English when he is ticked and has a mind to express it. I asked Enhee, “this is a dead man’s boot?” She basically said, she didn’t know, but it could be. She told me again to throw it away, so I walked it across the river to a trash heap. Not sure if I should offer to take it back to where I found it. She thought it was pretty funny that the uncle was so mad about it. I said I was sorry, I didn’t know. I’ve been here a month, and that is the first real cultural offense I have caused.

Wait, I take that back. I had one other smaller issue with the uncle. He came into my ger and saw that I had a weathered sheep bone on my meditation altar with my Buddha and other stones and natural treasures. He asked why it was there, but before I could explain, he launched into a reprimand that it was “very disrespectful.” If I had a new bone, or a piece of meat, that would be okay, but “seeing an old bone with the Buddha would be very upsetting to a visiting lama.” I tried to explain that the bone to me was a powerful symbol of our impermanence and also how beautifully we are made and unmade in the cycle of life. I told him I follow more of a Zen Buddhist path, rather than Tibetan. I put the bone elsewhere, but hope to have it on my altar again once I leave Mongolia. I think he felt a little bad about scolding me, and brought me a gift of a new bone he had cleaned the flesh from for my altar. I tried to be appreciative, though I feel the way about the new bone as he does about the old.

Every culture has its sense of what is clean, what is dirty. What is blessed and what is cursed. Here they use the same kitchen implement for meat, dairy, cutting dirty rope…usually without washing it or at the most rubbing it on a dirty cloth between uses. This is standard practice and not seen as unclean. They’ll milk the cows, come in with a handful of dung for fuel, and start eating without washing their hands. This is also not seen as unclean. So I am pretty sure my snafu with the boot was related to something other than cleanliness. I called my new and very helpful friend Kelly in UB to have her clarify, and I offered to take the boot back where I found it, in case there is some superstition about having that boot nearby. Enhee explained that “Mongolians just don’t like old things,” and now that it is in the trash, it is okay.

It has also given them something new to tease me about. One of the relatives walked by today with a child’s boot at her side, then waved it at me laughing. I said, “Odoo, bi midden” which means “Now I know.” So much fuss over an old boot! I’m sorry not to have the leather, but at least I was able to “recycle” it into a story.