corvi (![[info]](http://p-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} corivax) wrote in ![[info]](http://p-stat.livejournal.com/img/community.gif){kind=small} teamalala,@ 2007-09-18 16:45:00 |
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| Current mood: |  headachey |
Mongolia by the numbers
- 1 hill carved into the shape of Genghis Khan looming over Ulaan Baatar.
- 2 ravens living in a nest made of cow ribs and lined with leaves from nearby ancestral cannabis.
- 3 camels grazing in a field.
- 4 sheep vertebrae strung artistically on baling wire at a days-old nomad camp.
- 5 saddled horses hitched outside a bar in Sukhbataar.
- 6 yaks in the road where I want to drive.
- 7 half-finished bows of horn, sinew, birch, and fish glue at the traditional bow-making workshop.
- 8 golden stupas surrounding a giant white-glowing statue of Buddha.
- 9 types of vodka named after Genghis Khaan.
- 10 pieces of cow dung burned for warmth while camping on treeless prarie
- 11 pairs of intricately carved crutches leaning against the blue-stone ovoo (shamanic cairn) at a mountain pass.
- 12 hours spent in "hotels" whose primary amenity, er, doesn't wear clothing.
Sadly, I cannot lay count to either the number of ways one can cook sheep or the number of beers named after Genghis Khan, nor the number of sheep vertebrae in every field, road, and city, nor the nuber of blue silk fish-embroidered prayer scarves tied to statues, rocks, trees, mileposts...
I've actually been very surprised by how very... stereotypically Mongolian Mongolia is. Horses in their wooden saddles tied in the streets of towns! Shaman stones on most hills, and gleaming Tibetian stupas in the distance! People, not just "those people way over there", but "this helpful guy we've been speaking english with for two hours" living nomadic in round felt gers. Camels! And the cows just wander through town and eat your gardens, and everyone comes out of their houses to chase the cows off... it's half fairytale tibet and half wild west with saloons and rustling, and half again hunting with eagles and putting Genghis Khaan on every single bill. I don't usually expect places to live up to my silly ideas about them, and I'm not quite sure how to react to that.
The agricultural revolution has not happened here yet. Anyone can wander in with his sheep and goats and cows and camels and graze them anywhere. Nobody owns the land. It's a hard thing to contemplate, watching a jeans-wearing nomad fooling around, switching SIM cards in his cell phone, so much West, and so much of Something Else.
