Coming of age:
This year Lunar New Year fell on
5
th February, because it is a lunar calendar date it changes every
year bit like Easter. To make things even more complicated Mongolians follow the
Tibetan rather than the Chinese calculating system, as a result, every 5 years
Mongols celebrate the New Year a month later than their Chinese counterpart a
bit like a leap year (2020 is the next time this will happen the Chinese will
celebrate at the end of January while Mongolians and Tibetan the end of
February). Officially the New Year lasts for three days, unofficially it normally
carries on for the whole week and in some cases even longer. The New Year Celebration
is all about visiting family and paying your respects to your parents and other
elders, since nowadays not everyone lives in the same city, and not even the same
country, so the length of time between greetings can vary. It was 21 years since I last
greeted everyone back home and as for Mark it was the first time to greet my
relatives at
Tsagaan
Sar (the Mongolian name for the Lunar New Year it means
White moon). Don’t get me wrong during
the last 21 years we have visited Mongolia and most of my relatives several
times but normally in the summer or autumn.
China doesn’t own Moon:
Most Asian countries such as
Korean, Japanese, Vietnam, Cambodia, Laos etc celebrate the Lunar New Year. But
in England, it is often referred to as “the Chinese New Year”. Whenever we try to
reason with this description, we are not always successful. One particular year
one of the TV channels even announce that the Chinese don’t own Moon so it is
wrong to call it the Chinese New Year but it has been called that here for so
long may be too late to change it. But one thing we can all agree on is the lunar
calendar is based on 12 animal characters (although some countries use slightly
different animals Vietnam, for example, have Bison instead of Ox and Cat
instead of Rabbit).
This year is Year
of Pig (or Boar). It also indicates the beginning of spring (however in our
case it didn’t feel like it) as well as everybody’s birthday; Let me explain that
a bit more, according to Mongol tradition, a child is one year old when they
are born (this is called the Nominal age), and then a year is added to their
age at Tsagaan Sar so, for example, a child who is born before February 5th which was New Year day in 2019 would
be one, then on February 5th New Year’s day (2019) he or she would be 2.
Birthday celebration are a pretty modern concept for traditional Mongols as they
only celebrate when a person reaches the grand age 60,70, 80 and 90. But
young people now celebrate their Birthday every year like in the West. Because
my mum was born in Year of Pig, we made an extra effort to be there. As with all
celebration and families get together there is a lot of food and drink
involved, during a 4-day period we visited several families around Ulaanbaatar
(or UB for short), we greeted about 80+ adult and about 50 children, said
Amar baina uu? (which is a very
respectful way of saying “How are you”?) 130+ times respectfully. The greeting
is straight forward enough the younger person reaches out his or her arms palms
up, the older then places his or her arms palms down on top of them so that the
younger person is supporting the older person's elbows and then you lean forward
and sniff on both cheeks, some people may kiss you on the cheeks while others
will just brush against each other’s cheeks there is no right or wrong. While
you doing that you exchange well-wishing words also you may offer some cash as a token gift. Mark and I have done this in Manchester among our community
gathering for the last 20 years so it was nothing new. But once we were in Mongolia,
we were a bit like school kids going to the gym class for the first time, all of
sudden there were too many things to do and worry about. A mad panic where did
we put our blue scarves, make sure Mark had put his hat on, I kept saying to
Mark don’t forget to carry your snuff bottle with you, straighten your clothes and
fix your belt. Because Mongolians take ethics seriously, we were determined to get
it right, this was important especially for Mark and although they would
forgive him if he got it wrong, I don’t want him to be a laughing stock or copycat
with no idea of what was happening just because he’s not Mongolian.
Cold enough to freeze the balls off
a brass monkey:
There is an ancient tradition to
climb to the top of a mountain or hill to see first rays of the rising sun the morning of the first Lunar New Year day (called
Shiniin Negen in Mongolian) and whisper your wishes for the next
year. At 6am on New Year’s Day my brother-in-law, sister and eldest niece
Enkhtuya arrived to drive us to a hilltop it was about an hour and a half away
from UB to greet the New Year and to perform certain rituals, sunrise was
about 8:00 that morning the outside temperature was -38
° Celsius ice-cold air rubbed against my cheek as if were sandpaper. It was so cold you could feel it starting to burn so I wrapped my scarf
around my face so only my eye were exposed as a result of my hot breath raise up and the tip of my eyelashes develop icy particle. Mark complained that the inside of his nose had
frozen. It was so cold that Marks camera was having difficulty working so he
had to use his phone to take a few pictures which meant he had to remove his
gloves his hands soon started to turn blue and the battery on his phone was
dying fast. Although I had snow boots on, I could feel my feet starting to go numb.
My sister decided to start a fire, she bought some wood from a man nearby and
my brother-in-law got a canister of gas but when he came to light it, it
wouldn’t work so he passed the can to a guy sitting nearby who put it on top of
his fire Mark and I made a hasty retreat behind the car, although I’m sure he
knows what he was doing we didn’t want to be too near just in-case it blow up. When
it comes to our holiday it is more like special forces operation, a bit like a tough
marriage rather than a fleeting love affair. You may want to say that hang on, don’t be such Drama Queen, you’re only going to Mongolia for
a holiday, not a bloody polar expedition and beside you come from there. However,
the sad truth is that my two-decade gap puts me in no better position any
stranger. To deal with the cold is one thing and at least we had the right type of clothing which meant we could start to walk short distances. But to cope with
heat and warmth is a different matter, I mean the central heating once you have
walked into someone’s apartment or even inside a shop. As soon as we entered, we
removed our hat and scarves and if we were staying more than a few minutes we also removed
our coat. But if you look around at
the locals, they don’t do that no matter
how thick their layers it doesn’t seem to bother them much that shows me that people
here not only tolerate the cold they deal with the heat the same way. For us, it
was extreme contrast even inside some apartment you would still quite warm even
in your swimsuit. For us being inside a bit like a baptism of fire. If I haven’t made myself clear, I gave you an example how about when your guests arrive for
Christmas dinner and you insisted they mustn’t remove their coats while having a
three-course meal and drink while you have your heating on full blast and watch
their face. Only Santa Clause can drink and eat without removing his hat and coat, but
he only has a snack so probably we would never know how he would cope with a 3-course
meal. Both our lips started to chap and although we carried some lip cream when
us outside it was so cold that it froze and I had to get inside wait a bit until
it got soft enough then we could apply it. Our skin was also taking its toll and
at the end of every day we have to apply a tick amount of cream, this became our bedtime routine.
In the TV show Dr Who (starring Christopher Eccleston as the 9
th Doctor) there was a character called Lady Cassandra the last human who was just a piece of stretched skin and who kept demanding “Moisturise Me”. And so, this became our mantra every night.
Chilin’ out in coldest capital:
Most of our time was dedicated to
visiting relatives so we only had two days to do our shopping.
We did find time to call in the UB jazz
club for a bit of R & R one night. Of course, we didn’t need a good excuse
to have a good time, after all, we were on holiday and we deserve it. As we
walked in and sat down, I couldn’t help noticing that the other "clubers" average age was between 20 or 30s at the most, making us feel out of place.
I often listen to BBC 2 Radio and I remember that a couple of DJs declaring that their clubbing days or nights to be more precise were over. Maybe we are the only ones to start clubbing at such a late stage in our lives. When we
order a drink, we insist on having a shandy (a mix of beer and lemonade) in order to
curb our alcoholic intake, as at every place we called at they would give you far
too many shots of vodka and in Mongolia you have to drink in 3’s (so it would be 3, 6 or
9 shots if you’re not careful, you need to keep your wits about you). So, we ordered a bottle of German beer and a
can of sprite, in the past, we have asked for lemonade but no-one seemed to understand
and the nearest thing we fond seems to be sprite. I also asked the waiter to bring
two tall glasses he seems a bit confused judging by the look on his face, so he
went off and when he came back, he had one tall glass and one short glass. I
asked him to bring another tall glass, obviously, no one had ever asked for
something like this before and once again he had a confused look on his face. Once
we got the tall glasses, we half filled them with beer then added the sprite for a
very refreshing drink. Very soon a small group of people a similar age to us
arrived and sat at the next table, but they turned out noisy and irritating shouting
out first in Russian then in English, after a few minutes we moved away to sit well
away from them. Whenever they shouted the younger ones in the club threw a glance
at them, they were clearly not impressed, I surprised as I thought it would
have been the other way around. The club manager finally came onto the stage
and introduced the group they were called
“Pause”
the lead singer was a lady called Ouynaa with a good powerful voice she sang in
English and Mongolian with a mixture of jazz and blues. There was only one song
we didn’t recognise which she sang in Latin otherwise the others were all
familiar (Mark even knew the Mongolian songs). It was a great evening and well
worth going to, we will be going again next time we are in UB.
The Big smog:
When people from Manchester used
to go to London, they used to refer to it as The Big Smoke due to the air
pollution, sadly it still like that when you go to UB in winter. Thankfully as
we knew about this, so we took our own filter masks with us to help us deal
with the problem. The reason it is so bad is that just over half of the population
of UB live in the ger district (although it is still called the ger district
there are many houses there now) which goes right around the city and as a
result they have to burn wood, coal and even tyres to keep warm in the winter
months so there is a ring of pollution round UB if the sky is clear then the
pollution dissipates quite quickly but on cloudy days it can hang over the city
for hours. While we were there, we visited a couple of elders who live in the Ger
district, surprisingly this was the first time Mark had been to there. Mark
described it is a bit of a rabbit warren with too many passages, we think that
only those people who live there know way around but outsider like us stood no
chance, we spent almost an hour trying to get to one of the houses we could see
it but every path we took was blocked. Finally, we found the right passage and
got to our destination. It seems there is no proper control and everyone who
want to put up a fence dose wherever it blocks a right of way or not. So
emergency service like fire, ambulance and police would find difficulty to
locate the exact address. There is a numbering system in place (a bit like
postcodes) which is meant to help but it doesn’t unless you know the
route.
As regards to the pollution the Government
are try to introduce smoke-free fuel and
there are new stoves which are meant
to be more efficient but not everyone had them or can afford to swap to one. The
British Embassy tried to help the situation and have brought special mask which
were developed at Cambridge University and in order to increase public awareness
they showed them off at one of the big
Fashion show in UB, but once again not everyone could afford them and there are
many young and old people who have breathing related illness, sadly there is no
quick cure, just like in England it is going to take legislation and control
and time to deal with it.
Coffee for one:
On one occasion I was busy with
my mum and sister so Mark said he was going for a coffee at a
Tom N Tom’s coffee shop 2 doors down
the road,
I asked Mark if he wanted
me to go with him to order his drink for him in-case they didn’t have someone
who spoke English as we weren’t in the main part of UB, but he said no he could
manage to order himself as he had been listening to me when I had ordered over
the last few days and was determined to order in Mongolian himself, so off he went.
The next part is Mark description of what went on once he went into the shop:
Mark: Sain Baina yy?
Mongolian Barista: Good morning
sir. (in perfect English)
Mark: Neg tom caffé latté, neg extra shot.
Mongolian Barista: (smiling) Yes sir, so that’s one large caffé
latté with an extra shot, anything else?
Mark: Ügüi, ene
khed ve?
Mongolian Barista: that will be 7500 tughrik (that’s about £2.20 in English money.)
[sorry can’t remember the exact price, I think this
was about right]
Mark: bayarlalaa.
Mongolian Barista: Thank you sir.
After he had drunk the coffee, Mark took his cup back to the counter:
Mark: Mash ikh bayarlalaa, bayartai.
Mongolian Barista: Thank you sir, goodbye…
I not sure who was more pleased
with himself, Mark for his “little bit of Mongolian” or the Mongolian Barista for
his English…
Sumo stomach:
At
Tsagaan Sar there are so many different dishes of food on the table,
in many ways, it’s the Mongolian equivalent of a Christmas dinner however instead
of roasted turkey and veg there is a whole sheep back, a multi-layered “shortbread cake” the number will vary between 3-9 depending on the host's age. There is
always diary such as curd, cheese as well as rice with sultana in it and
several types of salads. Let me describe one of the salads, I say salad but to
any rational person, it is a full-blown meal in itself. One particular salad
called a Russian salad, the ingredient includes; potatoes, carrot, gherkin,
peas, onion, boiled eggs and sausage (more like a hot dog or salami type
sausage than the English one) all diced and mixed with mayonnaise. Hospitality
is everything in Mongolia and there is a good chance that when you get offered
such vast amount of food and drink it means that the host and maybe their families
have gone without but that’s just how things are in Mongolia and as for them understanding
the concept of ‘that’s enough’ well that is quite beyond them. This is not just
a regular mothering instinct to feed you up, it is an excuse to drink, tell
tales, sing songs (if you’re brave enough) to reminisce and feel comfortable
and to smother you with food until you can barely walk, and only then are they satisfied
that they’ve done their job as a good host. Before long they are Killing you with
Love you have to find the way to escape. But there is a fine line so not to
offend your host and as long as you touch foods and drink with your mouth you
don’t need to empty every bowl placed in front of you in-fact the more you eat
the more they give you so unless you want to end up with a sumo-sized stomach
you have to go easy. Our survival trick is trying not to sit at the table too long
the best excuse for us is to entertain the kids so we try to organise games and
challenges for them which also makes them happy, also we walk around taking
everyone’s pictures and ask them to show us around their home. Even though we used all our cunning we still ended up putting weight on, so once we got back home it was time to take it easy with our food and drinking well at least until next
Tsagaan Sar.
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