Roads on the Far Side of the World

Sometimes it is easy to forget I’m on the far side of the world.  When I spend time in the school, which is a two story renovated house, with my fellow students and the staff, speaking English and laughing at our paltry attempts to speak Mongolian, it seems like a normal pattern.  We play ping-pong and talk about life at home, getting to know each other.

But sometimes, it is impossible to forget I am on the far side of the world.  The streets distinguish themselves from any I’ve seen in the world, and so far, they have shaped what parts of Ulaanbaatar and Mongolia I have experienced.  For instance, the air here is (for now) warm and dry, filled with dust and exhaust kicked up by the vehicles battling the congestion.  When I walk on the sidewalk, my throat becomes dry, and I spend the walk thinking about the water in my backpack, which is locked to discourage pickpockets.   The sounds of the street fill every building, including my hotel room.  Honking from cars, whistling from police who try to manage the traffic, engines shifting, brakes squeaking.  It is quite engaging, although I can’t say it lulls me to sleep at night.

The roads themselves look like they have been abandoned halfway through a construction project- some potholes are halfway filled with gravel and the sides of the road are torn up, as if someone is about to put down some piping.  But I haven’t seen a single construction worker on the streets. Perhaps they are all been hit by the cars jockeying through the streets, and are unable to continue their work.

People here drive like I have never seen before.  The amount of traffic is similar to that of Indonesia, but there are no motorcycles, only cars, and the bravest and biggest vehicle has the right-of-way.  There are lines on the road, but no one seems to pay attention to them, and there are as many lanes of traffic that need to be.  Today, I saw an uncontrolled intersection with two or three lanes coming from each direction, and there were a lot of cars trying to turn left.  The way they turn left if simply to start turning in front of the oncoming car which either darts around or screeches to a stop with a loud honk, sometimes inches away.  Needless to say, I am thankful not to be driving here.

Walking has its own hazard.  Of course, there is always a threat of being hit by a car, but so far we have walked in a large enough group that vehicles are forced to stop for us.  It’s also a matter of being aware and looking both ways several times.  There is a system.  I haven’t mastered it yet, but with my Bali experience, I’m not too worried.  My favorite trick is to shadow a local person, standing down-traffic of them, and just walking whenever they do.  There are plenty of ways to be safe; its really just a matter of being stupid, because the streets and sidewalks will get the stupid people.

As if traffic weren’t enough, the sidewalks are filled holes, shattered glass, overturned bricks, uncovered manholes, metal sticking up out of the dirt, and spit.  They sound a little dangerous, but Mongolian women rock the sidewalks in one to three inch heels.  They are fearless.  So I watch them, put on my purpose walk, staying vigilant, and think to myself, Here I am, walking down the street in Mongolia.

The Great Khan

Move over Alexander and Napoleon, Genghis Khan is taking his rightful place in history’s consciousness, or at least mine.  Genghis Khan was a badass, to use the technical term.  He rose from an outcast family to unite Mongolia, and then with innovative strategies that took few mercies and a powerful cavalry he built an empire that stretched from the Mediterranean Sea to the Pacific Ocean in 1260.  Whether measured by the number of people defeated, countries annexed, or area occupied, Genghis Khan conquered more than twice as much as any man in history, and at its height, the contiguous Mongol Empire was about the size of the African continent. 

And the great Khan could not only fight, he could govern.  He created a system of government based on merit and achievement, created history’s largest free-trade zone along the Silk Road, established the world’s first international postal system, guaranteed religious freedom, lowered taxes (abolishing them entirely for doctors, teachers, and priests), conducted a regular census, abolished torture, and instituted diplomatic immunity for ambassadors and envoys.  Quality of life for conquered nations could improve while cultures were still able to retain their traditional way of life, and this flexibility and success made helped strongly establish Genghis Khan’s empire; so much so that after Genghis died, the Mongol Empire continued growing for another 150 years.  This is rather remarkable because while Genghis spent his life developing an empire, he was not one for family values, raising a family of alcoholics to take his place who would almost all struggle as leaders. 

Genghis Khan succeeded in conquering and connecting.  He built systems that allowed culture, business, and government to thrive because of a foundation based on merit and achievement.  These systems were international in scope and thought.  Always proactive and strategic, the Mongols captured craftsmen, educators, translators, anyone who had an ability that would enable them to improve some aspect of their empire.  In that quest, they spread ideas and technology throughout the world as they learned and incorporated other society’s skills, strategy, and thought into their own empire.  They were the ultimate delegators and connectors, led by one of history’s greatest leaders.

If you are interested to learn more about the great Khan, I recommend Genghis Khan and the Making of the Modern World by Jack Weatherford, who shores the history textbooks shortcomings to give a well-rounded, informational, and engaging account of Mongolia and the great man responsible for its success.  I am currently reading Modern Mongolia by Morris Rossabi, so hopefully you can look forward to a summary of Mongolia’s more recent history.

The Countdown Begins

I am currently sitting on my back porch in the middle of Idaho with my poodle, listening to the birds chirp and basically watching the grass grow.  I spent the day gardening, and after spending the day playing in the dirt with flowers, I am tired.  I assume that life will be a little different this fall after a quick hop and a skip to the middle of Mongolia, the last wild place on earth (or so I am told).  Besides dramatic landscapes and a vegetable free diet dominated by dairy and meat products, Mongolia is also known for its up-and-coming country status (NPR even had a series on it this spring).  Last year, it had the world’s fastest growing economy, a product of huge amounts of coal and copper, among other natural resources.  Mongolia is rapidly changing socially, politically, and economically as people in the traditionally nomadic culture move to the city, the government continues to adjust from communism to democracy, and as the economy responds to development and expansion. 

This rapidly changing environment is what really sealed the study-abroad deal for me when I was deciding on a country to study in.  I didn’t feel particularly driven to become fluent in Spanish, the language I’ve been studying for just about forever, so I nixed South America, and I feel that Europe will more or less be the same in 20 years (if all goes at least marginally well in the Eurozone Crisis).  I’m pretty sure that in 20 years Mongolia will be an entirely different place than the country I will be exploring this fall. I want to see the last wild place on earth, live in a yurt, and talk to people about communism and coal.  Who knows what the mining industry, urbanization, and democracy will do in the next two decades. So I’m going to see it all now.

I am studying abroad with a program called SIT, and I will be learning all about Geopolitics and Natural Resources, which I hope will pair my majors, International Studies and Geography, nicely.  The program is based in the capital, Ulaanbaatar, where I will live in an urban homestay, and students also spend at least three weeks living in a rural homestay which will definitely be in the middle of nowhere.  I will also be expected to complete an Independent Study Project which I hope to focus on tourism and impact.  To set the record straight, I speak absolutely no Mongolian, and the host families speak little (read: no) English.  So as I sit on the couch and play in the flowers, I am getting ready for an adventure!

And in order to be fully prepared for an adventure in a country sandwiched between Russia and China, it is imperative to pack appropriately.  My packing list is a little daunting (definitely different from my friends studying abroad in Chile, Australia, or Spain).  The most important thing on my list is a sleeping bag that is appropriate for -15 to -20 degrees Fahrenheit; additionally I also need a down jacket, a heavy jacket, a heavy sweater, wool socks, wool hat, and “trekking boots.”  So that is step one.  I also have a book list to read which will help me get some handle on Mongolia’s history and culture.  I’m not even going to try to learn the language before I go, and instead I will rely on the universal language of smiling and good humor when I arrive while praying for a quick learning curve.  I also need to get a visa (that should probably be step one).

Because I expect this to be a crazy, probably fly-by-the-seat-of-my-pants kind of adventure, I’m not super worried about anything.  Assuming I get my visa, I’ll show up and hope for the best.  I’m not expecting my fall to be easy by any stretch of the imagination, but I am planning on surviving.  I also hope to ride a horse through the Mongolian steppe.  The whole experience seems like a long ways away (and it is—as the crow flies Ulaanbaatar is about 5,500 miles away from my back porch and that is cutting through the Arctic Circle as a shortcut), and I have no idea what to expect.  So I am trying not to expect anything except adventure.  I am crossing an ocean and half a continent to learn something, and I am confident that no matter what I do, as long as I meet the SIT coordinator on August 27^th at the only coffee shop in the Ulaanbaatar airport, I will succeed.