Work is taking me all over North Asia now and this time I needed a visa instead of an Alien's travel permit. First stop was a gold mine an hour and a half north of Ulaan Baatar where I had a couple of days working with some local guys. Mongol is one language that is going to take a while to even look like getting a hold of. One minute they sound like they're clearing their throat, next they're dragging saliva in to form another word, then there is a clicking sound. Out of the six days in the country the only word I could say with confidence was 'bayarlaa' for thankyou. I got the same stupid smiles and giggles I still get in China when I stuff the pronunciation up, so I'm used to it.
After Boroo Gold mine it was a two and a half hour drive through rolling green hills that look like the Windows screensaver, only with gers and sheep and goats and horses and cattle and yaks and trucks and dogs and kids and (you getting the picture ?).... We got to a town built thirty years ago by the Soviets and everything has a russian / mongolian mix to it. This is back in country that spends half of the year under snow or ice and the top four metres freezes for six months. Thankfully my first trip was in summer, straight after good rain so the whole place looked a treat AND was warm. One guy I was working with asked if I could speak French. He's a russian who can't speak conversational mongol so he was trying to find a language we could both use. That's why we have translators. I was just surprised that I understood what he asked me.
So Baasan from our mob in Mongolia and I head into town to find where we're meant to be staying. This is the thirty year old soviet style town so it was looking like staying in hostels was going to be a bit of luxury compared to here. We found the hotel on the third floor of a six floor apartment block behind some old buildings that housed shops, bars, banks and who knows what. The room was small, the bed as hard as nails and the desk clerk made Basil Faulty look like Ghandhi. So imagine my surprise when I flick on the telly on a wednesday night in the north of Mongolia and I find the State Of Origin on the Australian network chanell.
I was stoked !!!
I love this town ..... and what a win ? The Mongols were watching it with us in the end and couldn't get over how hard a game it is to play. Some of these guys over here would do well playing though. Most of them are big barrelled, short legged guys with with big black moustaches. Come to think of it, they could be a nation of Bojacks. Hi ya Mick.
Anyway the work was over and four hours or so drive back to UB that night after firing a blast we put together and all went well. Up here at this time of year it is daylight by 4:30 AM and not dark until 9:30 PM.
The only thing was they had just had an election over there and a fair few people weren't too happy with the outcome. The crowd got way out of control and stoned then burnt the government offices, killing five people. In a country like that this means security, and plenty of it. Every corner had a cop or security guard watching any and everything. These aren't guys who'd cross in a hurry either. There was a curfew on and no alcohol, so the only thing for it was the next flight to the 'freedom' of Beijing.
Back to work and packing up for a move to the Weihai in Shandong province to the east of Beijing and on the coast. That means the kites - and wetsuits - will be back out.
Stoked again !!!
