This Is The Part Where I Start To Cry

The internet at our house has been cut off, my suitcase is starting to fill up and I've called a farewell dinner. Sunday morning I get up (or stay awake as the case may be), put on my boots, say goodbye to B, cry for an extended period of time then get on a very, very early flight with Samuel. It ain't gonna be pretty. Last night I looked how I currently feel: like a ghost.

But hey, you gotta jump again some time, right?

Goodbye Ulaanbaatar, hello Melbourne.

The Lost Posts...

I've got five days left in this crazy.sexy.cool country but no time for anything but lots of B's (buuz/byes/babes/brutalworkschedules). As such, I went back into the archives to examine the 'draft' posts I started but never finished in the hope there would be something I could quickly throw online to prove I am all cutting edge + quick. Alas, there were just more photos of strange things I've eaten and ramblings about snow + frozen snot. Among the whining + wining I also found something that will fit surprising well with my next online incarnation. It's a piece about a little dance called the Melbourne Shuffle, and it will be finished when I ride my bike to a cafe to type while drinking a flat white.

I expect to have a fair amount of free time for cycling + caffeine, so you will be able to find my laments about the lack of yaks at (much ado about) melbourne. I also expect I will be attempting to reconcile my relationship with the city I grew apart from via words, photos and a song+dance if you're well-behaved. See you there soon...

My Life Right Now: East Meets West Film Forum + Festival

So sometimes, in between eating strange animals and getting my nails done, I work. Who would have thought? Lately, my working life has been all about this:

Yes, the wonderful Arts Council of Mongolia is hosting the inaugural East Meets West Film Forum + Festival here in Ulaanbaatar next week. Everyone has been working solidly on this for some time now + we've got filmmakers and film-type characters from Asia, Europe, Central Asia + the USA visiting us next week.

It will be epic. And awesome. And exciting. Then I will get on a plane + leave. If you're in town (or even if you're not) please look at the site we've put together + come along/wish you were here.

Things I Will Miss About Mongolia #1

With less than two weeks to go until I set sail for (much ado about)melbourne, it's time I recap on the wonders of Mongolia I have yet to 'big up' before now. This week's Things I Will Miss About Mongolia post is a shout out to...

MONGOLIAN MYSTERY MEAT GOODS

aka Meat I Have Eaten That I Possibly Should Not Have Eaten. This post is slightly more poignant given that I (very gently) embraced vegetarianism before getting on a Mongolian Airlines flight almost a year ago. As a general rule, when I go to a place that isn't Sydney/Melbourne/Brisbane, I like to eat the food that everyone else eats. In Texas I eat deer jerky, in Dandenong I eat Dandee Donuts and in Mongolia I eat mountains of mutton. Case in point below. Yes, that is one big, old, fatty sheep.

I like to sample the local delicacies, like bull penis in hot pot.

I like to support the manufacture of processed meat goods, particularly those with delicious gelatinous hearts.

I like to eat animals that possibly have the Bubonic Plague.

And, of course, I like to eat the animals most revered by the country I am visiting, particularly in curries or garlic soups. They go faster.

My Clever Friends

So I've been 'makin videos' lately about my holiday exploits and my dad getting pissed. Sure, they might have scored a few chuckles + proved me and iMovie are making friends, but I actually know people who can really, really make videos, like for real. It is here I bow down before them + say, YOU RULE.

First up, my buddies Jess + James prove UB really is a State Of Mind with some help from Mongolian Bling's Benj. Our apartment even makes an appearance at the end of the clip. Tuesday night house parties are the best house parties.

Aaaaaand here are some videos Amelia the Legendary put together about a few issues here in Mongolia. Amelia is my hero. Please watch + learn. I did.

Flyin' In Four

In four weeks exactly, I will be boarding a plane to Australia. This is frightening / awesome / wtf. I have a number of things I need to do before then. They include:

1. Learning to play my tovshuur
2. Publicising an international film festival + forum
3. Getting a new tattoo
4. Packing a year of belongings into one suitcase
5. Plotting a course for, um, what next?

I expect many of my upcoming posts will be recaps / shout outs / pleas for help. You have been warned.

P.S. If anyone has requests for things I should do before I leave, please note them in the comments section. I will act accordingly.

P.P.S. GETTING SENTIMENTAL. These are the people I could not have survived without. More on them later. Photo in the interim. Legends.

Why My Uncle Tomi Rules

My Uncle Tomi, who resides in Melbourne, is a very smart guy. He works as a translator and lived in Russia once upon a time. He politely investigated the items in my fridge I posted earlier and shared some info with me. Thanks U. Tomi.

Dear Alicia,

I have really enjoyed your latest blog. You have a very good style; one can see the journalist schooling.

For your edification:

The bottle of pomegranate states that it is "a gigt from Azerbajdjan" and it is a "pomegranate juice" (COK = juice).

The next one with the cow on it states that it has a "delicate plum flavour".

And the cheese spread states that it is "molten pateurised cheese with smoked meat products".

Now you know what is (or was) in your fridge.

Look forward to seeing you soon and hearing all your stories.

Love,

U. Tomi

Yes, I am very concerned about the "molten pateurised cheese with smoked meat products" and no I do not know what "a gigt from Azerbajdjan" means.

Marmots, Mountains + Mosques

A couple of weeks ago I hit the western-most province of Mongolia, Bayan-Ulgii, with my buddy Katherine. The area borders both China + Russia and is very close to Kazakhstan. Its population is largely Kazakh Mongols and as such, Mongolian isn't the first language for many people out there. It is many kinds of awesome.

We spent a night with a beautiful Tuvan family near the Tavan Bogd mountain range before riding horses to scope a glacier. We watched our driver (who spoke Mongolian, Russian, Kazakh, Tuvan, Uzbek, Kyrgyz + some Chinese but no English) attempt to shoot and kill a marmot. Apparently many have the plague (yes, the mutha trucking bubonic plague best known for its appearance in ye olde medieval England) but we ate one anyway that was cooked in the traditional khorkhog manner. Mmmm. Plague flavour. Delicious.

I got to shoot a gun for the first time and we also warded off potential serial killers and a whole lot of mosquitoes with pepper spray... the gun probably would have been more effective.

It's clearly obvious I have just discovered iMovie on my computer, so here's a video extravaganza of our trip:

And a few shots of the town of Ulgii + Tavan Bogd. Many more pics on Flickr.

Folk of the Faraway Fridge

I realised tonight that our fridge is currently hosting a fantastical array of fabulous but freaky goods. I say goods because I am slightly concerned about calling some of these things 'food' or 'drink'. Here's a little look at the residents of the fridge Clare and I call 'ours':

I will now attempt to explain some of the curiouser items.

Once upon a time we had a Belgian housemate. He hosted an xmas dinner party at our place while we were out of town. This was all that remained. The "25% foie gras" label has had me running scared since it appeared on the scene. It's the longest standing item in the fridge, having clocked up an impressive nine months in there and still going strong. GO WEIRD TINNED ITEM!

So fresh + so clean. Everything I look for in a beer really. This takes second place in the battle for longevity in our fridge. It appeared one day and never left. I think we're subconsciously waiting for its owner to come and reclaim it, lest we get accused of snaffling someone's last beer. Is it yours? You clearly know where we live, so please come and rescue your lonely little friend.


Russian pomegranate juice is delicious. I don't know the word for 'pomegranate' or 'juice' in Russian but I do know the first gold Cyrillic word here says 'Sok'... which is funny.

Look at this fucking rainbow connection. Rainbows + cows = Russian butter. Did you learn nothing at farm school?

Seabuckthorn wine. No really. 16% alcohol and counting. Sweetly satisfying.


I thought this was Russian cheese spread when I bought it. Then I ate it. I am still no closer to knowing what it is.


A friend brought me back some camel cheese from the Gobi Desert. Over a month ago. The Mongolians sure know how to build things that last.


Luckily this veritable smorgasbord of Russian roulette, French faux pas and Mongolian madness isn't all we've got - somehow Clare and I have managed to keep a tomato plant alive long enough to each grow our own tasty tomato. Just like us, with only a month to go before we ship out of here, they've just about grown enough to jump off their cosy tomato branch and find a new home. *Insert collective 'aw' or 'vomit' here* depending on your predilection.

Parent Party

My parents, the wonderful Sue + Steve, recently paid me a visit here in Mongolia. They took in most of the usual hotspots - the National History Museum, Gandan Monastery and the souvenir section on the 5th floor of the State Department Store. They also embarked upon a journey with me north to Lake Khuvsgul, a huge body of fresh water up near Russia.

Oh what an adventure it was. We trucked along in a Russian jeep, narrowly avoided a hail storm while riding horses and wondered if we'd ever make it home while stranded in the middle of nowhere with no phone reception and only three tires to our name. We also drank a lot of vodka and played a lot of cards. I put together a little video of some of our (well, mostly Steve's) escapades:

There are a few more pics on Flickr, but this one is particularly awesome. It's Sue. And an eagle.



BYE SUE + STEVE. SEE YOU SOON. YOU WERE EXCELLENT VISITORS x

Beers, Bands + Babes

A week ago, I bought a glockenspiel. It looks like this:


Later that afternoon, I attempted to play the glock and a shaker on stage with a pared back version of UK band We Aeronauts at a Mongolian music festival called Playtime. It looked like this:


A few more photos here really only serve to highlight the fact that many beers were drunk + it was kinda cold. For some more insight into what went down just outta Ulaanbaatar, Mongolia, when a few thousand people + us converged on a lovely outdoor site to hear local bands and a couple of dudes intent on bringing post-rock-prog to the masses came together, please enjoy 1:29 minutes of video starring The Lemons, Cam, Stefan, Katherine, James, Greg + a bonfire conga line.

FEED ME

I just watched a Mongolian film where a woman killed a sheep then cooked it and ate it, as in gnawed every skerrick of life off massive hunks of bone. And it made me hungry, very hungry, for meat. What have I become?

Real Mongolian Art

Blogging has become a casualty of summer. Instead of hiding behind the Macbook, I've been out riding horses, drinking beer in the sunshine and watching men in minimal clothing wrestle each other. Yeah, summer is so very, very difficult here. This weekend however, I intend to up the word count and reconnect with the internet (and the kitchen for that matter. I have not cooked in months).

So, here I present the first in a number of posts set to grace your screen this weekend. Here are the four seasons of Mongolia packaged and presented in the form of nail art, as created by four different nail technicians on my street. I am currently rocking out the yellow + pink combo. It is 37 degrees + watermelon weather after all...

SPLAYED

This was my day today. How was yours?

I Gave Birth...

... to winter. Then I forgot about how hideous it was because summer is so glorious that any of the pain associated with releasing winter disappeared with the arrival of sunshine and an abundance of dandelion seeds in the air. Check the pics on my Flickr for lots of delightful dandelions and frolicking:

Super summer also means the REAL Mongolian BBQ comes into play. This sucker is called KHORKHOG, and from what I have gathered (and tasted) it involves heating up some rocks until they're red hot (literally glowing) then throwing a sheep or maybe a cow? into a metal pot with oil + vegetables, sealing that puppy + allowing it to pressure cook for a while. Evidence thus:

Francis is below demonstrating how one might lose an arm to the wonders of Khorkhog. There's no holding back: get in there and retrieve some meat or risk being stuck with bones + spring onion.

Then smash that meat like you've never smashed meat before...

Following said BBQ, you are entitled to retire to a delightful Mongolian beach + feel the sand between your toes... while avoiding broken glass and prickles. On a riverbank.

More BBQ adventures to come this weekend when it's slated to hit 36 again. BRING IT.

I Camped + Did Not Die

Yes, I camped in the Mongolian countryside, and no, I did not die from the experience. I actually had a lovely time. Even more surprising was the fact that it was hot + the waterfall we visited was blasting out the good stuff (ie water). There were 12 of us who visited this wondrous region as a bit of a farewell adventure for our buddy Bec who is heading back to AU soon.

The trip was not without drama. On the first day we busted a tyre + had to play rugby while we waited for the tyre to be changed. Rugby? OHGOD moment #1. I did get taught how to correctly throw the 'ball' though... then I stacked it on the grass and scored a million prickles in my hands and tights. Awesome.


OHGOD moment #2 occurred some hours after this when we arrived at the campsite after a detour to pick up a spare tyre in Kharkhorin. Dudes in the first car had set-up the camp site down in a gully by the river. It was nighttime when we arrived and there was a drop of many, many, many, many metres to the tents. I was tired, hungry and concerned for my well-being ergo I firmly but politely refused to rock climb to get down there. Sonja said it was the first time she had heard my scary voice. With some coercion, I schlepped my many, many, many bags down the mutha truckin cliff face. It was not fun but I did not die.


Next day I saw why we were down there. It was pretty.


We played many games of 500, burned things in a fire, ate, drank, rambled and sucked up some seriously fresh air. We also saw a whole lot more colour than we'd seen in a long time. Look! The grass is green! The sky is blue!


Day after we trekked up a pine forest mountain to visit Tuvkhun Monastery where Sonja and I were excited to see Zanabazar's rock chair. Dude had a killer view.

Interesting flora was on display in the region.


On the trip, some of the team also rode camels, burned down a house, ran naked up the cliff face (clearly money was involved), gave dating advice and barked non-stop for four days (yeah, we had canine companions too). I avoided sharing a car with the OHGOD moment #3 canine companion that was on heat, but I did get sandwiched between Sam + Pete for the majority of the car journey. Enlightening is one way to describe it. But yes, I will go camping again this summer. I'll just avoid steep inclines, bleeding dogs and tents that don't have doors.

Throne Me

I'm going on a four-day camping trip tomorrow. I'm really not very good at the whole 'being outside with only a bit of canvas for a roof' affair. I am, however, hoping to catch a fish, climb a mountain and find an animal throne. Wish me luck.

Blooming

I'm still not sure this is really happening. Did I take the red pill + fall into a marmot hole? Is jesus's dad screwing with me because I don't take his son's birthday seriously anymore? Are the beetroots I've been living on for the past week actually magic? I ask all of these questions because the temperature has been in the 20s the past few days and:

Today I saw flowers in the Mongolian countryside for the first time.


Clearly a career in botany beckons.


Today, I smelt + felt rain in Mongolia for the first time. The ground looked like this before that happened though.


Today I rode a horse bareback for the first time. Its spindly winter battered frame supported my winter fattened body, and I felt like the most evil giant in the world... until I scored a saddle and galloped for the first time.


Yesterday, I drank beer outside in Mongolia for the first time. Andrew + Julian did too and were clearly very excited to be involved.

I think I like this floral, beetroot fuelled, springtime equine wonderland.

I scanned.

We conquered.

Acting My Age

Last week I turned old. I know this because I attempted to play basketball yesterday and I could hardly walk afterwards. I am faring a little better today but my body is still terribly confused about what it went through yesterday. It's also possible this is the result of five months of virtual hibernation where the closest I got to moving my limbs was walking to the shops to buy a cabbage and a bag of biscuits each night. Battered body aside, I am not one for major birthday celebrations, but luckily, some amazing people were on hand this year to ensure that I had a lovely day without too much trauma.

My wonderful work colleagues bought me a beautiful dress, I had dinner with some super special friends, I got a crazy cat lady mug + some stunning plastic cherry blossoms, I crammed into a car with seven people and I did three hours of karaoke. Good friends of UB (and special guests from Berlin), I salute you + thank you for a wonderful birthday. Many arigatos also to everyone who called, texted or engaged in online communication to send wishes. It made growing up far more palatable.










P.S. I'm still finding sand in all my belongings so have been too busy using the washing machine to write about Gobi Trip #2. No need though really - the photos tell the best parts of the story (except for when we taught kids in Sainshand the Nutbush. That was kinda cool.)