The Only Thing Worthwhile From The Night

And from now on we can just call my camera "Pixelated Injustice"

Spare Us, Oh Lord

Wait...what?

Awkwardness Ensues

The Business of Faggy Dancing

What Tools These Mortals Be

Make It Stop

For Shame

I Just Feel...Dirty

Sick Boy

Brent just got out the hospital. David looks like he's on his way in.

Gross

The Honor Roll

See What I'm Talkin' About?

Guyanga with our Beloved Director

Now That's Classy

S-s-s-s-smokin'!

eela-zeela, eela-zeela, eela-zeela, LadyKilla!

Dearest Guyanga: I apologize for my behavior the other night. I was hammered. I hope you find it in your heart to forgive me one day. Happy New Year!

New Year/Santis 10th Anniversary

Whoo! Yeah! Party!

Mongolians throw down for New Years! Seriously! Fortunately for us whities Santis decided to throw its 10th Anniversary/New Years bash on Christmas day. This means we still get to party once more in about a week. Stay tuned.

I was asked to dress nice for once, a first since landing in Mongolia. This is something I really appreciate about my job, casual dress is totally acceptable. The women really went all out this year, which was awesome to see. I don't know how they do it but Mongol women are totally gorgeous. Is it something in the water?

The festivities started about two hours late, no surprise there. I foolishly showed up on time, which means I sat around staring at my shoes until people began to arrive. Our hosts had us at a Japanese restaurant, which was nice enough but rather skimpy on the meals. However, the drink was flowing so, no complaints there. The ceremony opened with what amounted to the best part of the night. A troupe of traditional Mongolian musicians and dancers entertained the guests with some authentic song and dance. This was followed by a most awkward address by our director. My Mongolian co-workers were all laughing and scoffing at her behind her back. I don't feel like I have much vested interest in the organization so I didn't care so much, but my co-workers were of a different mind.

Further awkwardness followed as this bizarre Mongolian version of Father Christmas strolled down the aisle and started handing out plaques expressing the company's appreciation for various staff members. They had this audio track that was undoubtedly meant to sound majestic and significant. The only problem was that it was about twenty seconds long. Father Christmas handed out awards for the next twenty-five minutes with that damnable track on repeat. After about the 30th reel it was no longer epic, after the 50th reel it was genuinely obnoxious, and by the end it just felt cheap.

Our senses were further debased by some half assed dance numbers performed by reluctant participants. Some Mongolian women came out to perform an awful version of...I don't even know what it was supposed to be. It involved little canes and sparkly top-hats and it was really bad. Afterwards the british contingent continued to assault our dignity with their Morris dancing. I don't ever want to witness this tripe again. Gawd! (shutters uncontrollably)

By this point I was pretty sauced. I wasn't even sure they were going to ask me to take the stage. Originally the main branch native English teachers and myself were going to perform this weird buddy cop play. That collapsed when one of the leads fell victim to pneumonia and had to spend the last week in the hospital. Plan B was for David and I to sing a duet but that failed to materialize as we neglected to ever practice. Suddenly, I was compelled to perform on the fly. Thats okay. I have a few tricks under my belt. I drunkly bellowed out a belligerent rendition of Ramblin' Man, causing my voice to go hoarse immediately. I was shocked when the crowd asked me to continue so I gave them some Black Water. At this point some were clearly fed up, yet others wanted more. So I forced them through an audience participation version of Bank Robber. I guess it worked.

Finally we were spared the obnoxious performances and allowed to cut some rug. The musical selection was atrocious, of course, but I was of no mind to be hindered by such a trivial matter. I made damn sure to dance with all the pretty ladies, at least some of them were good sports. Somehow the party wrapped up prior to midnight, which was fine by me. I was absolutely annihilated. Aaaannnnd...once again I was completely worthless the next two days. Are you noticing a trend yet?

Death To Your Lungs!

Out my window, you can see the results of people trying to stay warm. The pollution is horrible and everybody knows it. It's unclear what the people plan to do about it. In the meantime we all must suffer ravaged lungs from the carbon smoke. I can't imagine this lifestyle being sustainable. Only time will tell...

One solution to the enormous amount of litter on the streets of UB seems to be burning. I wish they would at least transport it away from heavily populated areas. This can't be good.

Raging garbage fires at night.

Ready For Anythang!

Dellin'!

As I walk through Hell in my ill type Del...

I was going to write a sweet rap about my experiences in smokey UB but...I never got around to it.

Check it out! I got a del! My homey Erca helped me procure the necessary materials and find a taylor. 265,000 Toogs (roughly $185) later and I'm all decked out. Notice the sheepskin lining. By far the most expensive item, I feel like I'm wearing a rug everywhere I go. Its nice though, I stay warm even in -30F conditions. No joke, it's cold up in Mongol Land right now. Much better than purchasing a boring winter coat. This way I can walk away from my experience here in Mongolia with something authentic.

People on the street offer mixed reactions. Some seem stoked that a foreigner would sport their traditional clothing. This seems appropriate as much of Mongolian culture is being swallowed by our own enormously seductive modern style. Others are amused and call me "Chinggis" (presumably because of my beard) after the infamous hero that united Mongolia and conquered so many. Still others seem dubious or even aggravated by it. Personally, I try to remain ambivalent. I like my new threads but I'm not fishing for props from my hosts. That being said I am rather stoked that it has all worked out. Check the pix y'all!

stayin' alive

Yo! It has been about a month since I posted last. For all you intrepid readers I must apologize. However, know this. You haven't missed shit.

This seems to be a trend in my life. After the revelries associated with my birfday and Halloween things tend to calm down a bit. In years passed I have sworn off drinking for a month or so simply to recover from my binjy ways. Not so this year. Regardless we have entered the doldrums.

It has now been over a month since this brilliant government has decided to take drastic measures against the great scourge that is H1N1, alias TheSwineFlu! The solution has been to impose a de facto curfew by enforcing a "night is still young" closing time of 9pm on all entertainment businesses (restaurants, pubs and clubs.) This, in conjunction with plummeting temperatures, has rendered social life to utter desolation. Yeah!

The point being, in the last month you haven't missed anything. Seriously. Nothing has happened for the last 30 days. Oh, there have been a few fun parties and a pancake breakfast here or there but nothing to write home about. So I've taken to watching movies. But I won't bore you with the details.

The only bit of news that might possibly stir up some interest is: I have taken steps towards purchasing a del, some kind of traditional Mongolian robe that people around here wear. They look sweet and if I do get one it will probably be one of only a few pieces of authentic Mongolia that I bring back. Stay tuned. I promise to have pictures. Until next time...peace!

...And It's Like That!

The Sketch

The Mask

The Result. Pretty Dead On I Think

Too Hot For A Horse Mask

Death and The Hockey Player

My Punishment For My Cultural Illiteracy

Halloween Mayhem!

It's that time of year again, kids!

I love halloween. It is by the far the best holiday. Costumes, candy and booze. Good times.

Every year I have a little problem. I can never think of costume in a timely manner so I'm either in a frenzy working at the last minute or I come as something completely uninspiring. This year a similar thing happened. Word spread around early that there would be a party so I immediately thought of the horse skulls I have collected. If I could somehow make a mask...but again I put it off for way too long. I was running out of time with no progress and it looked like my horse head mask would just be another halloween pipe dream. But then out of the blue I was saved. You see my tattoo man is a practicing artist with skills in painting and mask making. He makes masks similar to traditional buddhist ceremonial costumes, and after applying my tattoo he offered to make me a costume.

I immediately began to sketch, which felt good. I haven't done that in a long time. Later, at the party, a friend would comment that I looked markedly like the evil spirits in "Time Bandits" a freaky 80's fantasy film by the one Terry Gilliam. Perhaps I was subconsciously gravitating towards that look. I don't know. I just explained it as a demon and left it at that. I was doubtful as I showed my sketch to Enkhbat on the Wed. before the party. This guy rocks. In a manner of three days he built a strap system for the skull, sewed a badass cloak with a proper hood (why are all the hoody sweatshirts in the world so lacking in the hood department? Gahd.) and he crafted the most amazing weird appendage gloves in accordance with my design. He just sewed some bizarre plastic (maybe windshield wipers?) to gloves and then went to town on them with some silicone glue. The result were some truly frightening bony lookin' claw thangs. Outstanding.

Donning my new duds on the night of I decided to stalk the mean streets of UB alone to the party. I don't know. Something compelled me to show Mongolia a taste of our pagan past. This proved disastrous. I was stopped on my way by a Mongol youth in military fatigues. He asked me if this was my halloween (?) to which I responded with gutteral moans and grunts. I guess he didn't like that. He threw a kick which landed squarely on the snout of my mask. It jarred loose but didn't fully dislodge. In anger I yelled "WTF?!" He responded with a sucker punch to the eyeball which has left a blue spot. A flash of white light and my head snapped back. I was more shocked than hurt. At this point the skull was off my head and dangling by a string that ran down my back and hooked to my belt loop. This was intended to counter the weight of the skull and keep it from falling forward. Unfortunately this feature would cause more issues with my assailant.

He began to walk away, presumably having seen a police officer or something. I watched him go and, satisfied with the distance he put between us, turned on my way. Perhaps foolishly but certainly stubbornly (and true to my character) I replaced my damaged mask and continued onward. Suddenly I felt a sharp tug and I was laid out on my ass. Bastard returned and attacked me from behind! Fucking coward. At this point he certainly could have done me in. Considering this it is unclear to me what his intentions truly were. However I regained my feet. In my costume I was basically worthless as a fighter (wahwah, I'm in a costume). Furthermore I just wanted to make it to the party with my gear intact. I kept yelling "Why?" at my attacker as he continued to strike at me. He must not have been well trained. His kicks were slow and clumsy, easily blocked. The one kick he did land hit my stomach but he had over extended himself so it was without power. Lets be realistic. The young man walked away unscathed and I with injured pride and a new shiner. However, under different circumstances I believe the out come would have altered significantly.

Somewhere in the melee we had a conversation. The details are blurred by adrenaline and disbelief so I can't quite speak for the man but I believe his concern was the horse skull itself. He spoke of respect for military which in retrospect might make sense. The Mongols used mounted warriors to great success which is a large source of pride to the people here. Furthermore, traditionally it is taboo to mention the dead or show the trappings of dead people/things. In this light my costume was greatly offensive to his sense of national and military pride. Fair enough. My bad.

I swiped away a half assed punch causing one of my creepy appendages to caress his face. This seemed to disturb him. Miraculously, instead of renewing his assault he turned away. Whatever. I made my way again having discarded the offending skull.

Some friendly Mongolians who had witnessed the event pulled up in a car. They returned my skull and offered to taxi me to my destination. You might think I'm crazy to have entered a strange car after having been assaulted but that's how taxis work around here. They're just anybody with a car looking to make a quick Tuug. Furthermore these guys were benign, I can tell. So they carried me safely to the party and that's the end of that little bit of ultra(strike that!)violence.

The party was sweet. I made a dramatic entrance in full costume, flailing about blindly and "clawing" at the guests. Everybody loved my costume and several claimed it the best of show. The girls were sexy and willing to dance with this creep. I was stoked to see so many creative and awesome costumes. It was everything it was meant to be. One love, family!

Oooo! I Gotta Tattoo!

My first. It's the Mongolian traditional script. The only script on earth that is both vertical and has connected letters in a word. It reads "illiaisan", my hip-hop alias.

When your tattoo man makes a house call you know you're in good hands!

About an hour in. Hurt a bit but no lasting pain. This surprised me.

Mom asked me to bring home an example of the traditional script. I don't think this is what she had in mind.