Showing posts with label rural Mongolia. Show all posts
Showing posts with label rural Mongolia. Show all posts

Sunday, August 30, 2015

Mongolian Word of the Week #65: Тарвага

How much wood can a wood chuck chuck? Mongolians ask a different question


Since marmot-hunting season is underway, today's Mongolian word of the week is тарвага (tarvaga) "marmot." If you know what a groundhog or woodchuck is, you're familiar with marmots - all of them belong to the genus Marmota. In fact, In Mongolian, the groundhog or woodchuck (Marmota monax) is called хойд америкийн ойн тарвага "North American forest marmot." Two species of marmots have long been ubiquitous residents of the Mongolian steppe. One is Marmota baibacina, the gray (Altai) marmot. The other, more common one, is Marmota sibirica, also known as the Siberian, Mongolian or tarbagan marmot. (Obviously, the designation "tarbagan marmot" is from the Mongolian word for marmot.) Keep reading for more about marmot hunting, the plague, and Mongolia's equivalent of English's famous tongue-twister about a woodchuck.

Sunday, May 31, 2015

Children's Day / Хүүхдийн Баяр

Children's Day makes a fitting end to the school year

June 1 is recognized worldwide as "International Day for Protection of Children" and consequently is the most popular day in many countries for celebrating children. In Mongolia it is called "Children's Day," or Хүүхдийн баяр (Hüühdiin bayar). As you may recall, баяр refers to a celebration or holiday. Officially, the day is known as Эх үрсийн баяр (Eh ürsiin bayar), which means "Mother and Children's Celebration" in rather formal Mongolian.

The biggest party, of course, is in Ulaanbaatar. Thousands of parents and children from around the country gather for a ceremony in Sühbaatar Square, and other activities. However, smaller parties happen in сум's and аймаг's. Naturally, they are usually hosted at schools.

The Mongolian school year conveniently runs from September through May, so Children's Day makes a fitting unofficial end for the school year. In honor of Children's Day 2015, please enjoy some pictures from Children's Day 2014.



Children line up by the school to watch the ceremony





A little Mongolian boy checks his trading cards


Children's Day parties at schools provide a chance for students to show off their talents. Unlike most student competitions, which are dominated by high school students, on Children's Day the participants are mostly kindergarten or elementary school children.



Girls get ready to dance

Typical displays of skill include dancing and singing performances. Talented young artists get their drawings displayed on school walls. One year when I visited UB on that day, even the State Department Store (Mongolia's biggest mall) displayed children's drawings in the store window.

Singing is popular at many holidays, including Children's Day

On Children's Day, small children can sing too.




Opportunities for play include games like darts and шагай, and drawing on the ground with chalk.

Playing with sheep anklebones
Playing with sheep anklebones
Older children playing darts
Children drawing with chalk
Of course, winners get certificates.
At the end, everyone gets their picture taken.

Say Hi.
More photos
Take some photos from the other direction
Adults also find time to celebrate themselves too. Here teachers pose for a photo op in front of the school.

Monday, May 4, 2015

Ögii Lake

As I mentioned before, Khöshöö Tsaidam was only half of my trip. After that, we visited Ögii Lake (Өгий нуур / Ögii Nuur, also spelled Ogii or Ugii). Ögii Nuur is not only a lake, but also the name of the sum (district) which surrounds it. It lies north of Khashaat sum, and along the same road that connects Kharhorin and Khöshöö Tsaidam. Sometimes people from my town went fishing up here, although according to them, the fish aren't as big as the ones in Tariat.

Овоо тойрон явах - Circumambulating the ovoo
On the way we stopped at an ovoo by the lake. Ovoos often mark boundaries, and if you pass one it is customary to attend to them before continuing with your journey. Usually, this requires walking around it clockwise three times and putting three stones on it.

When we got to the lake, it was melting, but the majority of the surface was covered still covered in ice, sometimes all the way to the shore.


It was often thin ice though. I didn't walk carefully enough, and one of my feet plunged through it. I came in my rubber boots, but the water flooded right in and I had to take it off and dry it off. Luckily, Ögii is very shallow, and I would have had to walk further out to get to a place deep enough to drown.

My feet, before they got wet.

The area was largely bare. The village area was farther away, and spring was still waking up. There were some living things around, but sometimes in surprising places. I found a ladybug out on the ice, but when I picked it up, it shook itself off and flew away. I found two live ladybugs just chilling, literally, on the lake.

One of two live ladybugs I found on the lake
Other hardy life forms included weeds, moss, and of course, lots and lots of lichens, which were colored brightly and covered most of one of the promontories.

Lichens
We didn't see the far side of the lake, but it was beautiful enough where we were, and a fine conclusion to the trip.

Ögii Lake

Ögii Lake

Ögii Lake

The other side of Ögii Lake

A small cliff

Sitting on the shore

Another ovoo

Friday, April 17, 2015

Khöshöö Tsaidam / Хөшөө Цайдам

Khashaat's Ruins Evoke Ancient Memories


Exterior of the museum, with Japanese visitors
Khöshöö Tsaidam (Mongolian, Хөшөө Цайдам) - the nearly 1300-yea-old remains of a steppe empire - is the most famous place in Khashaat sum. However, it's far from the village part of Khashaat, hence it requires a special trip. I never ran into it just going about my business. I paid it a visit it last year on April 11, and although I'm a little late (April 17) now, in this blog's current spirit of "This Day in [the] History [of My Time in Mongolia]," let's look at Khöshöö Tsaidam, one of the archaeological treasures of Mongolia.

Poster in my school. It reads, "The Turkic-era memorial complex at Khöshöö Tsaidam, and several artifacts."
Khöshöö Tsaidam is also admired outside Khashaat: This poster is from a series of posters of famous Mongolian places that covered the walls of a classroom in Tsetserleg.

Bilge Khan and the Göktürk Empire


Modern Turkish is the best known of the Turkic languages, but it was spread to the land now called Turkey by invasion from Central Asia. There are many other Turkic languages spoken Central and Northern Asia, and in fact, the Turks may have originated in Western Mongolia near the Altai Mountains. While China was ruled by the Tang Dynasty, most of the lands to its north were part of the Second Turkic Khaganate. This vast nomadic conglomerate was led by the Göktürks or "Blue Turks" (Mongolian: Хөх Түрэг / Höh Türeg), and in the 8th century the Blue Turks were led by Bilge Khagan (Билэг хаан, 683? - 734 A.D.), with the help of his brother and military commander, Kultegin (Көлтэгин / Культегин / Күлтэгин, died 731).

In addition to accomplishing many things politically and militarily, Bilge Khan liked to boast about his accomplishments. To this end, he erected two stele in the valley of the Orkhon river. The stele describe his and his brother's achievements in a bilingual inscription in Orkhon runes and Chinese characters. Those runes (together with a few other inscriptions from the same time) are the oldest writing in any Turkic language.

Билгэ хааны тахилын онгон - "Bilge Khan's sacrificial idol"
How Bilge Khan's monument would have looked in the 8th century

The Turkic Empire soon crumbled, and its monuments were also left to crumble for hundreds of years. The site of these ruins became known in the Mongolian language as Хөшөө Цайдам (variously transliterated as Khöshöö Tsaidam, Khushuu Tsaidam, or Koshu Tsaidam). In the 19th century they were found by Russian explorers, and translated by the Danish linguist Vilhelm Thomsen. Along with other remains of ancient kingdoms scattered along the Orkhon river, Khöshöö Tsaidam was inscribed in UNESCO's world heritage list in 2004 as part of the "Orkhon Valley Cultural Landscape" (Орхон хөндийн соёлын дурсгал) [1]. The museum was established in 2011 - just weeks after I arrived in Mongolia (although I didn't know it yet!) [2]

Headless stone men?

Bilge Khan's crown

The Museum


April 11, 2014 fell during the Mongolian secondary school's spring break, and I was at site, with nothing to do. When my JICA friends from Kharhorin told me they were going to visit Khöshöö Tsaidam and Ögii Lake and asked if I wanted to come, off I went.

When I was invited to Mongolia by Peace Corps and read about archaeological finds in Mongolia, I orignally imagined some broad lonely field with decayed stone brushed by the wind. I wondered whether I should bring tracing paper to make my own rubbings, as past archaeologists have done. I soon realized I had a fat chance of actually touching them - the ruins are in a museum now, of course.

Хар бэхээр зурсан зураг бүхий дээврийн ваар - black ink-drawing on a roof tile

The museum features many small artifacts from that time period, but the centerpiece, of course, is the inscribed steles. Orkhon writing is often referred to as "runes" due to its resemblance to the runes used by the Germanic peoples (and Tolkien's dwarves!), but they arose independently of each other. The sharp, narrow character of Orkhon runes is due to their use in decorating steles like Bilge Khan's. Cutting stone is hard and it's much easier to make straight lines. Around the world, stone-carved scripts tend to be angular and brush-written scripts tend to be curvier. That is not as interesting though, as the fact that apparently Orkhon were sometimes read from the bottom up [3].


One of Bilge Khan's monuments

Having seen them in person, I realize Khöshöö Tsaidam had been interesting to me long before I even knew what it was. When I was a child and beginning to be interested in language, I read an old, fat book about the history of writing around the world. Although I did not remember the name "Khöshöö Tsaidam," I remembered "Orkhon Turkish runes" and a page with a facsimile of them. How strange to think that now I was living next to something I had remembered from a book years ago.

Narrow, angular "runes" on the face of the stela

I took photos of the entire surface of the stele shown above in case I ever had the chance, and knowledge, to interpret it, but it turned out I didn't need to. Passing a tiny merchandise stand on our way out, I saw the book shown below, Хөх Түрүгийн Бичиг by Д. Баатар. The book featured a complete transcription, transliteration, and translation (into Mongolian) of the steles. This being a museum gift shop, it cost almost $30 ... but the book was right there right then and I didn't know if I would ever see it again, so ... of course I bought it!



Read more on this blog about the word хөшөө in the next Mongolian Word of the Week!

More Reading


Notes

  1. See UNESCO's site for the Orkhon Valley Cultural Landscape at http://whc.unesco.org/en/list/1081.
  2. June 27th, 2011, according to the news article "Хөшөө цайдам музейн нээлт боллоо" at http://www.mecs.gov.mn/mod/print/index.php?id=635 (in Mongolian).
  3. This odd writing direction (unique as far as I know of the world's languages) is mentioned on the Omniglot page (http://www.omniglot.com/writing/orkhon.htm). However, from reading my book on the inscriptions - Хөх Түрүгийн Бичиг (The Göktürk Script) by D. Baatar, it seems clear that Bilge Khan's inscription at least does not work this way.

Saturday, December 20, 2014

Surviving the Zombie Apocalypse in Mongolia

Амилсан хүүрийн сүйрлээс Монгол улсад амьд гарах нь


The Ancient Mayan Prophecy of (Maybe) Doom


Two years ago there was a big fuss about the world ending with the end of the Maya calendar on December 21, 2012. The fuss was not confined to America. I heard about it all December from Mongolians, although the nature of the concern was different. They weren't quite sure what exactly was supposed to happen, just that it would get cold. Really cold. And dark. It does anyway at that time of year, because it happens to be the winter solstice, but this time it was supposed to be much colder and darker than usual. Consequently, the herders were "buying lots of candles" and "making lots of buuz," according to one of the teachers. Sure enough, there were no candles left at the market. But so far, it sounded as if the Maya had prophesied nothing more malevolent than an electrical outage.

On the day of the winter solstice (which was indeed very cold), however, there were only ten students in class. When I asked where the other fifteen were, the class leader reported that they had stayed home because of "дэлхийн сүүлд (the end of the world)." I asked if they were worried about the end of the world, and she replied, "No, Mongolians are not afraid of anything." (At least, the ones who dared come to school.) But then she added,

"The Americans are afraid."

"How do you know?"

"I saw it on TV. They were running and yelling."

I assured her that I, at least, was not afraid.

End-of-the-World Time Lags, in Cincinnati and Mongolia


Of course, the world didn't end that day, and I recalled a quote from Mark Twain, which put things in perspective a bit:

"When the world ends, I would like to be in Cincinnati, because everything happens to Cincinnati ten years later than the rest of the world.1

I confided to some friends that this is sort of how I felt about living in my village. Given the glacial pace of communication, the world might well have ended without me realizing it yet. As we talked, we thought how lucky we were, because if civilization collapsed, due to, say, a zombie apocalypse, Mongolia would be the best place to be, as I explain below.

Мммм, тархи!


Mongolia is Cold /  Zombicicles


First, assuming that our zombies are created by something like a virus (i.e., not magic), they should conform to what we know about the world scientifically.

This means that zombies, like living, non-un-dead humans, freeze. Initially, zombies may be a bit less ruffled by hypothermia than humans, because symptoms like cognitive and motor impairment don't make much difference to zombies. But if they stay out in sub-zero weather, they will lose heat until they reach the ambient temperature. Frozen muscles, no muscle contractions, no movement.

Mongolia is cold. Usually by late November, the daily high temperature dips below zero (Celsius) and stays there until March or so. Outdoor zombies will be rigid zombicicles for at least three months of the year, immobile and defenseless. An enterprising zombie killer could just walk right up to zombies and shatter their heads with a sledgehammer. He could work at a leisurely pace too.

Frost begins in September and ends in May, punctuated by thaws during the day. This is just as dangerous. The expansion of water and formation of ice crystals ruptures cells, causing frostbite. Every time this repeats, the damage is worse, which is why doctors advise that frostbitten tissue should be kept frozen until it can be thawed once and correctly.2 Zombies blown in the shifting whims of weather will freeze and thaw often, suffering massive tissue damage even before they become true zombicicles.

Once they freeze completely, ice crystals will form inside the deepest tissues of the body. The brain will thus be ripped apart by millions of tiny crystals. Everything I've seen about zombies agrees that destroying the central nervous system kills them. So Nature will kill the zombies even without human intervention.

Humans survive by adding layers of clothing, building gers, and starting fires in them. Zombies lack the intelligence and dexterity to do these (and most other) self-preserving actions. It's interesting that every time I see zombies on the screen, it's someplace warm, or during the summer. I guess if they froze, there would be no story.

Son, today I'm going to teach you how to kill zombies.


Mongolia is Remote


The Mongolian climate means that zombies will be a threat only in summer, but even then, there won't be many zombies. Since they will all be killed in winter, they have to build their numbers all over again each summer, probably by immigration from warmer places. They won't be able to accumulate.

Mongolia also has the lowest population density of any sovereign country,3 so the zombies there will be few and sparsely distributed. A dumb corpse could stumble around the steppe for days before running into a living person, so infection would spread slowly. Anyone who did run into a zombie would likely encounter lone zombies rather than flocks.

Mongolia is far away from large population centers. Much of the country is mountain and desert, and mountains and deserts surround it on several sides, creating natural barriers. Since zombies like to throng in cities, where the food is, it's unlikely that they would leave Beijing or Moscow for Mongolia, but if they did, they would freeze or be desiccated while crossing the Gobi, the Taklamakan, the Altai mountains...and so on. For added protection, the Great Wall could be given a makeover. Instead of keeping nomads out of China, it could keep zombies out of Mongolia.

Unless the outbreak started in Ulaanbaatar itself, zombies are unlikely to threaten Mongolia.

Mongolia has Mongols


Then there's the people. Mongolians in the countryside deal with extreme conditions on a daily basis and are good at it. They know how to live without running water, electricity, and many other for-granteds of the modern world. They can ride horses, find fuel, make fires, cook, fix all kinds of things, and more. They frequently wield axes, which can be used to destroy zombie brains. If they're herders, they're also nearly self-sufficient with food (they may need flour imported). So if the infrastructure collapses, they'll manage. And if we're talking about medieval Mongolia, then we're also talking about Mongol hordes - probably the best mounted archers the world has seen. A Mongol warrior could gallop through a gaggle of the undead and hit them with skull-piercing arrows without even getting close.

As far as I know, Cincinnati doesn't have all these advantages.



1. Or maybe Twain didn't say it. Variations of the joke have been around for a long time in various places, according to Quote Investigator (http://quoteinvestigator.com/2012/03/20/end-of-world-time-lag/).

2. For example, see the National Institute of Health (http://www.nlm.nih.gov/medlineplus/ency/article/000057.htm) or the Mayo Clinic (http://www.mayoclinic.org/first-aid/first-aid-frostbite/basics/art-20056653).

3. Not counting Greenland, or Western Sahara, or a bunch of tiny islands which aren't actually independent. Check the World Bank (http://data.worldbank.org/indicator/EN.POP.DNST?order=wbapi_data_value_2013+wbapi_data_value+wbapi_data_value-last&sort=asc) or World Atlas (http://www.worldatlas.com/aatlas/populations/ctypopls.htm), or Index Mundi (http://www.indexmundi.com/g/r.aspx?v=21000).

Tuesday, July 10, 2012

MWW 29: Сум


Cyrillic
сум

Transcription
sum
IPA
[sʊm]
Layman’s
Pronunciation
SOOM
Translation
county, district, village
In Genghis Khan’s time it was sumu.

Map of Mongolian sumshttp://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/d/df/Mongolia_sum_map.png

A sum (also transcribed soum sometimes) is a kind of political subdivision in Mongolia. In English it is usually translated as "district" or "county." Here in PC Mongolia, we usually don't translate it and just say sum in English, because we all know exactly what we're talking about, and don't have to say things like "district" that don't really fully convey what we mean by a sum. Sum also has connotations of "rural," and the sums collectively make up the хөдөө (hödöö, "countryside"), which stands in contrast to the various хот ("city"), including aimag centers (аймгийн төв), designated cities (like Дархан / Darhan and Эрдэнэт / Erdenet, which have equal status to provinces), and the capital Улаанбаатар / Ulaanbaatar. (As a matter of fact, Mongolians usually don't say "Улаанбаатар," they just say хот "the city." When unspecfied, it's assumed they mean Ulaanbaatar.)

If you visit a typical sum, you will find yourself in a small and often undeveloped (by American standards) kind of human settlement that would probably fit the image of a "village." They average about 3,000 people. The one exception is Хархорин (Kharkhorin), which is the ancient capital, a major tourist site, has over 14,000 people, and generally fits the description of a town. This part is the "sum center," because technically the sum also includes the out-of-sight nomads who orbit the sum center. Soums are divided into small units (often only a couple hundred people) called bags (баг). Usually the soum center is one bag, with the surrounding steppe divided into several more bags.

Here in Peace Corps we often divide volunteers into UB volunteers (in Ulaanbaatar), aimag volunteers (in aimag centers / provincial capitals), and soumers (out in rural areas). Not many volunteers get put in UB (proportionally much fewer than the 40% or so of Mongolia's population that lives there). Most people get put in aimag centers, which usually have plenty of infrastructure but are still only partly developed. Aimag centers usually have several PCVs together. Sums aren't big enough to warrant having many developers, so soumers, almost by definition, are the only volunteers, and often the only non-Mongolians at their sites. The exception, again, is Kharkhorin, which has two volunteers (but this is still smaller than some aimag centers that have half a dozen volunteers or so). Soumers also generally deal with fewer options in shopping, and fewer or no places to eat out. UB and aimag PCVs are usually put up in apartments. Soum PCVs are never in apartments, and almost only in gers (except some in forested areas who have wooden houses). Six volunteers, including me, have no internet access at site, and we're all soumers. For us, using the internet, visiting friends, or buying fruit means traveling from site. That can be a journey of anywhere from 1 hour in my case, to 6 hours (I hear) in the case of another guy out in the Gobi. Soums may or may not have paved roads or plumbing. Sucks, doesn't it? Well...actually not. Pretty soon you get used to the "deprivation." Furthermore, we get the "жинхэнэ Монгол" ("real Mongolian") experience. Our daily lives are permeated with the kinds of things that tourists pay thousands of dollars to see for a week or two in the summer: gers, airag, horses, ovoos, vast skies and steppes, deel-clad nomads herding sheep, and nothing but Mongolian spoken. And anyway, if you just wanted to sit in a cushy apartment, why join Peace Corps?