I’m writing this from
my work computer, as this is one of the few spare moments I’ve had in the last
week. Unfortunately that means attendant pictures will have to wait for a
separate post, but I will try to get those up reasonably quickly. A lot has happened
in the last week, life here is quite literally non-stop. With that in mind,
instead of my usual blow-by-blow account (which at this point would comprise a
small novel) I’ll try to offer a few snapshots of my time here.
First a brief
introduction: My work at Amnesty is going very well. Most of my duties are
comprised of developing human rights training programs for various groups. My
main project to date is writing and presenting a training module on trial
fairness to a group of lawyers (!) The office is a very pleasant place, to the
extent that it has become a bit of a refuge from the driving pace of life here.
There are a half-dozen local, full-time staff members here, all of whom are
friendly and, mercifully, somewhat versed in English. There is also another
foreign volunteer, here on a program called the Australian Youth Ambassadors
for Development. She’s been here for almost a year already, and has all kinds
of useful tips for a neophyte expat. She, the American, and the Aussi (see
above) are regular companions in exploring UB (as locals call it).
So, a snapshot of life
here:
This was my weekend.
On Friday night, the Ambassador, the Aussi, the American, and I met for dinner
after work. After some (refreshingly) western fare, we met a whole hoard of
other expats at a bar (the Ambassador being our connection) and downed some
Chinngis Khan beer at a lovely little dive called “Hawaii bar” (never has a bar
earned its name less). We closed the place down (people don’t stay out too late
here).
The next morning we
met outside the UN building for brunch (Diplomats get the best breakfasts) and
hustled off in cabs to the ‘Black Market’. This is a massive outdoor marketplace
covering about 10 city blocks where you can buy just about anything that
exists. We weren’t there long as we were
running late for the opera! Yes, the opera. More specifically Ghengis Khan: the
opera. The Ambassador and another aussi (who I’m dubbing the Clown, for her
goofy demeanor and, well, extensive background in clowning) and I had seats in the
National Opera House of Mongolia! The sets and costumes were beautiful and
detailed, and the opera house was very nice. The show itself was a little indulgent,
kind of a cross between Henry V and Jesus Christ: Superstar (Ghengis Khan:
Superstar?) After the show (which started at 5) we stepped out into the
blinding sunlight over Sukhbataar Square (pictures forthcoming) and went for a
bit of a walk around town. Randomly running into the Aussi and the American,
and losing the Clown to a house party, we got out for dinner (Russian, because
what’s a post-communist state without a little borscht?)
After dinner we were
all pretty tired, so we decided to just get one drink before heading home
(hah!). Ulaanbataar, however, ruins the best laid plans. The Aussies were
craving some beer from home so we went to the one café where ‘Coopers’ would be
served. Just inside the door we were greeted by a full camera crew complete with
a couple of boom mikes and an eccentric director. The waitress was just in the
midst of asking us to leave (couldn’t we see they were in the middle of a
shoot!) when the director and camera man approached to, you guessed it, ask us
if we wanted to be in their movie. So yea, that’s the story of how I spent the
next 2 hours pretending to chat up a girl while the crew filmed take after take
of a guy walking in to deliver a flower to a young woman. (its also the story
of how I became the scene-stealing star of ‘Homeboy’: in Mongolian theatres
this August).
None of us were tired
after that experience, so there then was an expat party, and a quick nap (also
known as my night’s sleep) before I was off to the countryside to ride horses
for a day. However that’s a story better told with real snapshots, which will
be provided soon!
Hope you all are well,
Tom
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