I was lucky enough to be picked up by my friend Lily (Javkhlan) who I met six years ago when she was studying abroad at my high school. None of us had any idea then that the tables would turn like this and I would have the opportunity to visit her home! Her family has been very sweet and is letting me stay with them for my first few days while I get my bearings and figure out my next place to stay along the way.
My first impression of the city is less than glamorous. To counteract the idyllic image of shepherds and eagle hunters, a lot of [generally NPR] articles I've read about Mongolia have emphasized the economic growth spurt in recent years in Ulaanbaatar... these articles (about the skyscrapers and high-end fashion stores) somehow created an image in my brain that overlooked the fact that Mongolia is, in fact, still a developing nation. I'm not sure how I envisioned a romanticized shift from pastoral countryside to sleek urbanism without the requisite broken sidewalks, street dogs, pollution and general disorganization that accompanies any country in such a transition.
(Below is a photo of the "ger[yurt] camps." UB slums show an interesting combination of nomadic traditions and urban dwelling)
In addition to the harmless dirtiness of a developing country, Mongolia still maintains enough Soviet architectural influence to add a feeling of oppressiveness. All around the city center are block-style apartments, all labeled by number, with hundreds of families packed in around a cement courtyard. The paint is peeling and the cold stairwells smell of all sorts of things, however (and this, I'm learning, is a metaphor for all of Mongolia), once you enter an apartment, you'll see that the family inside has carved out quite the lovely, comforting and welcoming home.
(A brief note of Mongolian history [to my understanding]: Mongolia kicked the Chinese military out of their country in the 1920's, with the help of the Russians. This built an allegiance to Russia and since then Mongolia was under a huge Soviet influence, becoming fully Communist and playing shadow and staging ground for a lot of the USSR's actions. In 1990, Mongolia shed communism and was the first country to become democratic and capitalist simultaneously...a lot of rapid economic and cultural growth has happened since then!)
Back to the narrative: I've walked around the city a bit, got a phone, made progress in arranging Mongolian language lessons, and generally have been taking my time settling in. I've been trying to channel patience throughout this transition - not everything is going to fall into place at once, and I need to be thankful that the wheels are turning as fast as they are.
And tonight some wheels turned even further: I was able to meet my contortion coach and chat with her about our plans! We talked for over an hour about scheduling, training, traditions, taking care of my body, et cetera. I will be training 5-7 days a week (depending on how many I choose - she would usually recommend taking a rest day, but since I'm only here for three months, she wants to give me as much training as possible!) and will alternate days between contortion, handbalancing and other circus disciplines (she also teaches trapeze, lyra, bounce juggling, and more!) My classmates will be ten Mongolian girls between the ages of seven and fifteen (talk about being the odd one out!).
Interesting things that came up in the conversation: She described Mongolian contortion as looking more "classical," "flexible," and "natural," whereas Chinese contortion doesn't come from flexibility, but comes from "sport." She said that I may have a hard time training with the girls since I am an adult, but she has noticed that US contortionists often have more patience because they have chosen to study contortion themselves, instead of being pushed into it by their parents.
"Patience" came up quite a lot in the conversation. "Contortion is all about patience." She talked about how I have to have patience in particular stretches - she will make me hold a stretch for one minute and I will have to be patient throughout it - and also I have to have patience throughout the months since flexibility takes time to progress. Lily's mother was with us and she shared a story: she had seen a Mongolian contortionist, a young girl, on television. After performing, the anchor asked her what made Mongolian contortionists different than other nationalities. And she said, "Mongolian contortionists are more patient."
This is quite the metaphor to chew on. I've though a lot about the life lesson in contortion about relaxing in the face of pain, but I've never articulated the intense patience needed in the discipline... I'm re-reading "The Art of Learning" right now by Josh Waitzkin, and he emphasizes how the challenges in your practice (for him martial arts and chess) are always microcosms of challenges in your greater life (and vice versa). I certainly see a theme developing in my own.
