This post comes a few days late. I was hoping to write before I left Mongolia last Wednesday, but found myself frantically working up until the last minute. Now, I have been back in the United States for a few days and the past ten months I’ve spent living in Ulaanbaatar already feel like a surreal dream.
I have not been posting nearly as much as I would have liked over the summer because I have been so busy collecting interviews and footage. But I look forward to sharing all that I have been working on over the coming months as I begin editing my documentary about rock music in Mongolia.
For now, however, I’d like to share some personal thoughts on my time in Mongolia.
As I depart from the land of Chinggis Khan, mutton, camels, and seriously adorable babies, I am struck by how fond I’ve grown of this place. It has not been an easy place to live. Crossing the busy streets clogged with honking cars often felt like a suicide mission. Finding a decent (affordable) salad became a small, but not insignificant, victory. Walking down the sidewalk was often an adventure as I would negotiate piles of rubble, uncovered manholes, and hostile nationalists. Learning what I could of the Mongolian language (which my friend claims sounds like aggressive Elvish) was a feat. And simply surviving the brutal and lengthy winter was a major accomplishment.
Yet, despite the physical and mental challenges of living in a city like this, I grew to love it. I’m left with two overwhelming impressions of the Mongolian people and culture. First, there is a sense of optimism that permeates the country – from the nomadic herder to the ambitious college grad. Second, I was constantly impressed by the generosity and hospitality of the people who were so eager to help me with my project and time in Mongolia.
Mongolia is a small country. It’s landlocked between two political and economic giants: China and Russia. Until recently, the majority of the population survived off of their livestock. The climate is extreme and the infrastructure outside of the capitol is sparse. It’s not an easy place to be.
But the challenges seem to only embolden Mongolians as a people. While I might look at the nomadic lifestyle and see a path full of uncertainty, hard labor, and harsh weather, they see an incredible amount of freedom. I might look at Ulaanbaatar and see chaos that I still can’t fully understand, and they see entrepreneurial opportunities. Mongolians are proud to be descendents of some of the greatest conquerors the world has ever known. They know that the wealth of their country lies not only in the natural resources so many entities are eager to extract, but the incredible wilderness and nomadic life that is hard to find elsewhere. They know there is something special about a country that has maintained the same language, script, diet, clothing, and music for over a millennium.
If I adopted anything from Mongolia, I hope it is this sense of optimism and self-worth.
Over the past ten months I have often said that I wished I had a partner. Filming, interviewing, editing, and researching such an expansive topic as rock music in a language I don’t fully understand proved to be a daunting task. But I did have an enormous amount of help. In fact, I relied on the kindness of strangers for almost all of my research.
Almost everyone I have met has been so supportive of my project, offering their time, contacts, advice, interviews and free translation in spades. The Mongolian music community took me in and rallied for my success. The foreign research community has been generous with their knowledge and experience. I owe these people so much and feel lucky and honored to have benefited from their generosity.
As I mentioned above, I will be spending the next several months sifting through my massive amount of material and will continue to update this blog.
Thank you for following over the past year and I hope you continue to read about the music, culture, and times of the Land of the Blue Sky.
For now, here is a short video capturing a herding family moving from their summer to fall location in Khovd Province: