Time to go home

Like the Pet Shop Boys hit tune, I will tomorrow be taking the opportunity to 'go west', but I feel so content I could stay the whole summer in Mongolia. Altaa's parents came this morning which conicided with my departure preparations. This is their first visit to Ulaanbaatar since 1989 i.e before the fall of communism, when the Central Cultural Palace was brand new. It is often said that the past is another country; well UB certainly is another city from the one they remember. I've seen some black-and-white photos of when they came to UB in 1989, but could just be that the city was so grey as to permit no colour. Altaa's parents remember some aspects of the past, but feel that the city has vastly changed (as it should) over the past 18 years.

Birth time anniversary (a little out)

On my birthday yesterday (although technically it was at 5am on Mongolian time today, since I was born at 10pm BST and this year the Mongolians chose not to put the clocks back), Altaa and I decided to splash out. We went to the Veranda (spelt that way) restaurant which was having a special Spanish week taht we caught the last day of, with a guest chef from Spain, Guillermo Trullas, combining with the resident chef Taivan. The set Spanish menu was very good, especially the starters - calamari, gaspatcho soup and shrimps in oil with garlic and a small, but powerful chili pepper. I chose the Taimen fish for my main course and for desert it was like rice pudding but you mixed the milk sugar with the rice mostly yourself. All this with a lovely view over the Choijin Lama monastery and Altaa presenting me with my birthday present - the book, The Secret History of the Mongols.
After this, we went to the Steppe Inn for the first time properly. Essentially, it's a bar in a big portakabin at the back of the British Embassy, with Her Majesty's staff pulling the pints or serving the spirits. The ambassador himself tends to err on the side of socializing rather than muck in with his underlings and wife. He has stayed away from Europe and North America during his career, preferring proverbial Third World postings. He was ambassador in Hong Kong during the handover in 1997 and a little after and affectionately refers to Chris Pattern as Pat. There's also an embassy cat who is exceptionally friendly. Outside, there are some tables in a space that during the colder months has a ger erected in it. Form the Steppe Inn we carried on to the Blue Martini to talk with Ana and Sol and a couple of their Mongolian friends, before heading home, not wanting to be too exhausted.

We Are The Champions

It was mission accomplished on Thursday night. Despite only having one regular member of the usual team present, with three guests (later reduced to two), I picked the team that triumphed in the quiz. Initially, we had the American Defense attache with us prompting Dave Western, the pub landlord, to demur about the composition of our team (re: not giving the others a chance), but the US man was just socializing before returning to his team. We were worried after round one because we were level with the 'wineshakers' team who had twice our numbers. In the end though, even with a late surge from the 'sausages' (friends of the original team), we emerged victorious, by a good seven points over the second-placed 'sausages' 60 points to 53(although by our count ten: 63 to 53). I also happened to be there for only the second time a team finished with zero points for round one (having been there earlier this year for the first time), but this team chose not to disband at that as had the first lot and rallied to finish with 18 points. So for us, it was fifty-eight thousand tugrug shared between the four of us - not much but enough to pay for the bar tab. It was the winning that counted and with Dave selling up at the end of the summer and not returning to the pub trade, it could be the last English pub quiz in Mongolia I might attend.

In the countryside

On Monday, Altaa and I decided to go to the countryside and escape the fumes of Ulaanbaatar. We got to a good spot in Terelj National Park, just outside the city, at 8.30pm and spent the next two and a half days there. The first night we spent in a ger, but we were beset by black ants, a few in our bed, but most making a beeline (or ant-line?) for our food. Having survived the night, we moved to a chalet-style cottage and left the ants to the newly-arrived German tourists in the morning. There were still a few insects, but nothing like before. It was a great time as we interspersed good walks with doing nothing.
I'm the kind of person who thinks sunscreen is overrated, but I pushed my skin too far on the Tuesday, a mild sensation of soreness covering my arms, shoulders and legs - the sunburn. Still, there was nothing we could do, as we had left the sunscreen at home in our forgetfulness.
In the city, everything is really close and is easy to get to. On Tuesday night, at seven minutes to eight, I saw the sunsetting on the hill on the opposite side of the valley. It didn't look that far, maybe five minutes running there. So I dashed across dale and gulley and sprinted up the hill and twenty minutes later, not five, with my heart virtually leaping out of my chest, I had achieved my objective and caught the last rays of the day (it was an objective, I had to achieve it).
On Wednesday, as we rested in our country home, we kept the door wide open. A little sparrow landed on our porch and hopped along. How good to be so close to nature I thought. A minute later, cows were seeking entry into our cottage for pastures new, but my approach with my camera deterred the photo-shy animals. Eventually, they shuffled off before being "shooed" out of the summer camp. They, like the horses that night, had come through a gate-less part of the fence looking for fresher grass. The horses themselves were eventually shown the rough of the Mongolian owners' tongues and beat a hasty retreat.
Two and a half days is not long enough to fully recharge the lungs after so long in UB, but other matters needed to be attended to and we left after eight on the Thursday morning to catch the bus back to town. These other matters included going for a luxury sauna in the Gobi Sauna located near our home for the first time. It certainly was the best 10,000 tugrugs could buy (roughly four pound eighty). Not only did it have 'Finland Sauna' and jacuzzi, but also three separate upstairs saunas of, in order they should be used, amethyst, agate and salt (they got gradually hotter), with a five minute break for each, going to a relaxing room. In a way, a shame that after living near it since the middle of February, I've only just gone to it, but at least I did go and Altaa's planning to become a fairly regular customer.

Tempus fugit too fast

I really need another full week to do everything I want at a leisurely pace, but of course time isn't like that when you're having a good time.
I go to probably my last Mongolian English pub quiz tonight. Last week was special. First of all, I was doing it as a guest questionmaster and by and large it was a lot of fun. Second, since last Thursday fell slap bang in the middle of Naadam, it was put back to a Saturday, so I had the rare honour of conducting my questions not on a Thursday (and Thursday is quiz night in Ulaanbaatar, no questions asked). I gave the nine teams a maximum of 92 points available from three rounds of fifteen questions plus a 25-pointer table rounds - how does that work out; well, many of my questions had subsets of bonuses, plus there were big questions such as name the 'new seven wonders of the world', a point each (there were surprisingly many who put down the Grand Canyon). Overall, the bottom team finished with 17 points but they were barely out of nappies, while the regular winners topped it with 60 points, comfortably outpacing 2nd place by 5 and a half points. I wanted a different team to win, but I can't deny the best team won. My table round was guess the film from 25 taglines (with year of release added for helping people). The films were also arranged in alphabetical order, but four of five began with 'the'. I also had to shout across Dave's Place's verandah which is not as easy as it seems without a microphone - I think most of Sukhbaatar Square heard me though!
The previous week some an American couple had done it and - surprise, surprise - Americans won it. I suppose it was Fourth of July though. Our team, also finished fourth, out of 11 teams. The week before though we had mullered the opposition, annihilating second place by a massive 20 points as we finished on 67 points. This all sets up tonight - winner takes all.
Last Sunday night, I went out for cocktails with Altaa. We met up with her Danish film-makers in a bar called the Blue Martini. Previously, this had been on the fifth floor with a 1950s diner-look and a view over the UB skyline. Now, they've shifted it to an upholstered corner of the ground floor, with nothing like the original atmosphere. We also met there one of my fellow teachers from Engram, the London-bred, Welsh-named Angharad (or Ana as she prefers) and her Mongolian boyfriend Sol - they had met two years ago in a London Wetherspoons, aahhh, how sweet. After that, we went for dinner in a Korean restaurant and thoroughly enjoyed the three big meals we shared.

Another one bites the dust

Another court case, another disgraced Tory peer. Yesterday media tycoon Conrad Black finally faced up to prison which many believe he so richly deserves. Fraud and obstruction of justice; tsk tsk. Caught on CCTV carting away boxes of documents as investigators were closing in really is quite incriminating. It's another scalp for super-prosecutor Patrick Fitzgerald, but it also exposes the Daily Telegraph - that institution of right-wing arrogance - no less than its Sunday sister as once being owned by nothing more than a petty crook, who, unlike Robert Maxwell, justice got. The Telegraph sees itself as high and mighty, but for the true aristocracy it is just a parvenu and this ruling merely confirms that. Overall though this is probably the last chapter in the 1990s sleaze that badly infested the Conservative Party and contibuted to its exile from power.

Last season

I know it's been a long time since it finished, but now I am compelled to give my overview of the football season. These thoughts have been rumbling around since before the Premiership finished, but I just never found the time or other matters seemed more worthy of writing about. So I would have justified at the end of the Premier Season, then the Spanish La Liga season, then the Copa America has come around and after that started, now the Asian Cup. The football never stops.
I've alread talked about Newcastle so I'll move on to this season's Premiership's closest escapes. Chris Hutchings begins a new era at Wigan after succeeding Paul Jewell as manager. You would have thought Wigan would have sought not to repeat Bradford's recent history. Several years ago, Jewell kept Bradford in the Premiership with a last day win. He has now done the same thing with Wigan. As with Bradford, he resigned soon after keeping them up. Hutchings was chosen to be his replacement, as with Wigan now. Hutchings, in his 137 day reign at Valley Parade, was one of three managers who failed to keep Bradford up the following season, the club instaed finishing bottom of the Premiership. It has been in decline ever since, haveing near brushes with liquidation. Next season, Bradford will be entering English football's fourth tier. Will this be Wigan's fate?
As for West Ham, it is sheer hypocrisy for some managers, chairmen and commentators to say West Ham's survival is tainted. I suppose they are using the old adage: say something enough times and it becomes true. The High Court will adjudicate today on the consequences for West Ham which is another pressing reason to do this.
"There's no justice, there's no justice," carped Dave Whelan, as his Wigan sent Sheffield United down. Well there is, just not the kind of justice he approves of. The disciplinary panel should have got their act together long before their ruling (sometime in February, say, after the transfer to Liverpool of Javier Mascherano exposed things). Furthermore, mentioning the reason (one of several it must be said) that they did not deduct points because it would almost certainly relegate West Ham was exceptionally provocative, but they did slap a 5.5 million pound fine on the Hammers, which is unprecedented. The whingers say it's cheap at the price of staying in the Premiership which receives amassive cash injection next season, so would they be happy if the fine was 30 million pounds, but still no points deducted? Yes five and half million smackers is a good price for an Argentinian World Cup forward, but it must be remembered that Carlos Tevez's and Mascherano's arrival at West Ham on mysterious contracts was disruptive to team ethic, though the players were absent of blame and this contributed to West Ham's slump into the relegation zone. The players had a material impact on West Ham's fall as well as Tevez having a material impact on West Ham's rise.
Would the 'Gang of Four' (Sheffield United, Wigan, Charlton and Fulham) have taken action if the Hammers were comfortably mid-table, purely on principle? Of course not, by their own admission. And if West Ham were relegated, would the court case go ahead? Obviously not, again by their own admission. Don't talk about justice and principles Whelan, talk about naked self-interest. Anyway, West Ham finished 15th which is the lowest extremity of mid-table and on 41 points, which - taking into account goal difference - is effectively two points clear of Sheffield United. So a panel can retrospectively take away two points and West Ham can still stay up. The only justice that Whelan and the other clubs want is something that suits them. Though Wigan and Fulham survived, they have to stay in the pact with Sheffield United and Charlton out of solidarity for fear of damage to their reputations if they dropped the matter. They have an ally in Middlesborough, the last club to be deducted points for breaking the rules (and relegated as a result), but isn't it cosy that the Boro chairman is friends with Dave Whelan?
It must be remembered in all this that West Ham broke rule U18 in theory, not in practice (so far). Can someone be sent to prison just for being able to rob a bank, though refraining from doing so? The police would be suspicious but the bank would be unharmed. The greatest harm to the Premier League is the grubby court case brought by the Gang of Four plus Middlesborough. Irrespective that West Ham were thrashed 3-0 by the Blades and 4-0 by the Addicks at a critical point of the season, it seems results on the pitch are not enough when big money is at stake. Going back in history it's doesn't hold a candle to Arsenal in the 1920s bribing the authorities to not be relegated thereby laying the foundations of their future success, but as I said, justice isn't the reason here.
This whole farrago puts into the shade West Ham's miraculous playing escape though finishing with one less point than when they were last relegated. Charlton seemed likely to stay up but fell short and West Ham didn't. Winning seven games out of nine is phenomenal, with completion of crazy league doubles over Arsenal and Manchester United among them. Sir Alex Ferguson was criticised for putting out a weakened team, but he had a greater priority in the FA Cup the next week than helping send West Ham down. And his team had oodles of chances anyway but failed to put them away. On a side note, it also means that, despite being frozen out after seeking a mid-season transfer to Charlton, Teddy Sheringham does not have a relegation black mark on his glorious CV.
When Tottenhm beat West Ham 4-3 when the Hammers were leading 3-2 in the 89th minute, one football writer commented that on Spurs' equalising third goal Alan Curbishley spun away from the pitchside in dismay, throwing his water bottle high up in the air. The writer then, with poetic licence, said that when the bottle landed, West Ham had one foot in the Championship. At the time, many would have been inclined to agree, but they were proved wrong. For this was the moment that afterwards West Ham went on their amazing run. A first away win of the season at Blackburn in their next game was clouded by controversy. Bobby Zamora's goalbound effort was ironically cleared off the line by an offside Tevez, but still given as a goal based on the crucial opinion of the linesman, Jim Devine. As another football writer said of the Gang of Four's anti-West Ham crusade, they might as well serve a writ on Devine. To paraphrase an irate chairman, if there's any justice, West Ham will be playing in the Premiership next season.
Now that they have changed his contract by effectively ripping up the old one, it's a bit cheeky that West Ham might get a massive windfall should Carlos Tevez be snapped up. It's been bitty though. Who would Scarface rather play for - a team in the Champions League or a club he has been with one season and won't even be in the UEFA Cup next season? He should not bad-mouth Curbishley to justify his move to Hammers' fans.
You would have thought West Ham would lie low after getting away from relegation but their massive spending spree suggests otherwise. And they are not the only ones. The sound of warchests being opened is everywhere. Even Derby County are breaking the bank with a record signing of 3.5 million pounds but that is small beer compared to others. So many clubs are spending on great players that there's going to be massive disappointment for many even if the Premiership will become more exciting. For Portsmouth to spending twenty million pounds so far would have been unthinkable a few years ago and other small clubs are heavily investing. I guess that's what a one billion pound television contract gets you.
Fulham's ground of Craven Cottage fully deserves its name after the shabby treatment of Chris Coleman. He's gone to manage recently relegated Real Sociedad but his reputation is more one of keeping small clubs up than taking them up. His crime was not just the results on the pitch but to criticise the board for lack of funds. Then his successor gets lavished with massive investment. Their ambition was to be the Manchester United of the south; instead that title went to their west London rivals, Chelsea.
After Arsenal's crisp 'to me, to you' one-touch passing, there follows an elaborate courtesy ritual when they get a sniff of goal. It's "no, no, after you," "oh no, no no, no, after you," "goodness no, after you," by which time defenders have rushed back in force, goalkeepers have blocked or deflected it and fans are exasperated. But what else can one expect from sophisticated continentals. Thierry Henry grew tired of his team not getting to the point too and has hopped off to Barcelona so the finals choker can realise his dream of winning the European Cup, even though his new team have fallen at the last-16 stage for two of the past three seasons and four years ago were beaten on aggregate by Celtic in the UEFA Cup 1-0. Arsenal's style will always be appreciated most by those who aren't Arsenal fans.
I can't analyse very team. That would take forever. But I had to get these thoughts down on the blog and now I have. Phew!

Naadam round-up

Although there is one more day left of the Naadam summer festival to come tomorrow, the main events at the Central Stadium have now drawn to a close, so I'll offer a brief overview of my experiences at this seminal Mongolian cultural date (from 11th-12th July).
Like Wimbledon for the British, Mongolians associate Naadam with rain. As on cue, as Altaa and I arrived at the Central Stadium yesterday, there were drips that became heavier with incessance neccessitating the deployment of an umbrella, but it soon eased off and one hour later blazing sunshine was beating down.
The opening ceremony was grand with people dressed in traditional Mongolian clothes, pop stars, performing artists, bikers, Tsam dancers and Miss Mongolias (nine are named each year, though one is supreme) parading around on a race track. When the performing artists did their thing, it was a grand view from the VIP section. Unfortunately, I was not in there. The action was largely obscured by the banners on sticks (incidentally bearing swastikas with a squiggle underneath, though there were no untoward events at what might be misconstrued as a rally) and the vehicle floats that had driven onto the field of play. In this respect the stadium could do with two giant indoor screens at either end of the oval ground so everyone could see what was happening.
Altaa was working with some Danish film-makers who had come to film the routine of a small boy durng Naadam. So we spent most of the rest of the day with them. Peace Avenue and other streets were quite quiet but this was explained by the gridlock of cars at the outskirts of the city trying to either get to the horse-racing event or beyond to visit their families in the countryside in this holiday break. Eventually, our jeep driver, like plenty of others decided at the next turning to drive on the wrong way along the dual carriageway to the worried consternation of the Danes. This was packed as well, but at least we were continually moving. Getting out to the countryside with its fresh, clean air was a must after this, though I had gone for the air anyway (the Danes had gone to film the boy at his ger, a case of a family getting out of the city to live in the countryside when most choose the opposite).
Once in the countryside, we were surrounded by vast open sky and around our feet wildlife of all descriptions, including massive grasshoppers, crickets and beetles, the latter regularly climbing small sprigs of vegetation to get a better vantage point. With the Danish photographer while the two female Danes were filming an interview we went walkabout, partly because even from twenty feet away the sound equipment was sensitive enough to pick up our voices. During this, we saw black beetles mating and stallions gratuitously showing off their black members. In the distance we could see the stragglers from the horse-racing amid the dust they kicked up. Finding some free time for myself, I chased a flying cricket until it was so exhausted and slowing down if I wanted to I could have reached out my hand and caught it. Eventually, it was so tired, it couldn't be bothered to fly anymore and scurried away, at which point I left it. That was also good exercise for drawing the clean air deep into my lungs.
On the second day of Naadam today, Altaa was away again with the film-makers in the countryside, so I went to the Central Stadium by myself. I stayed for an hour and a half from 11am for some wrestling. Compared to the opening ceremony the stadium was now sparsely filled and the policemen seemed to outnumber the VIPs in that section. The sun was once more bright and hot and my umbrella doubled as a parasol. There were many bouts going on all over the field so it was hard to know which to look at - basically, keep open eyes and look for movement and you might be rewarded by a wrestler tumbling another to the ground. One tense, equalising encounter was yielding nothing and maybe for entertainment the judge slapped the bottom of one of the wrestlers on two different times. It might have been for an infringement, but certainly not for holding which is integral to Mongolian wrestling. Victorious wrestlers get to raise their arms aloft and swagger around an imitation of the five banners Chinggis Khaan used on his campaigns, before jogging back to the rest area. The banners are cermoniously guarded by four soldiers in traditional military costume, with sword swept back in scabbard. I saw a changing of the guard so at least they don't have to spend all day sweltering in their outfits outside.
The wrestling was interesting but I chose not to stay all day watching it. I went to the archery range but they were already finished, so I progressed to the anklebone shooting tent. It was a bit like airborne shove ha'penny, but with anklebones. The children and tourists launched their tiles off a handheld ramp at a bottle cap on a shelf, but the competitors had real anklebones to aim at, the idea being to hit the anklebone off the shelf. They could be knocked off quite spectacularly.
I walked back into town via Children's Park which is open for half the summer. As far as I could see they haven't done anything to it since I last visited it in September. So they put up massive fences, bar entry for most of the year, but don't actually do any work. The facade but not the substance. Talking of facades, they are still finishing building the one infront of the Parliament House, a year after it was supposed to be finished. They should complete it by the end of the year though. I read somewhere that Mongolia might make a tilt at the 2036 Olympics. With the current sporting infrastructure, 2136 may be more realistic. A lot can happen in 29 years however; it's just that Mongolians are better at doing traditional Mongolian things than western things which is natural. There are always two side to globalisation and the consequences.

No more work

Okay, now for some ordinary news. I finished my work at Engram teaching today. A little sad to be leaving, but all things must come to an end. The last class didn't show up with Naadam summer festival tomorrow, so my last hour was actually free, which was a bit bathetic. I put the freedom to good use. My remaining days in Mongolia will now be spent busy relaxing if that makes sense, since I have much to do, but all of it is pleasant.

The new seven wonders or are they?

Well, to the new Seven wonders. I was a little heartened when UNESCO criticised the initiative by the Swiss businessmen saying it would do nothing for preservation, merely encouraging tourism; not being admitted to vote rankling a bit for me. But it fades. I was struck by the commercialisation of the website, offering me a choice of voting or voting and for two dollars getting a tatty replica of a 'wonder' of my choice. I went for the free route.
Furthermore, a list of only 20? Okay, maybe a limit has to be imposed, but where are the great medieval cathedrals beyond St. Basil's? No bridges (e.g. Golden Gate) or dams (e.g. Three Gorges)? No Forbidden City? Nothing from St. Petersburg? No modern skyscrapers? Okay, so under pressure from the Egyptian government the pyramids were removed from the voting list and made an honourary new seventh wonder, but why not replace it with Ramesses II's rock-cut temple at Abu Simbel or the Valley of the Kings? Richard Rogers and Norman Foster have certainly put up some eye-catching structures. The list is essentially arbitrary.

However, putting this to one side, on to the meat of why I chose: Hagia Sophia, the Great Wall, the Taj Mahal, Angkor Wat, the Eiffel Tower, the Kremlin/Red Square/St. Basil combo and Neuschwanstein Castle. A wonder is a feat of prodigious construction and craftsmanship effort. I didn't go for Stonehenge since a group of Welsh blokes heaving around a few monoliths doesn't really compare to the Great Pyramid at Giza and its fellow pyramids. So, the Welsh druids had a knowledge of astronomy that enabled them to find the right spot to engage the summer solstice, but the Egyptians were a bit handy themselves, the three pyramids said to represent the alignment of Orion's Belt.
The same goes for the Easter Island Statues. That their construction led to deforestation to provide log rollers and the subsequent fall of the civilisation counts heavily against them.

I had no time for the Acropolis for although a masterpiece of the ancient world (and tragically abused since then), it didn't make the original seven wonders cut (on all the lists) and if not good enough in those times, then not now either, unless the new seven wonders are meant to be a sort-of second tier of wonders. Built in 450 B. C., the original compilers of the seven wonders knew plenty about it being Greek themselves and they obviously thought it not worthy of inclusion.

The original seven wonders were monuments, not cities (a clear factor) so I discounted Petra, Kyoto and Timbuktu (though the latter intrigued me). Macchu Picchu is also technically a city. Though a fascinating architectural site, it is mostly ruins which detracts from its wonder status. Anyway, Peruvians and their forebears are used to building at high altitude. I did not go for the Colosseum (AKA the Flavian Amphitheatre) because it could only seat 30,000-40,000 whereas the Circus Maximus built earlier could squeeze in 150,000. The Sydney Opera House is a deservedly famous building, but just looking quirky cannot support wonder status.

I liked the Statue of Liberty as a modern Colossus, but she was knocked up so easily after being shipped across the Atlantic like so much mechano and is not really a substantial structure in the age of mass industrialisation and construction. What the Rhodians did was far more impressive for their time.
Sadly, the Rhodians' hearts were broken when an earthquake snapped the Colossus at its ankles and toppled it into the harbour of the town it built at. A soothsayer advised them not to re-erect it, wisely since in a region prone to large tremors, the next time it might fall on the town, instead of into the sea.
Christ the Redeemer probably is closest to the Colossus in that it welcomes people into Rio de Janeiro, a bustling port, and is a symbol of religious devotion (the original Colossus was that of Apollo; around the later Roman Empire, many colossuses of emperors were established). It fits nicely but if this, why not the Angel of the North, which actually is made of bronze? The ancient compilers did not go "pyramids, tick, colossus, tick," and neither should we. No cities, otherwise Athens and Alexandria would have been bigged up, but the new seven wonders should stand out on their own merits; if they approximate to the function of an ancient wonder so much the better, but they must qualify in their own right.
The same with Chichen Itza, a maginficient pyramid, much like in Egypt (and some radical historians say inspired by the latter) but not only does have to beat off the competition, but could you vote for something that was used for blood sacrifice? I thought about voting for the Alhambra Palace in spain, but I honestly did not know enough about it and so could not commit myself to it. If one day I saw it, I might be disappointed and not think it a wonder.

So to my choices. Remember, prodigious construction and craftsmanship. Hagia Sophia was always going to be for me. My love of the Oriental mystique of the Byzantine Empire and that at the time of its construction in the 530s A.D. it was the greatest church in Christendom, stands the Church of Holy Wisdom in good stead.
Angkor Wat is an amazing temple complex reflecting the medieval Cambodian/Buddhist view of the cosmos. It never ceases to fascinate.
The Great Wall is prominent not just for its length but how it overcame unforgiving, undulating terrain, something one can only appreciate by standing on it, and this ranks it highly. This is a structure that has evolved over 2,500 years. The most visible parts are of the Ming era and the task was gruelling since countless workers died on constructing it and were built into the wall - the grandest of all tombs. I am also happy to include it, for as a bonus, it reflects one of the original wonders of the world - the Great Wall of Babylon, Ishtar Gate and all (displaced by a later compiler to include the Pharos or Lighthouse of Alexandria, which had not been built at the time of the first list).
Next, with the Eiffel Tower, this is a far more impressive monument than the Statue of Liberty. Incredibly, it was only meant to be a temporary building, to be taken down once the 100th anniversary celebrations of the 1789 French Revolution were over. It survived again in 1914 when explosive charges were laid to blow it up were the Germans to take Paris. It might have been dwarfed had British plans to build a tower three times taller at Wembley come to fruition, though bankruptcy of the company prevailed after only the first stage had been built and Wembley Stadium was built instead. La Tour Eiffel is one of the pre-eminent structures of the industrial and any age.
Then we come to the Taj Mahal, a building and gardens that are achingly beautiful. Built for a Mughal emperor as a tomb to honour his dead wife, it reflects the Mausoleum of Mausollus, but stands on its own greatness and is something that is instantly recognised across the world, even without the Indian media campaign to enure its inclusion in the new list. Well worth wonder status.
The last two I was not so sure about, but by a process of elimination, they stood out. Neuschwanstein Castle, the fairytale fort surrounded by dense forest and crystal lakes, certainly arrests the eye. It is the product of whimsical genius. Sadly, Prince Ludwig II of Bavaria, whose brainchild this was, barely got to live in it. The Kremlin/Red Square/ St. Basil complex is a lot smaller in real life than one imagines it, as I can testify to, but it is the jewel of Moscow, full of interest with stunning architectural vistas abounding.

The popular vote went to: the Great Wall, the Taj Mahal, the Colosseum, Petra, Christ the Redeemer, Chichen Itza and Macchu Picchu. Not all my choices as in the reasons given above, but I'm sure people had their own motivations.
And so after a Wonders analysis, I end a blog that is a mini Wonder in itself.

Wondrous

Well, today is the announcement of the new seven wonders of the world. I'll just list my choices from the severely limited options available (only 20 monuments could be chosen) and explain later: Hagia Sophia, Great Wall, Taj Mahal, Angkor Wat, Eiffel Tower, Neuschwanstein Castle and the Kremnlin/Red Square/St. Basil's.
I would have voted but despite getting to the second stage where they said I should check my email account, the confirmation email which would register my vote never arrived. Were these guys in Florida in 2000 (or indeed 2004 for that matter)? If one monument loses out because of a single vote, I would demand a recount. Then again, like most things in Mongolia, the Internet here isn't so reliable. Another quibble is the voting system. Electronic democracy has some way to go when all you need is an email address. Set up a multitude of accounts and watch your voting rights multiply (and some will have the inclination to do so). Moreover, the original seven wonders of the world aren't the generally accepted ancient seven we have today, so to trumpet these new seven wonders as set in stone is not true to the fluid nature of the Greeks' ranking system. Moreover, it isn't a list of brilliant buildings, but a popularity contest. All fine and good in the 21st century, but it would have been more persuasive had been compiled from thousands of academics and experts in the fields of archaeology and architecture. So are these the definitive new seven wonders of the world. Despite all the fanfare, it's hard to agree that they are.
On another note, Altaa is back from the countryside and took her TOEFL exam today. Results in two weeks. Her brother is also back. He went to the Gobi but didn't take any sun cream so his face and arms are deep brown while his legs now look comparably milk white. An interesting contrast. It was his first tour trip and he enjoyed it. Naadam is soon and Altaa has some work lined up to keep herself occupied. Went to a barbecue party last night. Yes, you guessed it, it pelted down with rain though it's effect was limited since we were on the fourth floor and the balcony, the only exposed part, was covered.

Ulaanbaatar happenings

A student in one of my teaching classes looks the spitting image of Jennifer Anniston, the long, willowly body, the hair (late style) and the idealised, opaque face reminiscent of the statuary of the early Roman Imperial era. However, unlike Jennifer Anniston, I'll reckon her light brown skin hue is what nature intended. I gave that class an interesting tongue-twister to repeat - "I'm not the fig plucker...." I did not tell them its alternative meaning and I made sure they did not make a mistake.
Also yesterday something amusing occurred. Ducking and diving through the traffic is commonplace for me - the Mongolian driving is hazardous, that trying to do it straight is equally dangerous, so I look for gaps in the traffic matrix and go into them and so get to the other side. Yet on doing so yesterday while crossing a comparatively small road, upon reaching the other side I heard "Oh my [taking the Lord's name in vain]. Did you just see that," exclaimed by a young American woman to her male companion. They were waiting patiently by the kerb to cross. Maybe they think it's okay for Mongolians to do that, but when seeing a fellow westerner do it they may feel compelled to do the same. Tourists, ey?
Here in Mongolia, BBC World TV gets its transmission pulled for no fathomable reason at 9pm every night (radio World Service is unaffected). That means I come home late at night after work and tend to survive on Deutsche Welle TV which has English programmes and the Australia Channel, both of which broadcast non-stop. But on the rare occasions that I'm back early enough, the BBC sometimes, just sometimes, covers north Asia on its weather report and I am gratified to see they spell Ulaanbaatar the way it should be spelt.

Going back so soon?

Over the past month or so, I've got rather used to living in Mongolia to the point where in some ways I feel sad about going back to Britain in three weeks. Okay there are the occasional power cuts and the more frequent hot water outages in the home and there are many things that could be done better in Mongolia, but in addition to being home for more than five months now, I've got a steady job in teaching that keeps me financially stable and you can get by in Mongolia on comparatively little. There are certain people I miss - friends and family - but there's always email. The arrival of summer must also be working on my mind making me more happy with my circumstances.
On Saturday, there was a Tsam religious mask dance in the central square which involved a lot of shamanism and a bit of Buddhism. The commentary was - naturally and correctly - in Mongolian so I watched the multi-coloured robe-fluttering choreography, which was entertaining for the first ten minutes at least. It had something related to the last Tsam dance, seventy years ago in Mongolia in 1937 before the Mongolian communist authorities cracked down shortly after. I'm sure it's been performed since 1990 though. It may have been performed on that day in different cities as well since there was a big board mentioning Paris and New York. The title was Khuree Tsam 108, Khuree being the old name for Ulaanbaatar, Tsam being the type of dance and 108 being the Buddhist holy number. There were many mask of mythical creatures such as dragons, plus Buddhist deities and natural animals such as scary looking deers. Also, there were some bulbous-headed monk boys in attendance and a wizened, white-bearded man (apparently an ancient Mongolian deity) who liked going around hugging other mask wearers.
Today, there was a sudden cloudburst of about fifteen minutes with the rain so hard it set off car alarms. Coming home had a bit of extra spice today as the driver of the bus I was in decided to have a racing duel with another bus on a packed main road, horns ablaze at each other. Pity the car drivers in front of them. The impromptu contest ended when they pulled into the next bus stop and were separated by a neutral bus, the other going in front of it, us behind. This rivalry had limits. I also heard on the bus over the radio an advert for Engram, my teaching centre, not that I understood it bar the name. Once home, I observed myself becoming a bit more skeletal and so decided to branch out beyond pasta and ketchup, making some dumpling soup, with potatoes, onion, garlic and spices with a some spicy juice added. A small triumph for me in the absence of Altaa.