July 8. UB, Chinggis Khaan airport

There was a man who hung around the center of town selling postcards. He had a piece of paper supposedly explaining his sad story that his ger had burned down and his wife and 4 children were killed. Of course everyone knew it was all a lie, but I bought a postcard anyway. He said it was his birthday (ha!). I saw him several days in a row and it was always his birthday. So, I'm sitting here in the airport and guess what birthday boy shows up?

Friday July 8

And I'm off....or will be in a few hours. The spa yesterday was incredible, as I knew it would be. I was scrubbed for half an hour. It was amazing, yet disgusting to see the dirt that was scrubbed off me. Then off to the massage for an hour. My original plans for a Thai massage were nixed by the masseuse who apparently found too much tension or stiffness in my right shoulder. I had been trying my best to keep my embarrassing groans, moans and grunts to myself, but apparently my best wasn't good enough. So she changed the massage to another kind and she kept pummeling me. Marta and I had dinner after the spa and said goodbye. Bedtime and then the rush to get organized this morning and get out the door. My taxi should be here in about 15 minutes, so I'm on schedule. After a very long day I'll be home tomorrow. Can't wait!

Thursday, July 7. Happy Birthday, Peter!

After yesterday's adventure at the accountant's office I have little to add except to wish a very happy birthday to Peter. Can't quite believe he's 28 today. How is that possible? Today Marta and I have plans to go to the Gobi Hotel spa and get scrubbed and massaged into oblivion. Can't wait. Haly is also going to stop by to say goodbye, which will be hard. Then one last dinner with Marta and it's off to the airport for an 11:50 am flight to Beijing tomorrow. I don't know when I'll be back on the blog, but I'll do my best.

Wednesday, July 6 UB

Now that my saga has ended, I will try to fill in the story of trying to get paid by the university. I cannot give a blow-by-blow account of what happened, but I will hit all the high (and low) spots and fill in the colorful details as I proceed. The story begins approximately 1 month after I arrived. I received word from SDC (Swiss Development Cooperative), the source of my funding, that they had transferred money to the school's bank account and that I could receive part of the money due me. I went to the accountant's office with Haly and was told to sign a document. I refused, saying that I didn't understand the figures or the total that appeared there, and I wasn't going to sign anything until I understood it. This prompted a visit the next day from someone at SDC (Ganchimeg), who worked through the calculations with me. In the course of that explanation, I discovered that 1) they were trying to charge me a service fee for the bank transfer; 2) I was being charged a "project fee"; 3) I was being charged a currency exchange fee and 4) the amount that was being withheld from the first payment I was to receive was subtracted from the amount of the first payment. (In other words, the total had been split into 2 payments and the amount of the 2nd payment was subtracted from the first again, not from the total). I said that I felt as though I was being charged for the privilege of being paid. At this point, SDC agreed to pay all related charges, so I agreed to the totals we arrived at. We went back to the accountant the next day I was told I needed to have a bank card. Of course I have an American bank card, but that's not what she meant. I needed a Mongolian bank card. Haly offered to let me use her card and withdraw my money from it, but no one could tell me 1) how much I could withdraw at one time, or 2) what the ATM charge would be for each withdrawal. So I rejected that idea. I asked about receiving cash from the school, and was told there was a 300,000 T daily limit for cash. Could they increase the amount? No, there was a rule. Could I receive 300,000 T a day until I had received all my money? No, there was a rule. (Inside I'm murmuring to myself that rules were made to be broken.)

We returned the next day to find that the accountant was out because her child was ill and would be out the rest of the week. So, I wait until Monday. I can't remember what happened Monday, but when we went back Tuesday, her child was sick again. At this point, the frustration and lack of sensible rules and procedures got to me and I started to cry. Suddenly everything that I had been told was not possible became possible. Someone came over to the school from some unknown office and went with me and Haly to the bank and withdrew some money and I was paid in cash on the spot.

Fast forward to 2 weeks ago: I asked the departmental director about the end of the term, what to do about my dorm room, etc., and how I would be paid the last installment of my money. She said I needed to write a report for SDC and that I would be paid June 29 or 30th. I wrote my report and emailed it to her and on the 29th, I went to her office. I was told she was out of town. When would she be back? Oh, maybe tomorrow, maybe not. Could someone call her and find out? Her phone was turned off. So, I came back the next day - same story. July 1st, still no director. Tsegii and I went to see the accountant and she said that I had received all my money. I said that I hadn't and showed her the place on my receipt that clearly said "first installment". If there's a first, then there MUST be at least a second, right? I called Ganchimeg and reported the situation and she said she would talk to the school on Monday. Tsegii and I had retreated from the office of the accountant and were sitting in the hallway making these phonecalls when the accountant came out of her office, locked the door and left. It was 4 o'clock and the school offices were still open, but the accountant left and didn't say a word to Tsegii or me. Just left. She knew we were still trying to get this business settled and get an answer for her that was other than "you've received all your money" and she just walked out. Marta and I depart for Darkhan. When I returned to UB I emailed Ganchimeg to find out what she had accomplished and where I might find my money. At this point I'm just hoping that SHE has it and I can get it from the Swiss, but no. I have to talk to the director's secretary. So, this morning Haly and I went to the accountant's office and presented my email from Ganchimeg that assures me that SDC has made the transfer and that tells me the amount of the payment. We show it to the accountant but she has a different total in mind. I call Ganchimeg and ask for an explanation of the difference between what she said and what the accountant says. Turns out her email was wrong and the accountant was, too, and the real amount is between the two. I agree, but we are told we need to have a document signed by the director, but she is on vacation! I am flabbergasted at this news. What to do? The director will come to school at 2pm. I have 2 days until I leave and I don't want to sit around the school waiting for her to sign something that she should have taken care of weeks ago. So, they decide to send someone to the director's home with the document and get her signature. We sit and wait. Two hours later the person with the document returns and then Haly and I and the person from the first installment go to the bank where I get my money in cash. So, in spite of her having told me when she would pay me, the director went on vacation (and probably knew all along she would be on vacation) and made no provisions for me. Amazing!

The End.

Back in UB

Arrived back in UB this afternoon. Only 2 more days before I fly home! Our trip to the monastery yesterday was wonderful. The monastery was built from 1727-1737 and was only partially damaged by the Soviets and it is beautiful. We hired a driver to take us there (3 hours by car, the last 35 km on a dirt road). Saw dozens of marmots - very cute, a cross between prairie dogs, meerkats and chipmunks. They build their holes near the road, so we'd see one scamper across the dirt and disappear down a hole less than 12" from the side of the track. Of course, the roads keep getting wider as one track gets rockier as the dirt is worn down to the boulders underneath, or the gullies make driving too difficult, so maybe the marmots were there first and the road has come to meet them. I was fascinated to see that the poles carrying electricity to these remote villages and settlements still have glass insulators on them. The poles themselves, although made from trees, stop about a meter above the ground and are lashed to a concrete post coming out of the ground. This is because of the severe freezing half of the year. At the monastery, Marta and I happened by a temple room where the monks were chanting. One of them was even throatsinging. While we we eating our lunches at a small restaurant near the monastery, it rained briefly, but we didn't think too much about it. It was a different story as we made our way back on the dirt road. There were parts of the road flooded and the driver often had to get out and walk ahead to find the best way to proceed. He had a Toyota, and not a Toyota SUV, either. It was still raining on this section of the road as we were driving. I think if we had left an hour later, we might have had trouble getting away. In some places we saw hail.

That night we went back to our favorite Texas Pub and I ordered a quesadilla. The description on the menu said "chiken cheese and vegetables", so I was surprised when it arrived and, although it was good, it didn't have any cheese on it. I usually let things like that go, but this time I decided to ask, especially because it was difficult to eat without the cheese binding all the veggies together. Pointing to the menu, I asked the waitress about the cheese and she went to the back to inquire. When she returned, she pointed with vague gestures to her torso and said that that was the chicken cheese. I looked at Marta and said "So chicken cheese is chicken breast?" Marta shrugged and I said OK. I kept thinking about it, wondering how "breast" became "cheese" and decided that someone had looked in a dictionary for "chest" and had mistakenly written down "cheese" instead. We had a good laugh over that.

sunday, july 3 Darkhan

Having a great time here in Darkhan. It's a city, but much smaller than UB. We had a 7 hour train ride from UB that only cost us 16,000 T, less than $15. After we arrived and rested at our hotel for a bit, we went to a restaurant, Texas Pub, that had really good food, free WiFi, Texan decor and a continuous loop of a Backstreet Boys video, but no soundtrack. Strange. This morning we got up and walked an hour to the local market, did a little shopping and walked back to the Texas Pub for lunch. We saw a small group of camels crossing the road while we were walking back. Took a bunch of pics. We ran into a large group of Peace Corps volunteers here at the pub. There's maybe 25-30 of them. They're all in training and stationed in small towns and villages around Darkhan. They're in town for the weekend for a workshop and for rabies shots. What a combo. The pub really has a good thing going: good western food and free internet. What a magnet to draw people like us and the Peace Corps. Darkhan seems to be in better shape than UB. The roads are nicer, the sidewalks are cleaner and there's a nice breeze blowing the heat away. Our hotel is really nice, too, and they have real foam pillows! Not buckwheat grain pillows! Hot clear (not orange) water! What luxuries.
This afternoon we will try to make arrangements for our trip to the monastery.

Thursday, June 30, 12:05 pm

Marta moved into my room this morning. She needed to move out of her guesthouse room and since we are taking off together on Saturday and I have an extra bed, it made great sense. We are busy making plans for the weekend. Not much else to report. I read a lot last night and was lazy getting up this morning since I had to be in my room to meet Marta at 11 am. I usually leave for school between 9 and 10.