The apartment
Life in our apartment, complete with pillars
1 – The heating is permanently on and cannot be turned off. The landlord said that it would turn off after the first week, BUT IT HAS KEPT ON GOING. The routine is now to rush in through the door, and immediately open all the windows before we die of heatstroke.
2 – The static build up on the front door could power a light bulb and we take it in turns to get electrocuted opening the door, so that one of us doesn’t get an arrhythmia
3 – We also have electric beds. But not in the normal way. Apparently you can be zapped by non-metallic objects, who knew?!
4 – After experiencing a number of nasty electric shocks, all electric gadgets are kept on the wooden floor for fire safety reasons!
5 – There are two light switches in the bathroom. One works perfectly. The other is a deathtrap with a scrap of tissue paper covering a live wire. Alex got a nasty electric shock off it the first day and none of us have touched it since
6 – Basically, you can get an electric shock off anything. ANYTHING. Touch nothing without being convinced you need to use it, and bracing yourself for the shock. The absence of an electrical current/metal is no protection.
7 – Our toaster was a catapult in its past life, and it is as effective at toasting as putting the bread on the windowsill.
8 – The living room is very seventies, with great blocky, squashy armchairs and sofa. Alex’s bedroom is weird 60’s style fluffy seats. One is a foldout bed that doesn’t fold out. Alex is therefore sleeping on the floor using a combination of blankets, cushions and my extreme environments therm-a-rest. Chivalry isn’t dead.
9 – We have a cushioned toilet seat. It is really weird.
10 – The apartment and stairwell permanently smell of gas. So far, nothing has exploded, despite regular static discharges, so it’s probably fiiiiiiine.
11 – The light switches are all in odd places. It is Russian roulette as to what will light up. It needn’t be the same thing twice. Who knows!
12 – The bathroom lock is slowly chiselling its own path through the door frame. Both Emily and Alex have been caught out, with awkward consequences.
13 – The workmen downstairs practice totally normal working hours, between 9pm and 2am
The currency
The Mongolian Tugrik weighs in at a flimsy 3000MNT to the Pound. There are no coins, just notes.
For example, a meal out in a medium cost Mongolian restaurant is about 3-4000 Tugriks per person, so about £1.30 for a full meal. Based on this, it is cheaper to eat out in the evenings than cook regularly ourselves. Fine by us!
Mongolian Food
Mutton features heavily, as do thick noodles. There are rich, greasy soups with mutton, noodles, and veg mixed in. Lumps of fat bob about, giving extra flavour. There are big sizzling plates of noodles, veg, and… mutton.
There are dense doughy dumplings to dip in your soups or eat plain and there are sides of coleslaw, kimchi or salads.
So, on the one hand, Mongolian food can get a little same-y if you’ve eaten mutton and noodles too many times in a row but equally you can find some really great dishes. The hospital canteen is one of our local faves!
Buses
Are cheap! Each ride costs 15p. There are no seat belts, which is a bit scary given the news from our friends on elective in Africa, and they are often completely stuffed with people, standing and sitting. City traffic has gone beyond bonkers and entered the realms of total carnage.
So we just hold on tight, try to avoid the drunk men (at midday!!!) and pickpockets, and swing from suspended hand holds as the driver breaks erratically. It’s not great, but the place is so congested that we barely make it over 10 miles an hour. We haven’t seen any accidents above bumps to bodywork, which is reassuring.
The Mongolia Ambulance Project 