The Awkwardest Show on Earth

The rest of the school year has gone by more quickly than this week.  Seriously.  I don't know if it's because finals have robbed me of my favorite students or what, but this week couldn't go by any slower.  And at its end?  A graduation that left me utterly cold.  It was a very well-done affair, and went off without a hitch, but I didn't feel connected to it at all.  I taught half the graduates over the last two years, but whether at the actual ceremony or at the dinner, none of them actually had anything to say to me.  A different group of graduates - affectionately known by some of their teachers as "the Shrews" - was warmer than that.  But this was probably my fault - I wasn't on the graduation committee, and it's possible that they felt that all of the hard work I did for the art program this year wasn't for them.  Whatever the case may be, it's over, and in less than two weeks I'll be flying off to Lake Khuvsgul, from whence I will trek out into the Mongolian hinterlands in search of the Tsataan - an ethnic group of reindeer herders living in the taiga on the Russian border.  So roll on, summer.

I've been to the circus in UB six times now, and every show's been different.  But whether it's the presence of animals, the caliber of performers, or the narrative quality of the show (Fire Legend is still my favorite!), there are acts in common.  Contortionism.  Acrobatics.  Clowns.  The usual.  Well, the Little Stars' Miracle circus we saw last week was truly unique.  It was a Russian circus (a fact that Engrish mourned when she figured it out at the show, because she is supposed to be boycotting all things Russian) and all the performers are midgets.  Or, as Blondie likes to call them, "small friends."  And let me tell you, our driver, Enkhaa, got a big laugh out of imagining us two Amazons at a midget circus.

GAME OF THRONES SPOILER ALERT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  In the fifth book, Tyrion gets captured and sold into slavery as a dwarf performer.  If the jousting midgets at his wedding made you uncomfortable, you can probably only imagine how humiliating his life as a performer must have been.  I cringed while I was reading it.  I probably should have realized than an actual dwarf performer circus would be no less awkward, but it took being in the crowd to realize it.  According to InfoMongolia, this is the world's only famous dwarf circus, and they were last here twenty years ago.  According to Engrish, Blondie, and I, these are the same performers.  They were not as...spry...as we've come to expect at the circus.

There were a lot of animal acts in this circus.  I was looking forward to the cat act, because I once saw a really good one on Youtube.  However, most of the stunts the cats did were things cats do naturally, such as weave between your legs while you are walking and climb up and down over things.  The thing that cats do NOT do naturally - jump through flaming hoops - the first cat wouldn't do.  He had a "F#(@ THIS $4!7!!!" look on his face.  The second one went ahead, but by then, the flames were almost out.

The clowns were probably the best act.  I giggled hysterically when one of them brandished a live rat at the audience, stuck it back inside his jacket, and then pulled out a fake one that he threw at the audience.  The most hysterical part though was when they stole Blondie's purse.  They'd done a disappearing act where one clown waved the blue curtain while the other one made balloons "disappear" into his pants.  He then came around the audience to give the balloons away...and stopped in front of Blondie (okay, he actually gave me the eye, but apparently he decided that my backpack was too much trouble).  He gave her his - as Blondie dubbed it, "clown crotch balloon," then snatched her purse and ran back into the ring, where he repeated the trick with her purse.  She may have been a little traumatized, mostly because she knew she couldn't throw her fake leather Target purse into the wash.

And then there was the act that traumatized me - midget belly dancers.  It was a little bit creepy - there was a bit of an ick factor because one of the male performers was wearing a turban and sitting there watching them before putting one of them in a box and sticking swords into her.  It also wasn't very good.  Belly dance no matter what your size is, and perform no matter what your talent may be, but if you're gonna take your show on the road, improve it.  I realize they're circus performers, not professional dancers, but it kind of bothered me that they put on cheap costumes and just shimmied.  Give me something that will dazzle me.

Just like last year's circus for children's day, this year's finale ended with bears.  Blondie and Engrish were a little concerned about our front row seats, envisioning the bears coming past and deciding that some plump, juicy white meat sounded nicer than the snacks that their trainers were handing out, but this didn't happen.  Instead we got to see bears riding bikes.  Bears playing basketball.  Bears proving they are smarter than your kids (yeah - they are).  And...yeah.  This happened.  Bears who get excited about their jobs.  'Nuff said.

I won't say that this was the most surreal night of my life, because I've seen some crazy shit, man, but it's up there.  I think the absolute normalcy that it was presented with is what made it so bizarre.  If they'd played up the weirdness, it wouldn't have been so awkward.  Maybe I'm a terrible person for wanting them to take what they are and run with it, but hell, I want everyone to take what they are and run with it, make it work for them, so I suppose that's not too discriminatory.  At any rate, it was an experience, and one that got a big reaction out of my students when I mentioned it the next day.

Grub Club: Silk Road

I've been in love with the idea of the Silk Road since I fell in love with Led Zepplin's song, "Kashmir," which is about an epic journey along the medieval trade route.  One day, I hope to find a man crazy enough to think that traveling it across Central Asia, starting in Xinjiang province is a good idea; if I do, I'm going to marry him!  Given all that, the fact that there's a restaurant in town called Silk Road which has been intriguing me basically since we founded Grub Club should come as no surprise, although the fact that until Wednesday night I still hadn't been there might.

I will be forever grateful to Geek for finally letting me scratch this culinary itch.  (WHY hadn't I ever gone?  Too many other good things to eat, and the fear that it wouldn't be as amazing as I was hoping).  I had envisioned a restaurant that had dishes from all over Central Asia and China.  I had seen peeks of maps and photos of China on my way past it up the stairs to Veranda, so I didn't think I was too far off.  However, I was wrong.  Mostly, their menu was uninspiring.  There were some nice salads, and I tried their "Caesar," which really had nothing to do with a Caesar, but wasn't bad, for all that.

Squeaker went for a chicken dish which was beautifully presented, but lacking the richness of flavors I was imagining.  Geek and Engrish went for the chicken tacos, which were probably the best thing on the menu.  I took a nibble of the meat, which earned me a reproving glare from Geek, who still hasn't forgiven me for eating her tacos at The Grill Place.

One part of their menu that did seem to sit with their name was the pasta.  I had the spaghetti carbonara, which had a Cindy Lou Who breadstick sticking out of it.  I don't like spaghetti, really, but they didn't have other pasta choices, and if I didn't like the pasta itself, the carbonara was pretty tasty.  Silk Road is next to the Choijin Lama temple.  Go right at Joy Massage on Chinggis Avenue and take your next right; it's right there.  And you should stop in and buy a bag of those yummy caramel bon-bon Russian chocolate things at the shop you pass on the way, because they're in and they're to die for, although for once I actually passed on them, because I'm being good these days.

On a different but related note, a few weeks back I told you that Sho was apparently closed.  Well, today during my Sunday school lesson I get a message from Engrish telling me that not only have they reopened under new management, but they've got a 25% off promotion running today.  I'm probably going to a special kind of Mormon hell for selling my soul for sushi, but that was what I was supposed to do on my birthday (a generally all-around sucky day, except for a very long talk with a friend from my Korea days and a short one with my Dark Lord and Master), so I declared this my unbirthday and met Engrish there for a late lunch.  After devouring four rolls between the two of us, we decided some dessert crepes across the street at Triskell were called for, and since she was going to go get tickets for the Ice Circus for next week, I decided I'd walk with her.  We passed the post office, which had an intriguing banner on it, that she translated as a one-off performance at the circus today by my FAVORITE performer, which we decided we'd go to, and it was probably the best show I've seen there so far.  It was really interpretive, and seemed to be using the theme of Mongolian history, and they had Altan Urag playing for them.  They even used fire, and I'm not even referring to the hot star of the show - there were fire-eaters!  It was a fantastic afternoon....just don't tell my Sunday school class it was totally worth it.

Nosy Neighbor Night

I've been meaning to talk about the Acceptable Range of Normality for a while now.  One of the wonderful things about being an expat is the fact that this lifestyle appeals to the black sheep of the world, and while we don't always "fit in" back home, put us all together and we manage to get along pretty well.  For the most part, anyways, and that's where my hypothesis comes in.  Over the years of living overseas, I've come up with a theory I like to call the acceptable range of normality, and it goes something like this:

See, normal is a created idea.  Within any given group of personalities, there are both "boring" and "interesting" individuals, and we all fall on a continuum that ranges between "so-boring-I-want-to-chew-my-own-arm-off-because-it-would-be-less-painful-than-listening-to-you" and "when-I-say-you're-interesting-what-I-really-mean-is-that-your-quirks-are-kinda-scaring-me-and-I-think-I'll-leave-before-the-voices-in-your-head-decide-to-get-rid-of-me."  In other words, at one hand, you have walking valium, and at the other end, a walking nightmare.  The thing is that you want to have enough quirks to be interesting and endearing, but not so many that you scare small children (or adults), and the range in which you can accomplish that depends on the population you're in.

Tov Aimag vodka, erotic Mongolian painting from Geek, and Bhutanese festival mask

So in the population of expats, you've got a lot more wiggle room on the quirky side of the spectrum.  No one bats an eye if you talk about your bowel movements.  You can also have a display on top of your refrigerator like the one above, and the only thing that people will question is why you have vodka (because they know you're Mormon...and the answer is obviously that you want to collect the little bottles with the names of the provinces you've been to, and your friends are glad to drink them for you).  And although we definitely have people that fall outside the range working at our school (I won't name any names in case they find their way here at some point - if my six loyal readers want to hear stories, they know where to contact me), for the most part, we have an incredibly copacetic staff this year.

photo by the Lasagna

This is one of the reasons I decided to join the social committee this year.  I ended up planning a lot of events with my friends last year, anyways, so I figured this year I might as well do it for the school and have something to put on my resume.  As a result of some conversations that I've had with people, I ended up organizing the first (possibly annual) teachers' apartment Tour of Homes (aka, Nosy Neighbors Night).  Because it's kind of fun to visit other people's apartments and see what they've done with them.

Anyone who was interested had to provide a drink or a snack, and preferably open up their apartment, although I made this optional, since some teachers live off campus but were still interested in participating.  At the appointed hour (5 pm tonight) everyone congregated in one hallway for 15 or 20 minutes, drinking, snacking, chatting, and seeing what the participating teachers had done with their apartments.  Then we went to the next floor for about the same amount of time, moving through the building until we'd seen 13 different apartments.

also by the Lasagna - I was too busy pan-frying my flat bread to take pics.

It went over really well, even if I say so myself!  We had really good participation, and not only was it cool to see other apartments and show off your own, it was great to have a chance to socialize with teachers from across the school (nearly all of whom fall within the acceptable range of normality - phew!).  Now that we're in two different buildings, the secondary and primary teachers don't mingle as much, and activities like this give everyone a chance to get together.

That's not to say it was perfect.  There were a lot (and I mean a LOT) of desserts being served.  If we do this again next year, Engrish suggested assigning each floor a dish - salad, soup, dip, dessert, etc.  I am obviously not the most organized person in the world (I keep trying to tell people that), and I felt like I kept having to send out additional emails with information I'd forgotten before.  But I was really proud of my first attempt at organizing a school-wide social event, and happy that nobody seemed to notice the fact that I hadn't vacuumed my carpet or scrubbed my kitchen floors (which desperately needed it).

Also this weekend: another circus in UB.  The last circus I went to had me questioning if I was becoming jaded, circus-wise.  I'd seen SO many great performances in the early part of the year, and things were starting to feel passé.  I had to wonder how different this circus would be, but that didn't stop me from going.  It was originally slated to be performed at Bayangol Restaurant, with dinner and drinks served with your showgirls...yes, I said showgirls.  How different could a circus be?  This wasn't any old circus - it was the Cabaret circus, with international acts from a number of countries, including some showgirls.  I felt like the overall tone was a little more mature, but that didn't stop people from bringing their kids (once it had been moved from the Bayangol to the State Circus and the price went from 150,000 tugrugs to 20,000), including some students which I saw, and more which probably saw me, since the magician pulled me and Squeaker up to help with his act.  Was it different? Did we enjoy it???  Hell yeah.  For starters, there were a HELL of a lot more male acts in this circus, my personal favorite being the guy in the clip above.  The only female contortionist they had was a black American girl with gorgeous curves, and what she did amazed even the Mongolians.  I want you to think about that statement for a second.  This is a country where contortionism is one of their major performing arts, but what this girl did was in a different league.  She bent herself into pretzels, and then twisted them around.  It was incredible.  Squeaker's reaction - particularly to a couple of muscle-bound men who were lifting each other while only wearing tight pants - guaranteed we'll be catching the next circus that comes into town.

Spectacular, Spectacular!

Acrobats on the flying trapeze = not passé

"...no words in our vernacular,
can describe this great event,
you'll be dumb with wonderment."

Acrobats, contortionists, even dancing bears...tonight's performance at the state circus could not HELP but remind me of Moulin Rouge, one of my very favorite movies.  I didn't begin the night in a stellar mood.  I am becoming jaded, I think.  The Chinese acrobatic thing where they haul themselves up with strips of silk has become passé.  The guy who did the balancing act with the big pot at Shanghai Circus World had a bigger pot, and everyone knows that size DOES matter.  At least when it comes to pot balancing acts.  And beyond all that, I paid for the freaking VIP seats, but they are NOT the front ones.  They are big and cushy and the one I was sitting on was not broken (unlike the one I sat in for the international circus, but behind the front three rows.  I am ALL about the front row, rock fans.

I've been to the circus three times now in as many months.  Why did I go again, especially admitting the fact that I'm becoming bored with some of it?  This circus was special.  It wasn't the trapeze artists, which were, admittedly NOT passé.  It wasn't the jazzy contortion number (actually, their jumpsuit costumes annoyed me), or even the woman who could twirl ten hula hoops at one time (the student who did that with three hoops at SUIS' talent show a couple years back would have been eating her heart out).  I wasn't kidding about the dancing bears...this circus had animals.  Which, I guess, means it wasn't supposed to be performed in the state circus building, which is a member of the World Society for the Protection of Animals, but somehow, here it was.  There were not as many animals as were originally advertised by the UB Post, but I was most interested in seeing the bears, anyways. 

There's the usual question of animal cruelty.  Nobody really wanted to come with me, because they didn't know how they felt about that.  Should wild animals be trained?  And if they are, can you guarantee that they will be well-cared for?  The bears in the circus tonight seemed healthy, at least.  It's hard to guess at their mental state.  They did their tricks - tumbling, balancing, carrying a dog around the arena - without hesitation, and their trainers seemed affectionate toward them.  They were amazing to watch; they're beautiful creatures, and huge, and absolutely lethal looking.  They had muzzles on their mouths, but their claws were terrifyingly long.

In the end, I decided VIP seating was okay.  When I left the Hill, I decided not to bring my "big guns" (my DSLR), since it was sure to draw more attention to myself, and I hate that moment when the usher taps on your shoulder and shakes his finger at you for taking pictures.  Either the ushers didn't care that we were snapping away, or they didn't bother me because I paid for the privilege, because I did take some photos, and even decided that I would take a video.  So enjoy!