Eve of the Festival

Ulaan Baatar is full of activities with Naadam just three days away. We've rented an apartment in a residential area away from the city center. There aren't many foreigners here, and it gives us the sense that we are in the middle of Ulaan Baatar's urban life. Outside the steps of our apartment is a black market crowded with locals shopping for festival food.

Naadam is a yearly festival dating back to ancient times and celebrates the Three Manly Arts of wrestling, horse racing and archery. It is an important national holiday for the Mongolians and many of them take the week off to travel home to the county side, which they have a deep connection with.

On the eve of Naadam, as I cooled off outside the buildings front door, a young boy dashes out of our building with money in hand. Moments later he hurries back with two bags of pasta and other ingredients. It reminds me of my childhood in Japan when I would run out to buy groceries for my family.

The next thing I witnessed was a car pulling into the dark parking lot. A middle-aged woman got out with many large shopping bags filled with food. To my surprise, her husband then pulled a live goat from the backseat. With their neighbors' help they dragged the poor animal to their apartment upstairs. I never imagined that an apartment could become a slaughterhouse. They would have fresh meat for their Naadam meal.

Over the course of the long holiday weekend, the building began to fill with a terrible stench. We finally realized that the goat's corpse had been disposed of in the buildings communal garbage shoot. This was the source of smell that overwhelmed our apartment.

Mongolians consume a massive amount of meat, mainly from goats, sheep, horses, and cows. There is always a strong, distinctive smell of animal flesh around the nearby market. One morning, a horse head, with its' cheek muscles shaved off, smiled at me from the back of an old Russian-made wagon. It's quite normal to see large bones abandoned on the sidewalks, or several goat heads under tables at the open-air market. Various intestines, livers, and other internals are displayed on tables and testicle sacks serve as a natural bag for other meat. The shopkeeper tries, without success, to keep the flies at bay. To our sense, these are rather gruesome sights, however, the locals select and purchase these products while laughing and gossiping together.

Every culture has something that other cultures think different or strange. Their customs and practices are normal to them and shouldn't be viewed by other standards. For example, in Japan, the freshness of fish is measured by how many seconds it takes to kill and serve the fish as sashimi, with its' moving tail proof of this swiftness.

In America,, however, we are removed from the slaughter house, and buy our food already neatly cut and packaged on Styrofoam. I think the Mongolian's might think this a strange way to buy their favorite food.

In the end, we have our own thoughts and opinions, however, we try hard not to cast judgments on our observations. We would be lying if we said that the sights and smells that we are unaccustomed to don't challenge and turn our stomachs on a daily basis. At the same time, we are learning to appreciate these differences.