a hunk of beef and us, originally uploaded by Wanderings.
Because my time in Sukhbaatar corresponded with the New Year celebrations, I was invited to join my friends as they made the rounds visiting their Mongolian friends. Tsagaan Sar ("White Month") reminded me a lot of Thanksgiving or Christmas in the States: it's a time when family - immediate and extended - comes together for parties and rituals. Mongolians spend 2 or 3 days visiting one another in their homes, sharing traditional meals, greeting one another in the ceremony of the New Year, and (in our case) inviting their close foreigner friends to join in on the fun.
The weeks leading up to Tsagaan Sar were nuts -- the stores were full of people stocking up on candy and special breads and meat for the celebrations. At home, Mongolian moms were putting the whole family to work making hundreds of bodz (a Mongolian dumpling) in anticipation of the many guests and relatives who would come calling. (My language teacher's family made 1000 bodz a couple weekends before Tsagaan Sar, which was fewer than normal.) The Mongolians hope for cold temperatures, as most of these bodz will be stored outside until the New Year. In UB, some enterprising Mongols set up gers anywhere there was room and brought in large stoves to prepare meat for the apartment-dwelling Mongolians who needed an extra hand and were willing to pay someone else to take care of this essential part of the holiday meal.
Our Tsagaan Sar was spent in the homes of three sisters. We started at the oldest's home, then went to the youngest's, and finally ended up at the middle sister's apartment. (I had to seek refuge at a teammates apartment mid-way through the day because of some stomach problems and didn't make it to the final stop. The Mongolian New Year cuisine is not kind on a Westerner's stomach.) Our first stop was the most traditional -- there were greetings with prayer scarves, obligatory sniffs of snuff, shots of vodka (fortunately, we were only obliged to take one), slices of beef and an excess of bodz, as well as salted milk tea, homemade juice (that smelled strongly of mutton), candy, and boortzog (Mongolian unsweetened doughnuts). We brought gifts for each of the hostesses and upon leaving were presented with small gifts* to take with us.
Most Mongolians with foreigner friends will invite them over at specific times, whereas the Mongolians will just drop in on one another just about any time through the three days of celebrations. There were many Mongolian families on the road last Thursday on their way to visit relatives in distant towns before the holiday was over and they had to return to work.
It was fun to be a part of the celebrations, but as I sat there next to my friends listening to the conversations in Mongolian going on around us, I found myself wishing that I knew a bit more about this culture and a lot more of this language. There is so much I don't understand.
*Mongolians are pros at re-gifting. Many of the gifts they receive at Tsagaan Sar will be packed away in their homes until the next Tsagaan Sar, when they will be brought out again and regifted to someone else (or perhaps even the same person who gave it to them).
The weeks leading up to Tsagaan Sar were nuts -- the stores were full of people stocking up on candy and special breads and meat for the celebrations. At home, Mongolian moms were putting the whole family to work making hundreds of bodz (a Mongolian dumpling) in anticipation of the many guests and relatives who would come calling. (My language teacher's family made 1000 bodz a couple weekends before Tsagaan Sar, which was fewer than normal.) The Mongolians hope for cold temperatures, as most of these bodz will be stored outside until the New Year. In UB, some enterprising Mongols set up gers anywhere there was room and brought in large stoves to prepare meat for the apartment-dwelling Mongolians who needed an extra hand and were willing to pay someone else to take care of this essential part of the holiday meal.
Our Tsagaan Sar was spent in the homes of three sisters. We started at the oldest's home, then went to the youngest's, and finally ended up at the middle sister's apartment. (I had to seek refuge at a teammates apartment mid-way through the day because of some stomach problems and didn't make it to the final stop. The Mongolian New Year cuisine is not kind on a Westerner's stomach.) Our first stop was the most traditional -- there were greetings with prayer scarves, obligatory sniffs of snuff, shots of vodka (fortunately, we were only obliged to take one), slices of beef and an excess of bodz, as well as salted milk tea, homemade juice (that smelled strongly of mutton), candy, and boortzog (Mongolian unsweetened doughnuts). We brought gifts for each of the hostesses and upon leaving were presented with small gifts* to take with us.
Most Mongolians with foreigner friends will invite them over at specific times, whereas the Mongolians will just drop in on one another just about any time through the three days of celebrations. There were many Mongolian families on the road last Thursday on their way to visit relatives in distant towns before the holiday was over and they had to return to work.
It was fun to be a part of the celebrations, but as I sat there next to my friends listening to the conversations in Mongolian going on around us, I found myself wishing that I knew a bit more about this culture and a lot more of this language. There is so much I don't understand.
*Mongolians are pros at re-gifting. Many of the gifts they receive at Tsagaan Sar will be packed away in their homes until the next Tsagaan Sar, when they will be brought out again and regifted to someone else (or perhaps even the same person who gave it to them).
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