Felt in Mongolia

I think it has been stated before, it gets bloody cold in this country. The Mongolians have worked out the best ways to keep warm, from burning anything that ignites, to wrapping themselves in whatever nature provides.

We discovered that the traditional gers are made of nothing more than canvas and felt, but provide fantastic warmth and protection from the cold winds of the steppes. The felt that is wrapped around the walls of the gers is made of local wool. Traditionally, in the manufacture of this felt, horses were used to drag the bundles of felt at speed. The lengths of felt were wrapped around a stick which was dragged behind the horse, bouncing and producing the kneading action on the fabric, which helps to bind and matte up the fibres into thick felt.

The shops here sell felt in all colours and conformations, from bags, hats, scarfs and boots. You can get felt coats or key rings, jewellery or slippers.  I was keen to learn the art and create something for myself. I had heard of an artist who did workshops, and with a few friends, booked a session.

We had the bus number, photos of the destination (emailed with directions) and Google maps, we were prepared for our outing to the dusty outer suburbs of Ulaanbaatar and the studio where we would learn new skills. Maira, our teacher for the day, met us at the bus-stop with her two children and we took the short walk to her studio. Maira is only working part-time at present because she is expecting her third child in the winter. She is so warm and friendly and instantly made us welcome.

I was like a kid in a candy shop, all these beautiful pieces of work that she had for sale, but I would get into that before I left. Now, we were going to create our own masterpieces. Maira uses Mongolian Merino, top quality she tells us as we choose from a rack of rainbow colours. Too many choices. 

We were each given a piece of shaped, plastic bubble wrap, appropriate for our foot size, sort of the shape of a horse shoe. I had no idea how this was going to become a pair of slippers but I was full of trust for the master.  The two colours we had chosen were for the inside and the outside of the slippers. I was being a bit “out there” and had red and purple. I had to put a layer of purple wool covering the plastic shape. Easy…

Next came the hot water sprinkled from a bottle with holes in the lid. A second layer was placed with the fibres going in the opposite direction. Carefully, the plastic shape covered with wool was flipped over, edges tucked in and the process repeated. There was lots of tucking, wetting and pressing before we got to use the second colour, and a repetition of the purple layer. I still couldn’t work out how this one shape was going to make two slippers, but I had faith.

We then got to add decoration. A friend who had done this before had given advise of going with a design in mind, but I hadn’t, so I just played till I came up with something. Of course I liked everyone else’s design better than mine. I worked trying to make it perfect, but was reminded by Maira that this is a hand made product, it shouldn’t be perfect. So that is my excuse. Maira’s 5 year old daughter told her mum she liked mine, that made me feel better.

Now we needed to start “felting”, I thought that was what we had been doing. The woolly shape was covered with a net fabric and out came the soap. Maira said it was Russian soap, so it won’t dry our hands. Like kindy kids finger painting, we lathered up our hands and started rubbing, first on the edges then in the middle. Maira’s daughter dragged up a chair and came to my aid, I had an obviously well experienced helper.

 

This “felting” process went on for about 10 minutes before we had to start the kneading. No horses here, we had to do it hand and this proved to be hard work. There was lots of rolling and unrolling, pushing and squeezing. The next bit was when I had the light-bulb moment. Maira picked up a pair of shears and snipped into by wool. As she cut down the centre she dragged out the plastic pattern and my one shape became two slippers. There were my slippers, purple on the inside and red on the outside. Taa daaa… But they looked HUGE.

 

Eventually (and thankfully) Maira said it was time for the washing machine…yeah. The boots were put into the machine and we retired for a well earned and delicious lunch.

I couldn’t help but think that we were sharing a tradition that has spanned generations of Mongolians. Women gathered to produce clothes that will keep us warm through the harsh winter, all around a work area, gossiping and laughing and then, just when we need a rest, retiring for meal of steaming traditional foods.  Maira had learnt her art from her grandmother who was a traditional Kazakh felter, making rugs and selling them to supplement the family income. I wonder if Maira’s daughter, who shows an interest, will continue the tradition.

As the washing machine finished, so did our lunch and we were back in the workroom to see how things were going.  While we had been kneading we thought our slippers were slowly shrinking but what came out of the machine was something less like the boots of the Jolly Green Giant, and something a little more akin to Cinderella (if she was Mongolian and living in a cold climate requiring something more than glass to keep her feet warm). The colours had faded and melded, so what started as “out there” is a more muted tone.

I am absolutely delighted with the result, and so proud of the fact that I made them myself. We have all decided we want rubber soles for durability, so have left them at the workshop for the finishing touches. But of course, there was the showroom with other delights for sale, how could I resist. I have come home with a beautiful scarf that will see me happy in winter. And I have decide to go back and do it all again, it was so much fun. 

P.S.  Maira sells some of her craft at the Fine Arts Museum here in UB and she does have a website www.feltmongolia.mn Unfortunately, she is having trouble selling her wares internationally because of the laws regarding money coming into Mongolia, they don’t have paypal. If any of our friends see something on the website that you would like, that is an original hand made product, let me know and I will see if I can arrange something. I’m sure I can negotiate a price too.  

Well.....

I had just finished writing my last email about my fun Friday with an ambulance ride to the immigration office, and James came home.

So I decided to show him my photo-shopped passport photos and went on a hunt for my little cloth purse. In this little cloth purse, with Kazak designs stitched on it, was - a small amount of cash, my keys to the office, a pen and my new lipstick. Oh and my passport. The last time I can remember seeing, it was sitting on my lap in the ambulance. I checked and it wasn't in the ambulance, I went up the corner and, even though I don't think the lady understood me, it hadn't been handed in at the bank, or any of the small shops. I'm thinking BUGGER, I've lost my lipstick. Oh and my passport.

I phoned the consulate to report it and got a phone call back from the Acting Consulate General, the real guy is on holidays. (Pity I could have used my 'contacts')  He said he would have to cancel his evenings arrangements and get onto Canberra to cancel my passport straight away, but he wasn't worried at all about my lipstick. BUGGER. Then my phone rang again and he said it was OK, Canberra said I can wait to Monday. Thank God I had been to Immigration today and sorted my alien card because I certainly couldn't do that without a passport.

We weren't going to spoil the night, we headed off on the bus to the British Embassy for a few drinks with friends. Half way into my first gin and tonic, this guy came up and introduced himself as the Acting Consular General of Australia. I sheepishly introduced myself and I could read this look of "So you're the silly bugger who lost their passport" Anyway, he was really nice about it and we chatted away. Later in the evening we were chatting to the British Consular General and he was talking about "the minor diplomatic incident" that had delayed the arrival of the Australian guy. OOOps, that was me....

When we left we headed to the bus stop and saw our bus approaching. As we made our way to the door, four guys surrounded James and pushed him on to the bus. I sang out "watch out for your wallet" as the front guy then turned and pushed James back and off the bus. They literally rolled him off the bus then took off. Fortunately James is in one piece, if not a little dusty, and still has his wallet and phone. I should have asked them if they had seen my lipstick.

So, Monday will be a fun day too, probably spending half of it getting a new passport and lipstick. But this is Mongolia and these "minor diplomatic incidents' gives me something to write about.

Now I'm not sure if I want another Friday.

Cheers

di

Hi Everyone,

Back at work today after my short trip over the border to China. I traveled by the Trans Siberian Railway, through the Southern Gobi and into a little city in China called Erlian. It was a great few days, I got my new visa and it was back to work today.

I was wondering if we might do a little more weeding this afternoon, but when I walked in this morning, I couldn't see any of the troublesome weeds that we had to pull out. We did such a good job last Friday. But I only made it to lunch time, because now that I have my new visa, I can apply for an alien card. Sounds rather weird doesn't it.

I had a phone call from the Foreign Relations Officer (a really nice young doctor with great English) and she said we could go to the Immigration Office this afternoon. I realised then that even if there was some gardening to do I'd miss out because the Immigration Office is about 45 minutes from town, depending on traffic. Gerlee, the F.R.O, would arrange transport. I had to meet her at the back entrance to the hospital.

When I got there our carriage awaited .... the hospital ambulance. I questioned what if someone needs it, but it seems that they didn't think that was a possibility, so we piled in. I had this secret urge to say I wanted to ride in the back, but I suppressed it. So, off we went, stopping so I could have passport photos on the way. I had to submit one on the immigration form and the girl did a nice job of photo-shopping. The advantage of traveling in an emergency vehicle is that when the traffic got thick, the driver just hit the siren. Love it.  So when I say 45 minute trip, that is if you aren't in an ambulance.

Mind you, it was pretty sparse inside. A stretcher, oxygen bottle and first aid kit, and I was told it was very well equipped. I had a sudden thought, hope we don't come across an accident, I wouldn't know what to do.

At the Immigration Office it was lots of forms to fill and numbers to give. Then I had to have another photo. You should see the photo they took, then you would know why it says "alien". This followed by fingerprints, in case I do something wrong I guess.

All done now and all I have to do is wait for my card to arrive. And, to wait with bated breath for next Friday, wonder what the next surprise will be.

Cheers

Di

Hello Everyone,

I just have to share my Friday at work here in UB.

I had to be at work early for a "nurses meeting" at 7.30 so headed to the bus stop. Along came bus 21, it slowed but kept going. I felt this wasn't a good start to Friday. No to worry, hailed a taxi by standing on the side of the road and waving my hand till any random car that was going my way stopped. Got to work in time to change into my smart white coat and spiffy white shoes (locally purchased).

Got to the meeting, which started the traditional 15 minutes late. It was all conducted in Mongolian and I think was about statistics. I got the feeling that PC (Palliative Care) didn't score well because the head nurse made lots of angry noises and sat with her arms folded across her chest. While discussion was still ongoing, suddenly everyone stood up and left. Maybe the conversation was getting too heated.

Anyway, I spent most of my day with Yuki, a delightful volunteer nurse from Japan. Fortunately she speaks English and Mongolian (smartty pants) so sometimes translates for me. She is based in the Head and Neck surgical ward which is a unit much improved on the area I work in. I get the feeling Palliative Care is the poor cousin. They even have soap and hand towel in the staff toilet. But it is still locked. (Our staff toilet has been locked for 4 days now because they have lost the key) Yuki did a lecture for nurses, which was interesting to sit in on. She did it in Japanese with a Mongolian powerpoint with a translator. I didn't understand a word but the  pictures were pretty. It was Yuki's birthday so we had cake, horshoor (a yummy Mongolian meat pastry) and salty milk tea for lunch.

After lunch I returned to the 'PC' ward where there was lots of chatter with my name, lavender and wash sprinkled through the conversation. Some very precious lavender oil from Australia has been a remarkable hit and is used any time a patient needs a wash by the nurses (usually the job of the family, but if they feel someone is particularly dirty the paramedical aid goes in and scrubs). So I assumed that was what they were saying. Something as simple as lavender is giving great pleasure and helping to add a little pampering for a few.

I did suggest to the head nurse (through a translator) that I would like to design a Nurse Assessment tool for use by the nurses. I had noticed that when patients are admitted there is no assessment done by the nurses, for that matter, no ongoing assessment either. Her reply was "the doctor does it". I  pushed on saying the nurses tend the patient more closely (even if it is just medications and vital signs) and that they could provide the doctor with more comprehensive information if they knew what to look for, maybe I had said it wrong the first time. "But the doctor does it". There is a very strong hierarchy.

Again the word lavender was mentioned as everyone was donning the blue gown, hats, gloves and masks that are worn for any patient contact. One of the nurses pointed out the window and said wash. I thought maybe she wanted to grow lavender in the garden, a constant supply. So, because I seem to have become an important part of this patient hygiene, I too was encouraged to dressed up. I am surprised at how quickly this has now become second nature. But this time everyone was dressed up, doctor, head nurse, ward nurses and paramedical aid. I thought maybe interesting new patient.

Like a sheep I followed, ...out of the ward. Maybe going to another ward? In the corridor we met Tamir, the only English speaking staff in 'PC'. They said something to him, he looked at me and said "You are all going out to clean the yard". I said "You're kidding me, right?" "No, for sure, everyone, doctors and nurses are going to clean the garden". Thank god I was wearing a mask because all I could do was laugh. Nobody would believe me (so I took photos). When we got down stairs a good proportion of the hospital staff were at the front of the building pulling weeds. Sure enough Tamir was right, doctors, nurses, theatre staff, kitchen staff, all doing their bit. On my first visit to the hospital, my Mongolian co-ordinator had said to me "look at the beautiful grass" which was all weeds, guess just what we don't cultivate.

The head nurse and the doctor surveyed a little patch that was ours and away we went. I was quite happy till I found out I was pulling the wrong weeds "No No Diana", to me they are all weeds. But what a hoot. There were all these blue gowned, paper hatted people bobbing about in knee high weeds while visitors sat on bench seats and watched. Every now and then I would just laugh. Thank heaven for the families who stayed with the patients in the wards. Yuki assured me they don't do this in Japan. Thing is, as soon as someone visits on the ward, they have to buy plastic shoe covers, because their shoes are dirty. We were all out there in our ward shoes.

But what a nice way to finish off a Friday, enjoying the warm sun out among nature. I think it is a practice that western hospitals should employ, Daw House has a big garden. Trouble is now I'm home and could really do with a nice hot soak in the bath after my gardening, our hot water is turned off till mid August for pipe maintenance, bugger, it's a cold shower.

So now, it is kick back, a coffee (or stronger) before our little Aussie expat get together to celebrate a bit of National Pride and await the Olympics. And fortunately I will be in China next Friday sorting my visa, so no more weed pulling.

Cheers

Di