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Mongolia/EarthNet MONGOLEI EXPEDITION - The online diaries year 2011

Expensive work ethic

N 49°01'802'' E 104°01'571''
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    Day: 20

    Sunrise:
    05:52 pm

    Sunset:
    8:25 pm

    Total kilometers:
    400

    Temperature – Day (maximum):
    23 °C

    Temperature – day (minimum):
    15 °C

    Temperature – Night:
    14 °C

    Latitude:
    49°01’802”

    Longitude:
    104°01’571”

    Maximum height:
    1415 m above sea level

At 10:00 a.m. we talk to the carpenter again to fix the price again. In fact, he now says he needs not two but three days for the work. “Why didn’t you know that yesterday?” I ask as calmly as possible. “I’ve thought about the amount of work tonight,” he says confidently. We suggest that Tsaagaan be placed at his side. That way he doesn’t need two men, just one, and we don’t have to pay another salary. Although he initially resists, we prevail. “When can you start?” I ask, as he was supposed to have been working for a few hours. “Today,” he says. All right, we’re in Mongolia, so today is not today and the same is not the same. The clocks tick differently here, only the money is demanded to an extent that we do not know in the western world.

Tsaagaan agrees to work on the horse-drawn cart. Now the three of them set off to buy the materials. I have no idea why three men are needed for this? But we are in Mongolia. So piano and patience. That’s the order of the day here.

As today is Sunday, Taagii wants to go to his Mormon church. “You can go ahead. The men are working on the horse and cart and I have writing to do,” I reply. Tanja accompanies him. “I want to know what a church service looks like there,” she says.

In the late afternoon, in freezing cold, torrential rain and gale-force winds, we meet up with the wagon builders at the black market. “Why is this called a black market? Isn’t it all quite official?” I ask. “No idea,” replies Taagii, which makes us realize that this word is a mistranslation. Because the carpenter, Tsaagaan and the truck driver need me for the rest of the shopping, I have to be there to get the materials that are still missing. With Ulzii, Taagii and myself, there are now six of us. We buy steel, welding wire and other tools for the wagon so that we can weld a frame like a covered wagon. We then pull a waterproof tarpaulin made of tear-resistant fabric over the frame. At least that’s the plan. We built a car like this with our companion Nirgui back in 1995. There were two of us at the time, we had very poor materials and were finished with everything after two days.

“Were you able to buy the tree trunks for the dykes and the planks?” I ask the three men. “There were no thin tree trunks for the dykes in the whole of Erdenet. We had to travel to the countryside to buy them from shepherds. “And that took you from this morning until now?” I ask. The answer is silence. So we paid a truck driver, a carpenter and Tsaagaan for a day so that the three of them could get planks and two thin tree trunks. Then there are 70,000 tugriks (€40) for welding rod, 65,000 tugriks (€37) for petrol and another 50,000 tugriks (€29) for drills and other tools that the carpenter does not have for his work. We now take everything to the carpenter’s front garden. Tsaagaan, the carpenter, The Driver, Ulzii and our Taagii are now standing around the parts and making palaver. An hour later, they are still standing there talking. “What about actually getting to work? I mean, we pay five people here and nobody does anything,” I say sourly. They all look at me like I’m a Martian. Then, as if in slow motion, they start chopping the bark off the two expensive thin trunks with an axe. Every five minutes, the worker hands over the axe to another. So you certainly won’t get a heart attack or sore muscles. Even though we have an enormous amount of travel experience, even though we are here in Mongolia, it’s still hard to believe. Tanja and I can’t bear to look at this sight any longer and go back to our log cabin. “There are five men doing the job that I could do on my own,” I say a little dejectedly. “Well, you have to write the stories down. You can’t do everything,” Tanja reassures me. “That’s right. But in such cases, I could curse writing,” I reply and have a cup of tea.

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