Click here to view our Picture GalleryMongolia, Sunday
I knew the kids were looking at me strangely, but I didn't care. I ran my hand against the wooden panel slowly -wanting to feel every inch of its ancient painted pattern -as though by touching it I could absorb history. I imagined who else over the centuries had stood where my feet now stood. I imagined who might have painted it and how long it might have taken to complete. It was almost as though, if I concentrated hard enough, I could imagine what their faces might have looked like. What hands had touched the same wooden panel? How many children's eyes had gazed at the painted silhouetted cranes against the setting sun background? And, before that- even before the plank had been painted and made into a wall in this palace- where had it stood as a tree and for how long?
I touched the painted snow-capped mountain and ran my fingers along the tiny tree branch brush strokes. I had been standing there for so long that my feet felt like magnets being pressed to the ground. I knew at this point there were at least five students behind me -watching with fascination. How did I come to be standing here in a Mongol Palace with 25 Mongolian middle school students? How incredible was this!
There is something very powerful about being able to directly touch history. It's grounding. And, I wonder if this is one of the things we lack in the 'western world' of glassed in artifacts and roped museums. Are we missing the link of touch to our ancestors? Standing there I was completing a circle -forging a bond between past and present. And, as I looked up to the circular mandala behind the Buddha statue, I felt for the first time in my life that I understood a little more what his symbol meant.
* * *
This afternoon the students took us the mountainside where they had organized a litter clean-up. As we neared the mountain, I thought, 'that is a lot of trash! How are they possibly going to be able to clean that all up!' I was soon to find out!
About 50 students ran toward the mountain's side with trash bags in hand (no exaggeration- literally, ran!). They attacked that mountain. They scooped up trash with a speed I have never really seen at a clean-up before. They hovered precariously from rocky heights to grab bits of cloth and old cans. It was definitely a liability issue if I've ever seen one... but none of the teachers seemed concerned as students scaled the mountain without harnesses or some without even proper coats on. After an hour, we stepped back and looked at the side of the mountain and found it clean! At the bottom was a pile of yellow bags filled with trash and number of smiling children. It was incredible!
* * *
Picture this:
You are standing at the top of a small mountain (or large hill). It is so cold you have trouble moving your fingers. In front of you is a sacred pile of rocks, decorated with blue silk scarves. You add a stone to the pile and then circle it three times clockwise, as is customary. As you near the far edge of the pile you are able to see the intensity of the height which you are at -if you just took a few steps outwards you would most likely tumble to your death or at least to serious injury. So, you hug the side of the stone pile with more care. The wind is blowing harshly -causing the blue silk material bits to bellow like sails. And, the altitude makes you dizzy, so for a moment you wonder if the perhaps they are sails and the whole mountain a ship -you a passenger and the blue sky the sea. But, the sounds of children's voices hiking up the side of the mountain, picking up trash, brings you back down to reality as you make the last circle around the rock pile.
You pause to look out at the taller mountains all around you and then the orderly laid out city of Ulaanbaatar below. Suddenly, one of the students is pointing excitedly toward the mountain tops behind you. You turn and see the top of one of the mountains is encircled in clouds (though blue sky still above the city). As you look closer, you realize in a flash why the student is so excited. The entire mountaintop (from peak down) is being covered in white. You have never seen a snow fall in this way before - or from this distance. Like spray paint the mountain becomes covered in this majestic mist -painting trees... filling in the spaces between trees. And, then it stops. You could have easily missed this performance had you been looking the other way for too long. ...But, now you will have it forever.
I touched the painted snow-capped mountain and ran my fingers along the tiny tree branch brush strokes. I had been standing there for so long that my feet felt like magnets being pressed to the ground. I knew at this point there were at least five students behind me -watching with fascination. How did I come to be standing here in a Mongol Palace with 25 Mongolian middle school students? How incredible was this!
There is something very powerful about being able to directly touch history. It's grounding. And, I wonder if this is one of the things we lack in the 'western world' of glassed in artifacts and roped museums. Are we missing the link of touch to our ancestors? Standing there I was completing a circle -forging a bond between past and present. And, as I looked up to the circular mandala behind the Buddha statue, I felt for the first time in my life that I understood a little more what his symbol meant.
* * *
This afternoon the students took us the mountainside where they had organized a litter clean-up. As we neared the mountain, I thought, 'that is a lot of trash! How are they possibly going to be able to clean that all up!' I was soon to find out!
About 50 students ran toward the mountain's side with trash bags in hand (no exaggeration- literally, ran!). They attacked that mountain. They scooped up trash with a speed I have never really seen at a clean-up before. They hovered precariously from rocky heights to grab bits of cloth and old cans. It was definitely a liability issue if I've ever seen one... but none of the teachers seemed concerned as students scaled the mountain without harnesses or some without even proper coats on. After an hour, we stepped back and looked at the side of the mountain and found it clean! At the bottom was a pile of yellow bags filled with trash and number of smiling children. It was incredible!
* * *
Picture this:
You are standing at the top of a small mountain (or large hill). It is so cold you have trouble moving your fingers. In front of you is a sacred pile of rocks, decorated with blue silk scarves. You add a stone to the pile and then circle it three times clockwise, as is customary. As you near the far edge of the pile you are able to see the intensity of the height which you are at -if you just took a few steps outwards you would most likely tumble to your death or at least to serious injury. So, you hug the side of the stone pile with more care. The wind is blowing harshly -causing the blue silk material bits to bellow like sails. And, the altitude makes you dizzy, so for a moment you wonder if the perhaps they are sails and the whole mountain a ship -you a passenger and the blue sky the sea. But, the sounds of children's voices hiking up the side of the mountain, picking up trash, brings you back down to reality as you make the last circle around the rock pile.
You pause to look out at the taller mountains all around you and then the orderly laid out city of Ulaanbaatar below. Suddenly, one of the students is pointing excitedly toward the mountain tops behind you. You turn and see the top of one of the mountains is encircled in clouds (though blue sky still above the city). As you look closer, you realize in a flash why the student is so excited. The entire mountaintop (from peak down) is being covered in white. You have never seen a snow fall in this way before - or from this distance. Like spray paint the mountain becomes covered in this majestic mist -painting trees... filling in the spaces between trees. And, then it stops. You could have easily missed this performance had you been looking the other way for too long. ...But, now you will have it forever.
