A Spirited Mountain

Day three. I went up on top of a nearby mountain, to get a Wide Shot of Byambaa’s farm during a snowstorm. Baaskaa must have seen me, because he came after me on his horse. I got the most amazing shot of him riding slowly, but deliberately up the mountain, towards me. This shot screams to be the opening shot.

I got so excited that I didn’t pay attention to where I stepped on my way down and I slipped. I fell, with the camera going down first. This is the first time in 20 years that I broke a camera. Normally I manage to put my body between hard surfaces and the camera. Not that I fall that often, but I had my share of running high speed through a moving train or the woods, with a 35mm camera on my shoulder, or doing a balancing act on high riser construction sites to shoot some steel working Mohawks.

But of course, to break my first camera I had to go to Mongolia! In addition, it’s the new one, the one I just bought, the one with no insurance yet. ... :(

Khosoo told me later that mountains are seen as very moody, particular towards women. Mongolian women try to avoid having to climb mountains.

Funny enough, that’s what I felt. I had climbed the mountain many times, actually during my very first visit to Byambaa’s farm, three years ago, but this time it did feel weird, something was very off. Although I got this beautiful shot, I felt a strange vibe coming from the mountain, which I attributed to the snow storm.

When I returned home I carefully checked the camera. The housing was in pieces, exposing the bent motherboard and the focus was locked in one position. I couldn’t deal with the pain, so I just stored away the camera and grabbed the back-up, tape-based camera.

A little later the sun came out, so I went back to get the same high angle Wide Shot of Byambaa’s farm for a “different season”. Hanging out on the top of the mountain, waiting for the clouds to move, I felt the usual positive vibe around me which I had experienced so many times before. It was the weirdest thing.

Two days later I pulled out the broken camera to test it again and it worked just fine! It is absolutely a miracle. To thank the mountain spirits, I spilled a little milk towards east and west, a Mongolian custom.

Life in the Country

Day two. By now life in the Mongolia countryside doesn’t feel the slightest bit strange to me. I just pick up where I left off.

Sometimes I feel so connected to this beautiful landscape, yet I wonder: how did I get here? How did I get so immersed in a country that is so far away and so strange? It's like having two personalities.

I was lucky to have met the right people. Our host, Byambaa, opened his house, fed us, entertained us and allowed us to freely document the passing days. Often Byambaa is alone in the country, as his wife Byaraa stays in the city during the school periods. That must have motivated him to turn their home into social-central. People come and go, sometimes without even saying hello or good-bye. As soon as they sit down, they get a cup of tea or a glass of beer. People just pop in, chat a bit and leave again, with such an ease and lightness, even so the Mongolian customs and social interactions are very particular.

My favorite part is spending time with the kids, of course. Baaskaa continuously amazes me and makes me laugh all the time. Vannie is just plain adorable, you just want to wrap your arms around him to protect him, even so I know he is a tough one. And Nasa is simply astonishing and surprising.

I have become so much part of this family that Byambaa felt comfortable enough to ask me to cook for the national holiday celebrating the army and manhood. It wasn’t proper for a man to cook that day, so I stepped in, as the only woman in the house. I couldn’t quite figure out if they liked my dish, but the etiquette was saved!

We arrived in Mongolia....

... and hit the ground running. The day of our arrival (which also means after a grueling 24 hours on the road / in the air), we were shooting major scenes, which were planned for week three! Day two we went to the countryside to stay with Byambaa, Baaskaa and Bennie for four days, after visiting Nasa. Blake didn't get a chance to breath. Not only did he find himself in a yurt, surrounded by Mongolians laughing about his name - Blake, Black, same thing - he got his first taste of how tough Mongolians can be. While driving to Byambaa, we saw a drunken man lying at the side of the "road", frozen stiff, so he had to be hoisted onto our pick up truck, like a sack of potatoes. Watch the cigarette in his hand, also frozen! If we wouldn't have come by, the man would have died, as he was about to fall asleep, thanks to Mongolia's most favorite "mothers little helper", vodka. While I was laughing about it, I also realized once again how easily people die here.

But Mongolians have a dead pan, dry humor. When we arrived in the next zum, the man had defrosted enough to stand on his own feet, yet he still needed to be "unloaded".

He immediately complained that we had driven him the wrong direction, away from UB, which is where he wanted to go. "Helping is good, but you drove me back; now I have to walk again, that's bad!"

Only the strong survive here.

Being in the countryside was blissful, as usual.
Please check back in for more, as there is so much to tell, I don't even know where to start.

We made it through the first shoot day.

It was meant to be a short production day, just profiling me collecting and sorting the donations meant to go to Mongolia. But the number of donated goods organized by Dwight and Pat and provided by Dwight’s wife Leigh Van Swall and Jared Byer, was much larger then anticipated!

We got boxes filled with winter outerwear, fleece sweaters, waterproof boots and backpacks, in addition to Avia sweaters and sweatpants from Bernette Textile and additional footwear from Planet Sox. After they received the large shipment, Leigh and Dwight had asked if there is anything else I wished for. It is an usual question, as I am so trained to be practical – what is needed and what can I get! But no one ever asked what I WISH for! I told them that two of the kids will graduate in May and ideally I could provide them with some nice clothes, suitable for the occasion.

Last year, I had to persuade Baaskaa to allow me to buy him an outfit for his graduation. At first he declined, but eventually he was willing to at least consider it, for me! He didn't want to admit that he cared about his appearance; I remember acting the same, when I was 18. ☺ Once he saw that everyone else was dressed up for the occasion, he was happy to have a nice sports jacket himself. Consequently he wears it every time I come. I had to ask him to not wear it every day, but save it for special occasions! To read the full graduation story please click here.

Leigh and Dwight managed to get us four beautiful high quality sports jackets, courtesy of Joseph Abboud, which I would have never been able to afford. The kids will be so excited! When Davaa graduates in May, he’ll be happy to make his mom and sisters proud, showing off good grades and a snazzy look!

Not only are the jackets of high quality and stylish, they are also made in the USA! Most of the items I carry to Mongolia are made in China, which often irritates me, simply because of the slightly absurd out-sourcing and shipping system we have created for ourselves.

You can see some more pictures of the attempt to pack at Dwight’s FB page.

It was quite strange to be on camera and not to shoot, but thankfully I was busy enough not to become too self-conscious. I have to admit though, I kept glancing longingly at the camera in Blake’s hands. Shooting is so much my second nature, that it is hard for me to give it up, but I will have ample opportunities once we are in Mongolia and I can stop dragging around oversized luggage.

The Photo Exhibit moved to the West Village.

If you couldn’t make it to see the photos in the East Village, please visit Sacred Cow, 227 Sullivan Street, NYC 10012 (b/w W3 & Bleecker) p: 212.337.0863

Sacred Cow serves exceptionally tasty vegan fare, but nevertheless, I find it funny that my Mongolian photos are hanging in a vegan restaurant.

The main ingredient of the Mongolia diet is meat, as their entire life is based on the traditional five animals: horse, cow & yak, camel, sheep and goat. I have seen two year olds gnawing on bones, pulling off meat morsels with their teeth.

Right after the Russians left, Western influences arrived in the country and Mongolians were told to add vegetables to their daily diet. For a while, rumors hovered that the heightened vegetable consumption would cause health problems. By now things have calmed down and people enjoy vegetables and fruits, if they can afford them. In Ulaanbaatar, you can even find several vegetarian restaurants.

After all these cultural changes, it doesn’t seem so far fetched to show my meat-heavy images in a vegan place. The tasty food will answer the question even for the most dedicated meat lovers.

Eighth Trip To Baaskaa. A documentary.

Every time I travel to Mongolia, I try to shoot something coherent, only to find that I can’t manage the things that have to be dealt with AND wrap my head around how to tell the story. Over the last two years I’ve accumulated wonderful footage of the kids, the families and the landscapes, but I am far from being able to compose a story in three acts.

Over the years I have had a few requests from filmmakers to shoot a documentary about my work, but that particular angle never interested me. What I am interested in is portraying the kids' lives and giving them a voice. Also I found it difficult to imagine being a subject rather than filming one. But often it’s all about the right question at the right moment.

Before I left for Afghanistan, I attended a luncheon for The Lottery, a documentary directed by Madeline Sackler and DP’ed by my very good friend Wolfgang Held. Thanks to Wolfgang, I got to work on it for a day as additional camera operator.

To keep this story short ☺, Blake Ashman-Kipervaser, the producer of The Lottery had read my website top to bottom and expressed interest in developing a documentary. I had my usual reaction, of not wanting to do an ‘intervention’ movie that would focus on me. We both agreed that the heart of the film should be the children and my unusual relationships with them, which are intimate, but separated by culture, language and distance.

At first we thought we’d hire a Mongolian cinematographer and I would direct, but we soon realized that that’s not the way to go. Blake decided to jump in and become the team: director, cinematographer and producer.

I am very excited about this development, as I envision portraying the children as individuals, rather than the recipients of good deeds. I also have a very selfish reason; I have always wanted to hear their stories in detail, as well as their thoughts and opinions about what is important to them, but never could make the time to just hang out and chat. But here we come.

Blake and I will leave for Mongolia next week, for three and a half weeks, and we will post visual and written snapshots of our adventures.

Back home from Afghanistan, at last.

Now that I am back, I miss it.

I know everyone is expecting pictures, but I only have a few. You don’t go strolling in Kabul, if you leave the house you follow a straight line from A to B, except when roadblocks force you to make a detour. Whenever I had the chance to be out, I was filming, so I apologize for disappointing everyone.

I loved the monochrome color scheme in Afghanistan, all the shades of browns and beiges, speckled with the occasional green, the color of Islam. I love the sensibility of the people towards each other - granted I am spared from understanding the less pleasant comments. I love the physicality of men with men and women with women, but the country is very deprived of co-ed affection. After three weeks in Kabul, I found myself staring at a waiter, who was wearing particularly tight pants. I couldn’t keep my gaze from wandering downwards with every order – not because I was so smitten, simply because I was hungry for any visual clue of physical connection or intimacy.

The only physical ‘action’ you get in abundance are security pat-downs.

There are police checkpoints everywhere, in addition to roadblocks and security barriers. After almost four weeks in my hotel, I still don’t know what the façade looks like, because it’s barricaded with cement blocks and sand bags. It became normal to see as many guns as people, or to wait at the entrance of a public building while our security guard checked in his handgun. I, a pacifist at heart, got used to staring at guns and being physically close to them without even blinking.

Back in NY, I find life on the street almost banal.

How strange it feels. We always think we know who we are, our interests, convictions and character traits, yet so much depends on our environment. I had the same epiphany when I moved from Berlin to New York. Once confronted with a new environment, I got confused about who I was and half of my principles with the attached responses weren’t valid or important anymore. I had to allow myself to be taken over by new insights and beliefs and discovered a whole new side of me.
Now I let myself drift into new experiences every time I travel.

In Mongolia, I always wish I could bring the kids to the States, just for a little while, so they too would understand that half of their issues are significant, yet definitely not final.

I guess I have to train them all to become cinematographers, so they can travel, while working, while rediscovering themselves within an ever-changing world.

How lucky I am!

On to the next …….