Still Day 9, Baaskaa’s gets a call for yet another job.
As soon as we left the office, Baaskaa’s friend Enkhee called. The two were classmates in Naleikh and became close friends.
Upon Baaskaa’s arrival in UB I gave him a phone, so I could be in contact with him. But he saw it differently ☺. He had been in the countryside with no means of communication and being able to call his friends was sweet medicine for him. His pre-paid phone card had to be refilled numerous times!
Enkhee had heard about a mining company recruiting for their Gobi operations, so he investigated and learned there were several openings. I was stunned; we went from panicking about the lack of opportunities to having choices.
The boys called a third friend, Huvlee, who lived in Banuur, a small mining town six hours away from UB, where Baaskaa had completed his practical training in the spring of 2010. Huvlee was pressured by his family to find a job, but so far, he was unsuccessful.
Twelve hours later we heard a knock on our door. The three boys hadn’t seen each other in almost a year. It was a happy reunion, which we celebrated with a feast (well, almost) and cake for dessert.
The next morning the three boys signed up for the three-day practical training from which the company would choose six new employees.
The boys enjoyed working together. But the second evening they returned home quite moody. When I asked what they had done they described a grueling day of physical labor. I think reality checked in and they realized what was ahead of them. On the third day all three boys got the thumbs up; they qualified for the job and were accepted. (Which resulted in another feast and more cake as crowning dessert).
Jobs in the mining industry are paid very well; in addition, the companies provide housing, food and work clothes. The employees have access to a library, computer lab, gym and laundry on the premises. But the job is hard. Baaskaa told me he’d have to work 12 hours shifts, seven days a week. I am sure they'll have some days off, but not many. Apparently the aren’t many opportunities to spend money, but I am convinced that the mining corporations came up with some “entertainment” ideas, which allows the hard earned money to flow back into the company.
The minute Baaksaa learned he was accepted, he made a schedule and budget. To achieve his dream of a profitable dairy farm he needs 40 cows to produce enough milk, cheese and yogurt. According to his calculations he’d have to work two years to save enough money to be able to afford 20 French milk cows out of the 40 he wants. Two years. That is two straight years of hard, physical labor, 12 hours a day. A painful scenario for every mother, long distance or not.
After completing the training, the new employees learned that they were waiting for a safety instructor to arrive from Gobi. The mandatory safety instructions are the one obstacle delaying the boy’s departure. The waiting began.
My heart is heavy; I don’t want him to work in a mine, far away in the Gobi desert, with no means to reach him. When he is in the countryside, I have a visual and I can send a friend to visit him (what I really mean is "check on him"). In Gobi, I have none of it. But mining is what he wants to do and I have to let him.
Every morning I embrace myself that this might be the last shared day. I play the scene in my head, him leaving on a bus to Gobi while I stay behind. He had never left me; I come and go while he stays behind. This is the last time Baaskaa will be the boy I knew. Once he is off to Gobi, I will get him back as a young, matured man, in charge for himself. I guess that’s what they call “let him go”, which turns out to be much harder then I anticipated.
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