RollingStone.com 6/11/2011
Jeff Mangum Adds More Solo Dates
Neutral Milk Hotel's songwriter Jeff Mangum has added five dates to his upcoming solo tour. In addition to a string of sold out shows announced earlier this year, the reclusive singer will also play at the First Unitarian Church in Burlington, Vermont on August 8th, Cabaret du Mile-End in Montreal on August 10th, the Academy of Music Theater in Northhampton, Massachusetts on September 7th and 2640 Space at St. John's Church in Baltimore, Maryland on September 26th and 27th. $1 per each ticket for these shows will go to the Children of the Blue Sky charity. [Press release]
I am truly touched by Jeff’s generosity.
This isn't the first time. When I started my project in Mongolia in 2008, I approached friends and colleagues for support and donations, something I could never imagine myself doing! Me asking for help and money – impossible!
To my surprise I got immediate and generous responses even while we were in the middle of a recession.
Astra Taylor and Jeff Mangum had the great idea to organize an art auction. They contacted their musician and filmmaker friends and asked them to donate their work for the charity auction. We got signed CDs, posters, t-shirts with beautiful and funky drawings (many of them by Jeff), books, a Dwight Schrute Bobblehead from the man himself and many more items. The revenues of the auction enabled me to go to Mongolia and set up two kids in 2009.
And now he's at it again. One dollar of every ticket is very generous. I assume musicians like him, who stay true to their music, won’t make millions at the box office, so Jeff’s support is really special to me.
I am pretty sure his ticket sales will allow me to put my three kids through school this summer, so two of them can get their middle school diplomas. This is HUGE for kids who have had little, if any, schooling at all.
Thank you Jeff!
Wednesday, June 22, 2011
Sunday, June 19, 2011
The Roar Of A Lion Cub
One of the first things that Baaskaa did upon arriving in the city was calling his friends. While in Naleikh he had developed strong bonds with a couple of friends and they had stayed in touch. But since Baaskaa lacked his own phone and the ability to visit the city, their communication was spotty at best. As soon as they had a chance to reconnect, Baaskaa and his two friends Enkhee and Huvlee became inseparable. Enkhee would go home late at night, just to reappear early in the morning, while Huvlee only left us every so often for a couple hours, to visit his sister.
Baaskaa was a proud host. He enjoyed having a home and welcome visitors. They cooked together, discuss live and work, did laundry, ran errands and went grocery shopping. For my birthday I got a present from Baaskaa and Enkhee, with a card, “I love Mom, Baaskaa and Enkhee”.
Baaskaa had also called Davaa, who subsequently stayed with us for a couple days. He seemed to be more withdrawn, less open, than usual. As always, Davaa had his own plans and was a bit unwilling to share them. It became obvious that Baaskaa's and Davaa's friendship had changed.
Two days later Davaa disappeared again. When I asked where he is, Baaskaa just shrugged his shoulders; he had gone home again. Just like that.
Photos by Enkhee.
I loved having Baaska's friends around because it gave me the chance to observe him and get to know a new side of him. Out in the country he is either the son or apprentice to Byambaa or the big brother to Bennie. Here he was amongst equals; they are same age and have the same profession, interest and dreams.
After a couple days I realized that both Enkhee and Huvlee called Baaskaa “Bambar”. It’s such a beautiful name, it just rolls off the tongue. Turns out bambar means lion cub in Mongolian.
While living on the street Baaskaa had loved a specific ice cream called Bambar, with an image of a lion’s head on the wrapper. Whenever he had money, Baaskaa would buy himself the ice cream. The other kids started calling him Bambar and that name stuck with him, even in Naleikh. He never understood how the name made it to the vocational school, 80 miles away from UB, but he explained that if I’d ask around for Baaskaa, no one would know who I am looking for, because everyone only knows him as Bambar.
Again, three and a half years before I find out that he has a different name that is dear to him and that he is known by amongst his friends!!!
These were two stories about lions within a couple days, so I decided to change the title of the film. Baaskaa, the lion cub, who is getting ready to concur the world, and who has a dangerous, sleeping lion hidden in his heart, who he’s afraid to wake up. Yet, I can’t wait to hear him roar.
Baaskaa was a proud host. He enjoyed having a home and welcome visitors. They cooked together, discuss live and work, did laundry, ran errands and went grocery shopping. For my birthday I got a present from Baaskaa and Enkhee, with a card, “I love Mom, Baaskaa and Enkhee”.
Baaskaa had also called Davaa, who subsequently stayed with us for a couple days. He seemed to be more withdrawn, less open, than usual. As always, Davaa had his own plans and was a bit unwilling to share them. It became obvious that Baaskaa's and Davaa's friendship had changed.
Two days later Davaa disappeared again. When I asked where he is, Baaskaa just shrugged his shoulders; he had gone home again. Just like that.
Photos by Enkhee.
I loved having Baaska's friends around because it gave me the chance to observe him and get to know a new side of him. Out in the country he is either the son or apprentice to Byambaa or the big brother to Bennie. Here he was amongst equals; they are same age and have the same profession, interest and dreams.
While living on the street Baaskaa had loved a specific ice cream called Bambar, with an image of a lion’s head on the wrapper. Whenever he had money, Baaskaa would buy himself the ice cream. The other kids started calling him Bambar and that name stuck with him, even in Naleikh. He never understood how the name made it to the vocational school, 80 miles away from UB, but he explained that if I’d ask around for Baaskaa, no one would know who I am looking for, because everyone only knows him as Bambar.
Again, three and a half years before I find out that he has a different name that is dear to him and that he is known by amongst his friends!!!
These were two stories about lions within a couple days, so I decided to change the title of the film. Baaskaa, the lion cub, who is getting ready to concur the world, and who has a dangerous, sleeping lion hidden in his heart, who he’s afraid to wake up. Yet, I can’t wait to hear him roar.
Friday, June 17, 2011
A Visit to the Shaman
Baaskaa had always showed interest in spirituality. There is no doubt in his mind that a higher power exists, he’s just not sure how to describe it.
During my last visit in October 2010, Baaskaa and I discussed Buddhism and Shamanism. We had visited a monastery, which housed a school for young monks, whom we had the opportunity to observe during prayer & meditation. Upon his return to the countryside, Baaskaa imitated what he had seen and cut his hair in the monks’ fashion.
Now, at an important crossroad in his life, Baaskaa expressed a strong wish to visit a Shaman. He had a specific question he needed answered: is he on the right path and will he be successful in life.
We tried to find a Shaman that would allow us to go together, the Mongolian and the American, but all Shamans refused to see me. They pointed out that it would be difficult and confusing to call the spirits of my ancestors, as they are too far away.
I was heart broken; I had envisioned this moment since month and wanted to be there with Baaskaa. But to grant him his wish, I had to back out.
Selenge accompanied Baaskaa, since it was her Shaman, whom she regularly consults. Apparently it was a quick session. Selenge tried to give the Shaman a bit of Baaskaa’s back-story, but he just waved her off. He looked at Baaskaa for a long time until Baaskaa could feel a strange heat flowing through his body.
©Julia Calfee, Enktoya, Female Shaman in Northern Mongolia
The Shaman confirmed that Baaskaa was on the right path. He said that he’d be fine, that he’d have a wonderful life if he keeps focusing on his goals, but he’d have to be careful not to be eaten up by his anger. His anger and wish for revenge would take over if he’d not control and tame it.
I was very surprised, but Baaskaa understood what the Shaman meant, and admitted that he was very angry.
At occasions I had seen his anger flare up, particular at the beginning of our relationship, towards me and now towards Byambaa, but that anger was either a tool of self-protection, or a result of disappointment.
When I came for the second time to Mongolia, I picked two more children I'd be responsible for, which disappointed Baaskaa. It made him feel he was just part of a program, rather then an individual that got chosen. As for Byambaa, Baaskaa felt disappointed lately because he became insecure about his status within Byambaa’s family. Was he a family member, which is what he had believed for the last three years or was he just a mere farm hand?
To me it’s obvious that anger can be a powerful tool of protection and a strong reaction to emotional pain and disappointment and Baaskaa had plenty of reasons to be disappointed. Unfortunately he thinks anger is simply bad and undesirable.
He described his anger as a sleeping lion, who lies in a hidden cave of his heart. After the Shaman visit he promised himself to make sure that the lion will stay in the cave, undisturbed.
I on the other hand, can’t wait for the lion to announce his presence with a loud roar!
For more information on Shamanism and Buddhism:
http://www.mongoliatourism.org/mongolia-introduction/religions-mongolia.html
During my last visit in October 2010, Baaskaa and I discussed Buddhism and Shamanism. We had visited a monastery, which housed a school for young monks, whom we had the opportunity to observe during prayer & meditation. Upon his return to the countryside, Baaskaa imitated what he had seen and cut his hair in the monks’ fashion.
Now, at an important crossroad in his life, Baaskaa expressed a strong wish to visit a Shaman. He had a specific question he needed answered: is he on the right path and will he be successful in life.
We tried to find a Shaman that would allow us to go together, the Mongolian and the American, but all Shamans refused to see me. They pointed out that it would be difficult and confusing to call the spirits of my ancestors, as they are too far away.
I was heart broken; I had envisioned this moment since month and wanted to be there with Baaskaa. But to grant him his wish, I had to back out.
Selenge accompanied Baaskaa, since it was her Shaman, whom she regularly consults. Apparently it was a quick session. Selenge tried to give the Shaman a bit of Baaskaa’s back-story, but he just waved her off. He looked at Baaskaa for a long time until Baaskaa could feel a strange heat flowing through his body.
The Shaman confirmed that Baaskaa was on the right path. He said that he’d be fine, that he’d have a wonderful life if he keeps focusing on his goals, but he’d have to be careful not to be eaten up by his anger. His anger and wish for revenge would take over if he’d not control and tame it.
I was very surprised, but Baaskaa understood what the Shaman meant, and admitted that he was very angry.
At occasions I had seen his anger flare up, particular at the beginning of our relationship, towards me and now towards Byambaa, but that anger was either a tool of self-protection, or a result of disappointment.
When I came for the second time to Mongolia, I picked two more children I'd be responsible for, which disappointed Baaskaa. It made him feel he was just part of a program, rather then an individual that got chosen. As for Byambaa, Baaskaa felt disappointed lately because he became insecure about his status within Byambaa’s family. Was he a family member, which is what he had believed for the last three years or was he just a mere farm hand?
To me it’s obvious that anger can be a powerful tool of protection and a strong reaction to emotional pain and disappointment and Baaskaa had plenty of reasons to be disappointed. Unfortunately he thinks anger is simply bad and undesirable.
He described his anger as a sleeping lion, who lies in a hidden cave of his heart. After the Shaman visit he promised himself to make sure that the lion will stay in the cave, undisturbed.
I on the other hand, can’t wait for the lion to announce his presence with a loud roar!
For more information on Shamanism and Buddhism:
http://www.mongoliatourism.org/mongolia-introduction/religions-mongolia.html
Saturday, June 4, 2011
Evaluation
After attending three and a half days in a private school Baaskaa’s level of education was evaluated.
Based on performance in class and homework, his knowledge and use of the Mongolian language is assessed as fourth grade level, while his math skills are assessed as seventh grade level.
Baaskaa is very embarrassed about these results. As he puts it, he’s 19 years old and has an education level of a 10 to 12 year old. It had been difficult to convince him that being evaluated will be helpful in the future. I tried to make him understand that the knowledge will give him the power to act and change things – not necessarily something a 19 year old fully appreciates or understands. But I think somehow he is glad he did it. He acted more embarrassed then he really was.
He didn’t have the luxury to go to school, not for a single day in 16 years, yet he learned how to read, write and solve math problems entirely by himself, without anyone motivating him! For that and what it stands for I am incredibly proud of him.
His tutor is creating a long-term program, which he can complete online, while at work. The goal is to bring him up to eighth grade level in both subjects and prepare him for his middle school diploma. I am not sure how long it will take Baaskaa if he works full time, but at least we have a plan.
This kid could do what ever he wants, if only we could take care of the basics. I keep telling him and encourage him to look at opportunities and possibilities he never had the luxury to consider. He listens intently, but stays skeptical. One day I will get through to him.
Based on performance in class and homework, his knowledge and use of the Mongolian language is assessed as fourth grade level, while his math skills are assessed as seventh grade level.
Baaskaa is very embarrassed about these results. As he puts it, he’s 19 years old and has an education level of a 10 to 12 year old. It had been difficult to convince him that being evaluated will be helpful in the future. I tried to make him understand that the knowledge will give him the power to act and change things – not necessarily something a 19 year old fully appreciates or understands. But I think somehow he is glad he did it. He acted more embarrassed then he really was.
He didn’t have the luxury to go to school, not for a single day in 16 years, yet he learned how to read, write and solve math problems entirely by himself, without anyone motivating him! For that and what it stands for I am incredibly proud of him.
His tutor is creating a long-term program, which he can complete online, while at work. The goal is to bring him up to eighth grade level in both subjects and prepare him for his middle school diploma. I am not sure how long it will take Baaskaa if he works full time, but at least we have a plan.
This kid could do what ever he wants, if only we could take care of the basics. I keep telling him and encourage him to look at opportunities and possibilities he never had the luxury to consider. He listens intently, but stays skeptical. One day I will get through to him.
Saturday, May 21, 2011
Solving math problems with Nasa
Every day I am doing homework with Nasa. I try to enlist Baaskaa every so often, but without much luck.
I can’t blame him. He spent one long evening trying to explain and solve her math problems. Nasa was all over the place and tried to wiggle her way out of homework by being funny and entertaining, but Baaskaa never gave up or lost his patience. Steadily and firmly he brought her attention back to her notebook and no matter how many times she came to a wrong conclusion, he went back to the beginning, until she got it right.
They started her homework after we ate dinner. By 11:30pm they successfully had all math problems solved.
I learned from watching; now we start before dinner.☺
Reading and writing went smoothly and math became easier with time. I developed a system of demonstrating addition by using sugar cubes and I bought a colorful counting book for preschoolers, which visualized numbers through images of fruit. When I ripped the book apart to hang the single pages on the wall, Nasa got incredible excited. I think this was the most excited I have ever seen her; something was added to the house that was just for her.
Things were groovy and moved along. And then the teacher introduced her to subtraction.
Nasa couldn’t comprehend why you would take something away, in theory, when it was obviously physically still there. We had x amount of sugar cubes and I pretended I would take them away, when they clearly were in my hand. It just didn’t make sense to her.
And I found no way of explaining it. These are the moments when it really becomes frustrating that we don’t have a common language. But it wasn’t just a language issue, Baaskaa tried too (half heartedly, I admit), and couldn’t explain it to her either. Pointing a camera at her wasn’t really helping the cause. At some point I had to put the film maker in me on the back burner and asked Blake to stop shooting, in the hope that it would make her feel less pressured. But it was too late, by now I had lost my patience and Nasa was muttering complains while shooting the sugar cubes from one end of the table to the other.
I felt awful and helpless. There was something about subtraction, that she couldn’t comprehend and I couldn’t figure out how to break that barrier. What do you do in a situation like that?
The next morning I apologized to the teacher for not having completed the homework (yes, I gave up!) and asked her to explain subtraction again.
That evening Nasa and I started all over again, without camera. Sadly it turned into a repetition of the previous evening. Except that this time no one dared to enter the kitchen anymore.
What do you do, if you can’t explain something as simple as 5 – 3 = 2?
I can’t blame him. He spent one long evening trying to explain and solve her math problems. Nasa was all over the place and tried to wiggle her way out of homework by being funny and entertaining, but Baaskaa never gave up or lost his patience. Steadily and firmly he brought her attention back to her notebook and no matter how many times she came to a wrong conclusion, he went back to the beginning, until she got it right.
They started her homework after we ate dinner. By 11:30pm they successfully had all math problems solved.
I learned from watching; now we start before dinner.☺
Reading and writing went smoothly and math became easier with time. I developed a system of demonstrating addition by using sugar cubes and I bought a colorful counting book for preschoolers, which visualized numbers through images of fruit. When I ripped the book apart to hang the single pages on the wall, Nasa got incredible excited. I think this was the most excited I have ever seen her; something was added to the house that was just for her.
Things were groovy and moved along. And then the teacher introduced her to subtraction.
Nasa couldn’t comprehend why you would take something away, in theory, when it was obviously physically still there. We had x amount of sugar cubes and I pretended I would take them away, when they clearly were in my hand. It just didn’t make sense to her.
And I found no way of explaining it. These are the moments when it really becomes frustrating that we don’t have a common language. But it wasn’t just a language issue, Baaskaa tried too (half heartedly, I admit), and couldn’t explain it to her either. Pointing a camera at her wasn’t really helping the cause. At some point I had to put the film maker in me on the back burner and asked Blake to stop shooting, in the hope that it would make her feel less pressured. But it was too late, by now I had lost my patience and Nasa was muttering complains while shooting the sugar cubes from one end of the table to the other.
I felt awful and helpless. There was something about subtraction, that she couldn’t comprehend and I couldn’t figure out how to break that barrier. What do you do in a situation like that?
The next morning I apologized to the teacher for not having completed the homework (yes, I gave up!) and asked her to explain subtraction again.
That evening Nasa and I started all over again, without camera. Sadly it turned into a repetition of the previous evening. Except that this time no one dared to enter the kitchen anymore.
What do you do, if you can’t explain something as simple as 5 – 3 = 2?
Sunday, May 15, 2011
Nasa discovers the power of images
Nasa is getting quite adventurous during this trip.
While staying with Baaskaa, Bennie and me, Nasa developed a natural curiosity. At first she stuck to the script, telling us what she thought we expected to hear. But when she got to listen to Baaska and Bennie mapping out their future and complaining about their situation, she went silent. It was a curious silence. When I asked her what her dream was she looked quite startled, “No one ever asked me what I wanted!”
Because she started to learn how to read and write, she began looking at her environment differently.
Tired of Baaskaa’s and my cooking, she wanted to cook for herself. It took me a moment to realize that she didn’t understand the meaning of the numbers on the knobs of our electrical cooking plate. She just switched it on and off randomly, because she had seen us doing it. The concept that the temperature would increase with the corresponding number, 0-off and 4-the hottest, was foreign to her. It sounds silly, but when you think about it, someone must have explained to me how to use numerology in my daily life. Just because she could count from 1 to 10 didn’t mean she understands the larger concept of numbers.
From the very beginning Nasa experienced me with a camera permanently attached to my hand. This shiny expensive looking black object was so out of her realm that she just ignored it throughout the years. Out of the blue, she picked up my ‘point & shoot’ Lumix and fired away. At first she went crazy with it, but then she actually started to look at the pictures and adjusted her angles and compositions. (She ignored the exposure time, which makes her pictures more beautiful to me).
I loved it and tried to pose for her, but she wouldn’t have it. She had learnt from me, as I always asked the kids to be themselves and ignore the camera. Tough concept in Mongolia, people only take pictures when dressed up and on special occasions. The idea of candid photography is still a foreign one.
I was so proud of her running around the apartment and snapping pictures of everything that she deemed important. At first she was shy, taking pictures of objects only, but then she became brave and photographed us – well, mainly Baaskaa and his friends.
I adore Nasa's self portrait, of all her images it's my favorite.
While staying with Baaskaa, Bennie and me, Nasa developed a natural curiosity. At first she stuck to the script, telling us what she thought we expected to hear. But when she got to listen to Baaska and Bennie mapping out their future and complaining about their situation, she went silent. It was a curious silence. When I asked her what her dream was she looked quite startled, “No one ever asked me what I wanted!”
Because she started to learn how to read and write, she began looking at her environment differently.
Tired of Baaskaa’s and my cooking, she wanted to cook for herself. It took me a moment to realize that she didn’t understand the meaning of the numbers on the knobs of our electrical cooking plate. She just switched it on and off randomly, because she had seen us doing it. The concept that the temperature would increase with the corresponding number, 0-off and 4-the hottest, was foreign to her. It sounds silly, but when you think about it, someone must have explained to me how to use numerology in my daily life. Just because she could count from 1 to 10 didn’t mean she understands the larger concept of numbers.
From the very beginning Nasa experienced me with a camera permanently attached to my hand. This shiny expensive looking black object was so out of her realm that she just ignored it throughout the years. Out of the blue, she picked up my ‘point & shoot’ Lumix and fired away. At first she went crazy with it, but then she actually started to look at the pictures and adjusted her angles and compositions. (She ignored the exposure time, which makes her pictures more beautiful to me).
I loved it and tried to pose for her, but she wouldn’t have it. She had learnt from me, as I always asked the kids to be themselves and ignore the camera. Tough concept in Mongolia, people only take pictures when dressed up and on special occasions. The idea of candid photography is still a foreign one.
I was so proud of her running around the apartment and snapping pictures of everything that she deemed important. At first she was shy, taking pictures of objects only, but then she became brave and photographed us – well, mainly Baaskaa and his friends.
I adore Nasa's self portrait, of all her images it's my favorite.
Friday, May 13, 2011
Leaving Bennie behind
The day has come; Bennie has to return to the country, while Baaskaa stays the city.
Most of the time Bennie was a quiet by-stander while in UB. He participated somewhat, but mostly from the sidelines. In his defense, we were so busy with schooling Nasa and finding a job for Baaskaa that there wasn’t much room left. Often we had to leave him waiting in the apartment, while we were out and about, getting things done.
At the moment he isn’t all that happy in the countryside even so he loves the live and handling animals. Like Baaskaa, he feels that while in the country he has no choices. To avoid feeling trapped and expand his skills he decided to start vocational training in the fall of 2011. But due to new regulations he needs an eight-grade diploma in order to enroll in Naleikh.
I will have to figure out a whole new set of issues. We need to properly evaluate Bennie’s level of education and hire a private tutor to bring him up to speed to eight’ grade. While in school in UB he needs to live somewhere with supervision. I am not sure how to organize and finance all that, but thank goodness I have a bit of practice facing these difficulties.
While returning Bennie to the farm, we informed Byambaa about Baaskaa’s job opportunities. Byambaa was happy for Baaskaa, but sad to see him go. Live in the country can become quite lonely and they had spent the last three years together. Over time Baaskaa had become more like a partner then a son.
When it was time to say good-bye to Bennie, everyone tried to keep it light and short. Bennie waved and without much ado he went back to work.
I imagine it has been hard for the boys to separate, they had spent two years together, the last one 24/7. They shared a bed and embraced each other during the night. They leaned on each other, encouraged each other and exchanged their secrets, fears and hopes.
Yet, both of them have encountered so many people come and go throughout their short lives. Some they’ll meet again, others they won’t. They don’t have the luxury to cry about their losses if they want survive them. First I followed Baaskaa’s lead and made a joke while saying good-bye, but then I couldn’t help it, I hugged Bennie and promised I’d be back. Then I turned around and got into the car, without looking back.
Most of the time Bennie was a quiet by-stander while in UB. He participated somewhat, but mostly from the sidelines. In his defense, we were so busy with schooling Nasa and finding a job for Baaskaa that there wasn’t much room left. Often we had to leave him waiting in the apartment, while we were out and about, getting things done.
At the moment he isn’t all that happy in the countryside even so he loves the live and handling animals. Like Baaskaa, he feels that while in the country he has no choices. To avoid feeling trapped and expand his skills he decided to start vocational training in the fall of 2011. But due to new regulations he needs an eight-grade diploma in order to enroll in Naleikh.
I will have to figure out a whole new set of issues. We need to properly evaluate Bennie’s level of education and hire a private tutor to bring him up to speed to eight’ grade. While in school in UB he needs to live somewhere with supervision. I am not sure how to organize and finance all that, but thank goodness I have a bit of practice facing these difficulties.
While returning Bennie to the farm, we informed Byambaa about Baaskaa’s job opportunities. Byambaa was happy for Baaskaa, but sad to see him go. Live in the country can become quite lonely and they had spent the last three years together. Over time Baaskaa had become more like a partner then a son.
When it was time to say good-bye to Bennie, everyone tried to keep it light and short. Bennie waved and without much ado he went back to work.
I imagine it has been hard for the boys to separate, they had spent two years together, the last one 24/7. They shared a bed and embraced each other during the night. They leaned on each other, encouraged each other and exchanged their secrets, fears and hopes.
Yet, both of them have encountered so many people come and go throughout their short lives. Some they’ll meet again, others they won’t. They don’t have the luxury to cry about their losses if they want survive them. First I followed Baaskaa’s lead and made a joke while saying good-bye, but then I couldn’t help it, I hugged Bennie and promised I’d be back. Then I turned around and got into the car, without looking back.
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