Children, movies and empathy

Here's an extract from a diary entry from two years ago:
I watched two films with my (older) son over the Lunar New Year break. Blood Diamond and Wit. For a seven year-old, it was a little heavy going for a choice and he was way below the age rating but they were on at a time when we happen to have some time together and I was able to explain things right then and there.
Turns out both films started us on a journey of deep discussion-one about poverty, child soldiers, war and killing for a cause; second about death, illness, regrets and eventually euthanasia. We have talked about death since he was four years old, mainly because I didn't want him to fear it but to understand how it makes people feel and it's ok to have these feelings, rather than be afraid of it and avoid it. And these films, under some careful remote control rewinds and fast forwards, let us do that more deeply.
I love films in that they create space fo people to talk about ideas and concepts. They bridge gaps as well as bringing shared experienes together. My most significant experiences and moments with my dad have been through films. Having grown up apart we had a somewhat limited history, and didn't really know how to react and be with each other. I presume it was very much the same for my younger brother also. We ended up bonding over films as children. Our memories of being together and having a laugh are in most cases entrenched in some form of movie scenes and quotes. Ronin and  A Long Kiss Goodnight were favourites. Rush Hour and Bean guaranteed laughs. Perhaps because of this I take to heart messages of movies and carry it with me in all aspects of my life. The stories, the characters, the situations and behaviours in many films I've seen with my dad have always stayed, and those I've seen without him, I still wonder today what he would have thought of them. I was, and am today in some ways, always trying to figure out any truths from a move with hope that it would offer some guidance in my real life. As romanticising as it may be, I always felt that films had the answer to everything.
And so, when I suddenly realised that I was able to talk to my son about issues that were real and significant through the medium of a movie I have an awesome sense of completeness  where I was, able to connect with my child on a new level via something that I feel deeply and strongly about-the magic of movies. I only hope he remains curious and courageous about life because he was able to begin to explore all its complexities through movies, with his mum.

The reason I remembered this entry from two years ago and dug it out to re-read and write it here was I have recently been rolling around in my head several thoughts, and today it all seemed to tie in together. Over the last few months I have been a part-time teacher at home for my boys and it has brought up some challenges, but more importantly, even more joy. My older son goes to a school that predominantly speak English. As much as people are objecting to the inability of Mongolian children to speak their native language, or the judgement upon parents of these children, I still maintain that I made the right decision to teach my son English and speak it at home also. Mind, there has been serious concerns over the years about whether this was the right decision, many fuelled by peer pressure or parental pressure more like. But now I feel rather confident that we'll be alright and here's why:
My children are able to take in and digest information and knowledge that is appropriate but also expected at their age. Mongolian books, songs, TV shows etc are so limited in their expression or variety that if he didn't speak English I would be unable to fill that gap by myself. And being an international langauge, I say let's give them an advantage where we can. Secondly, having been brought up in a predominantly English society I rather like the the idea of and look forward to the ability to share with him many of the pop culture, history and experiences that I can relate to. And here's where my mind has been circulating-is it more important to maintain native language and history in order to identify as one thing or is it more important to embrace whatever forms of expression in order to identify with people, full stop.

Instead of forcing each other to identify to a concept of, say, a family or a community, what if we just allow each other to identify to each other first. And if two people are able to identify with each other, no matter through what medium, let that be. Whether it’s a mixed up language, common experiences or even movies. And if embraced, this ability for us as people to identify with each other on a global scale today is what will maintain our humanity. We want to raise children of this earth as humane beings that love, respect and accept each other, no matter what tools they use, be it social media, messages, FaceTime, emails, phone calls, visits, shared meals or even quarrels. An unfortunately the society that I live in today is lacking these options for young children to be able to understand empathy and humanity, especially when they spend such significant part of their growing in lockdown. The movies, music and community understandings does not go beyond their immediate circles like family or school. To be able to look beyond your surroundings and look out into the world to try and understand it, children need to be able to see, hear and understand first and find their own particular ways of participating. And despite the question from family, friends and even random strangers about why I choose to speak English with my sons, I still stand by my decision. Because it allows them that window into an even wider world of understading, information and ideas. When your children start to grow up and start to look around themselves, beyond you as a parent for affirmation, support, information and understanding, the music they are able to listen to, the books they are able to read, the movies they are able to watch become ever more important.

This post today is a mixture of thoughts I have had rolling around in my head for a few years now. Thoughts on raising my children, the language we choose, the topics we discuss, the ideas I want them to feel out, and the history we have lived through before they were even born. 

I watched History 101 today on Netflix. And I know that I will watch the series again with my older son later because I see how much he is able to learn from these facts, and what kind of platform it opens up for us to talk even more and share ideas. And I so wish that more and more children are able to have such an access, no matter how insignificant it may seem, to allow for parents to have conversations with their children that are beyond their everyday, or even about the everyday but in the context of the world. And having lived through the last few months in lockdown, I wish Mongolian children do not have to watch TV programmes everyday in order to get an education. I wish that Mongolian children are able to pick and choose science, art and humanity topics when they look for YouTube videos in Mongolian. I wish that Mongolian children can go to cinemas and watch movies that are dubbed perfectly into Mongolian, rather than sitting their struggling to understand and feeling ashamed to admit that they did not understand. I wish that Mongolian children are able to read books about our true history, especially modern history, without the embellishments and nostalgia that tints almost all fiction and even school textbooks. I wish we can all learn empathy by looking beyond ourselves. I wish for so many things.

My son said...

My son said “you’ve hurt me. Don’t do it again” the other day. A four year old can recognize when they’ve been hurt and is taking action about it. Got me thinking…when and how do adults express this so straightforward??? When your child is small any/many parents will spend hours and hours thinking about how to bring them up, their behaviour, their discipline, the outcome. Wondering if they’re doing it right? Wondering if they really should do everything differently from their parents. Wondering what to do when things are obviously not going so well. And also wondering if they are over reacting. Having a child(ren) can be the most exhausting, expensive and yet a very thorough therapy session of your life, and it will just keep going.

The biggest issues I feel are around discipline and punishment, as well as reward and encouragement. You can (if you can afford it) adopt all the best eating habits and lifstyles, find the best schools, dress them in organic cotton and make sure they do not watch too much TV. But when it comes to the soft stuff, I’m pretty certain that parents have A LOT to say, and many contradicting each other. And yes, all the self help books say: do what feels right for you and your child. But like I already said, all the wondering questions do not answer themselves.

Every parent would probably say that ‘this is the toughest age’ at any and all ages, because it really is. But obviously at some point any sane person would let the reigns go a bit and relax, and bathe in their glorious achievement of having reared a decent human being, even if it is only through their eyes. But until then, you are constantly coaxing, moulding, altering, patting your kid to the best possible form. And that includes punishment for wrong doings. And I got thinking, with my four year old son, I know exactly how to handle some tricky situations because there quite a bit of literature out there already. The ‘tantrum years', 'the fire child, water child method', the 'time out method' etc etc. And I have so far come to a somewheat customized amalgamation of these versions and more based on everything I could get my hands on for my son. But what I’m worried about more is, what happens when he ages beyond the age bands of self help books that seem abundant but do not fill that gap up until the doomed teenage years? And what's worse, beyond?  Traditionally, as soon as the teenage years have gone by the kid is an ‘adult’ and therefore should be capable of all the adult things in the world: safe sex, driving, owning a credit card without going crazy, getting an education, finding and getting a job, functioning within society without getting arrested etc. But if we look at all the non-lethal problems we have in our society, I’m pretty sure that people still makes mistakes, even after they’ve turned 16, left home, and/or become an ‘adult.’ And what happens then? Who disciplines them? Who teaches them? Because I know that I still make horrendous mistakes. And so does everyone else. But who punishes me? Who tells me that I should’ve have known better? Or  to learn from our mistakes? Where's our guide??

Being a child of the 90s and 00s I read a lot of what I know now, what I have come to learn and have come to expect from magazines. We were the generation that grew up on self help books and magazine columns. Some may think 'parents' are the obvious answer to the source of great wisdom through a series of good bollocking but few are lucky enough to actually get sound bollocking that are actually helpful in real life and on playgrounds. Whereas the majority of the generation would roll our eyes and shrug, continue to devour the cheap but accessible words, that would unite us at a later time in life through a sense of eternal optimism despite the constant dissillusionment and disappointment.

Why disapointment? Because we’re all continuing to make mistakes well into 'adulthood' even though we have supposedly been brought up on a diet of self help books and guides. Why disillusionment? Because we expect our children to expedition through life in an adult’s body, with adult’s thoughts, with adult expections and projectons, with adult responsibilities, when their discipline learning has stopped at childhoood. God forbid, I still need to be disciplined sometimes. I can’t get through a day’s work in the office without checking my FB account once or stick to this little blog continiously! When it comes to self discipline and the basics like honesty, not stealing, etc etc I’m sure most people are capable of walking through adulthood without breaking rules. But what about the problems that arise outside of childhood, in adulthood, where you don’t know if you’ve done something bad, let alone how to remedy it? In some ways I've come to think that in order to discipline myself, be more productive and not err on the edge of wrong doing, however white or small, I just need to follow a diffferent type of punshiment. The fear that my children will grow up 'bad' by watching me, which is every parent's nightmare. Discipline by doing. And most importantly discipline both parent and child by admitting when they are wrong. And so our generation, at least, have this option to save their children by saving their souls.

*this blog was first written in 2016 but never edited until today. you can sense the frentic panic of suddenly realising the inevitableness of having to raise actual walking, talking, thinking human(s).

What makes a Bridge?

There are several bridges in the capital city of Mongolia but none has that presence and unchallenged claim to the name ‘the bridge’ but our Peace Bridge. Built in 1963 by Soviet structural engineers, this structure has been part of our urban landscape for 56 years, connecting the north and south sides of a river that runs through our city. In the last 10-15 years this ‘connection’ has become symbolic of a disconnect between our social structure too. The movement towards a city where our wealth gap is ever widening, inspiring films as well as slang that bring forward conversations about the rich and the poor, with terms such as 'over the bridge' or 'beyond the bridge' referencing to the wealthier residents in the south.

Since our transition to a market economy and a democratic society in 1991 and onwards the rapid changes we see in Mongolia, and especially in Ulaanbaatar has been incomparable to any other post-Soviet society. Well, this is my personal opinion, and I’m sure residents of cities such as Prague, Sofia, Kiev et al will have more to say if asked. However, from my experience of having lived here for the last 11 years, it has never failed to amaze me how fast the cycle of construction, movement, trends as well as, unfortunate in some cases, opinions and policies spin around us. One major change we see very much visibly is the level of traffic and congestion from cars on the road. And although this is a topic that has several volumes of text owed to it, one small aspect of it is my desire to talk about how bridges are in the mix.

I believe that Bridges should and does transcend the practicalities of what a bridge is supposed to deliver from an engineering perspective. The way Peace Bridge does that so beautifully shows what our other recent additions to the city does not, so painfully. In illustration, my frequent walks from home to work and vice versa over Peace Bridge turns a short 20 min walk into a joyful experience where I can feel like I’m part of a city, of a public space that recognize my movement as its living and breathing part. The fact that the pathway that run alongside the car road has no barriers or barricades creates a feeling of transparency and openness which strangely enough lends a sense of safety and connection more than fear and danger. Then there are the structures built along the bridge that are like majestic atriums, where people can stop for a rest, meet a date, take selfies or just wander around in and make their own. Even though many people perceive these atriums as abandoned and/or dirty spots, the fact that people walk over the bridge everyday at every waking hour prevents it from becoming a crime magnet or a place of neglect, and instead they become small hidden parts of a city that doesn’t have to belong to anyone. This juxtaposition of elements is one of the unexplainable ways design can make a space. And this space over Peace Bridge is one that I wish was studied more and attempted to, not replicate but, recreated in other parts of the city where more and more bridges are necessary.

In contrast, in an effort to combat traffic and congestion, and increase mobility, the couple of new bridges that were built in the last few years are of entirely different species. Questions of whether they have been successful in their primary concerns still remain open to discussion, however for the sake of talking about their design, their place in our urban landscape and their presence on a larger scale leaves much to be desired. When an overpass is built, that is exactly what it is. Some may have extra space for hard shoulders, some lanes for cyclists, and some very generous ones have pedestrian space albeit close off with tall metal fences. But when all the elements of a Bridge are stripped back to its bare minimum of just performing its most basic purpose, the entire experience of using that bridge/overpass becomes a little sad.

There is a massive difference between a Bridge and a bridge. In a literal sense the way it looks, performs and costs cannot be ignored, however in a figurative sense they can be used to also explain and contrast the way we as urban residents should look at how we want to communicate with each other. Do we want to live, work, play and grow in a place that does the bare minimum, seeking results, hastening our progress, or do we want to ask for and demand places of experience, joy, connection, awe and dreams? Essentially, we want to live in a humane city and be able to tell our stories and help build the next stories, be the bridges to our future.

‘It’s bad luck to wear more than one hat’ a Mongolian saying.

There is a saying in Mongolian that it’s bad luck to double-wear a hat, as in on top of each other, at the same time. And as hat season is approaching this has been on my mind for a while, which eventually led to my workaholic mind thinking of, what else but, work. And it was a good way of dissecting my current work situation. Operating at various levels of management simultaneously is a challenge I did not anticipate and was not prepared for. Although I have had experiences of starting a project or a venture from scratch, building it up and scaling it somewhat, and sustaining it for some time, remembering how to think and carry out certain tasks according to what stage the project or venture is at is turning out to be a challenge. Just like choosing which hat to wear and when, but more importantly knowing when to take off which.

Let me elaborate. When I started working in Mongolia way back in 2008 and was tasked with establishing an NGO and setting up pretty much everything necessary to run it my mindset was pretty simple. Do everything yourself, and do it well. Because there was nobody else. I would be learning how to formulate letters and documents to comparing car spare parts prices at the market, and everything else in between which included being a tour guide to our rally teams, talking to customs people about vehicle imports at our Western border crossings, meeting with child protection NGO staff to establish new projects, visit orphanages to understand what is a realistic way to help, give workshops to horse trainers about why it’s important children do not miss school, and designing certificates and trophies for people who make it to Mongolia in one piece. Working at all levels was tough but also meant there was no ‘management’ necessary.

Later on, when I started working in a small team at an international company with more people, managing expectations, skills and internal politics also taught me ways of working at a different level, where work load sharing became an important understanding. When there are more cooks are in the kitchen coordination, communication and schedules can become crucial to getting things done. At this point I would say I learnt my strengths and weaknesses, and in an effort to accomplish tasks at hand, accepting the things I cannot do, or at least well, meant I had to know when to listen more. This was especially important for me because I was continuing to struggle with local knowledge, some cultural aspects that glue local staff together, on top of trying to adopt the culture of our Japanese investment company and their country.

Eventually, when I starting working at a higher management level at another company this workload sharing became a way to be more practical because I would start to learn to delegate tasks towards my team and focus on those only I can do, or better yet, that no one can do. So smaller, yet still significant, tasks were allocated and then checked. Challenges that arose here was facing external forces that would be important part of our operation. Local authorities, organisations and agencies that would approve permits and certificates. Many meetings and appointments were with people who took their cues from the way we appeared, or what we said or what was insinuated. And in the case of Mongolia, gauging what a phone conversation meant, or how many people to take into a meeting, who would knock on the door of which officer all turned into almost a kind of game. 

Executive level is another step up but I have struggled quite a bit here because I was still somewhat in a mental state of getting things done myself, and paying attention to smaller details, and not allowing myself to relax and take a deep breath and look at the bigger picture. Furthermore, the idea of giving tasks and ‘orders’ as some Mongolian executives would say, made me feel squeamish and a little embarrassed sometimes, especially if your subordinate was much older than you. Navigating the linguistic mine field of saying ‘та’ but also giving out tasks, and in many cases, reprimanding and then correcting a course of work had me feeling all sorts of uncomfortableness. I am someone who respect our customs of addressing older people properly and I’m sure there are many people who struggle with this too. Besides the internal issues, expanding my mindset at this level has been liberating when working because it can align nicely with your thoughts if you are a naturally optimistic person. You feel anything and everything is possible, and that is a blessing and a curse in disguise. Because what happens when you are going through some crap in your personal life and are just not in that mood to lead and encourage your team every morning?

And all these questions and issues pose the greatest challenge when you start it all yourself and have to become the tasker, the team player, the manager and the executive at the same time. There are bookshops full of books on starting your own business and the challenges and the ‘secrets’ to doing it well, and I have read some but not enough. What I have been rolling around in my head recently is the particular challenge of being an executive whilst starting a new project, whilst managing an older venture. It may not be a smart way to live and work but I love it no matter what so it’s not a question of whether it’s too much, just a matter of how to do it well. And one step I have been learning to take very slowly and sometimes without much confidence is knowing when to put on which hat during the heavily loaded work day where decisions have to be made quickly at various levels of thinking.

At the new project I really must get into the nitty gritty of the work at hand and be completely immersed and comfortable with the task at hand.  At management level of my business I need to be thinking of ways to push the business forward and look at the numbers closely. At executive level of my job I must be looking out for my team, the direction of the company and ways to improve current situation-must be growth oriented. Oh, and at the team player level-have to keep in mind being open to new things, discussions and making decisions together. This is my weekly family meeting time around the dinner table with my boys. So perhaps, the old saying has many truths because double-wearing a hat won’t be practical at best, costly at worst. However, if you’ve weathered enough cold and hot seasons, knowing how and when to swap them around is the only way to look forward to each new day.

My summer of...

Reading a New Year magazine on mindfulness, listening to a New Year podcast on time management, at the end of a New Me trip. Not exactly what I had imagine myself to be doing on a bus, which later broke down in the middle of a no-signal steppe beside a volcanic crater for seven hours, ferrying 40 odd people from all over the world towards our capital city Ulaanbaatar. This was the last leg of my summer month-an unexpectadly insightful and educational trip around the countryside attending a fieldschool on energy transition in Mongolia, that ended up becoming my personal transitional experience.

The fieldschool is a unique experience, organised for the first time by the American Center for Mongolian Studies based in UB, in combining scientific research, knowledge, on the ground study and learning of a particular subject in a particular place. In this case the study of the energy situation in Mongolia as an infrastructural and economic issue as well as being an environmental and development dilemma. The experience of being taught the technical side of various renewable and non-renewable energy options in its location gives a complete experience of the magnitude of the problems we face today as a country, and what that means for us in the future. Although, we were tasked with individual projects as part of the school experience to further our understanding and possibly take action in our own professional ways (mine was in no way related to my profession but has become a follow-up to an avenue that I had started on eight years ago and will hopefully take up again) my personal experience of the trip has taken me beyond my expectations.

The prelude to this post should actually start as 'MyWinter of...' because I went on a trip last December which came at the most fortuitious time for me personally. This trip helped me transform my life following a particularly challenging time that summer, and it gave me back my confidence to not especially 'run the world' but definitely to realise my worth. It may sound like a cliche in this time and age to become sentimental about 'transformations' and 'self-worth' especially on a blog, but with more life lived and understanding that more is yet to come, perhaps you start to listen to those whispers and recognise that feeling in you about the changes you're finally going through. Which in my case was really about learning to embrace your abilities and experiences, and owning up to your visions and dreams.

So, ambiguity aside, this second trip from this summer has given me another opportunity to learn again, carve out some space to breathe and think, meet interesting and awe inspiring people, have loads of fun laughing in nature, swimming in lakes and travelling through histories. It has brought me full circle to a place and time in my life where I am no longer afraid to make plans going forward, and feeling brave enough to become steady and solid. I found that it's in fact easy to be wistful, contemplative and carefree in tough times-a way to avoid emotions by just dancing around it. It is much harder to decide to become resolute. In the time between last December and this July I have floated, mingled and dabbled because I now realise I needed that time to just stumble around a bit, stretching my legs. In this time I have learnt a great many things, made stupid decisions and faced ugly situations. But I still refused to steady myself because I was worried I would go and get stuck on the wrong thing, again. Some people believe in making haste and adapting quickly to solve matters of the heart because it will hurt less, but I believe in taking the time to recognise my weaknesses and feel the pain, to better build my resilience for the future.

The infamous magazine I mentioned was simple in its message: take care of yourself.
The podcast by a talented friend was helpful in its reminder: make plans.
And the new me is forgiving in its past mistakes: take one day at a time, and laugh more.

They sing what a difference a day makes, and I write what a difference a year makes. I guess I was about seven months behind schedule in my mind and heart clock and this fast forward has finally brought me up to my present, albeit via a path unexpected but fully embraced at every turn.

Photo credit: Janis Michael

Bag Lady

'How do you juggle it all?' I think more women are asked this question, especially since they become mothers (let's not get onto whether father's get asked this...) than at any other chapter in their lives. And I used to think that when you become a mother, or a 'grown-up' you just have to get on with it and juggle those damn balls faster and with less accidental drops. And that's what I struggled with for a long time. Trying to be the person that picks up more balls, juggles non-stop, and refuse to put a few down. For someone who has been earning my own keep since I finished school, working at whatever chance I got, signing up for the volunteering, and looking around for people to talk to and causes I can join, being open to any new conversations and connections, always ready to consider an offer or an option even if it doesn't come to anything, this willingness can be seen as being pushy or a pushover, being active or even a doormat.

In the culmination of all some of my thoughts, experiences, mistakes and wins I have in a very long and winded way come onto a path in the last few months that seems to be working for me for now.
This concept of 'juggling' is long dead and gone, in the past. For someone who has chosen to go ahead in life as a single parent juggling is just too risky. Too fickle. You cannot be juggling rocks your whole life. And juggling does not give you enough stick to really appreciate your days and times fully. Instead I have come upon a new concept for myself.

My bag concept. Carrying a full bag of shit that we do not need alongside those things we do genuinely need is too crowded. Learning to fill it with the right things for myself as well as for those around you is the skill I need to learn now.
For a long time I had the JUST IN CASE BAG, which has everything in it. Work and business being in debt, staff that you are blocking out, children and their right to an attentive parent, money and the lack of it, ideas and how they cause you sleepless nights, friends and the ones you cannot reach out to, family and the siblings you miss, housekeeping and the smelly sofa you cannot replace, pet cats and broken promises, self confidence and the excess weight, society and how more children are living in poverty. More a suitcase really. And the problem is the carrier of this bag can be mistaken for being all together and on top of it all, especially to themselves, when in fact she is straining and struggling underneath it all.
To be honest I still have this bag with me, albeit recently my back (my literal and physical back) gave away and had to see the doctor who said I need to stop carrying so much on my back. But this is life for many other people too and I realised we have to learn to see things for what they are, and so I have devised a small list of steps to use as a guideline for myself, which is ofcourse completely open to use and misuse.

Clean out your bag regularly because you don't need to be carrying useless things
Don't let it overflow but fill it with things you need and WANT
Let others carry your bag for you from time to time because they need to experience what you carry everyday
Bandages, tissues, hair bands, snacks are life's little things that make the hard times less painful, especially for those around you so don't underestimate their importance
Don't throw out a bag when they get tired. Have a small roster of bags to let them rest and mend.
Don't buy a bag without thinking about it very carefully. No-returns policy should be applied here.
Having said that, mistaken choices can be made. Don't cry over it.
And in the end if it's just not working out...find a different bag MENTALITY and know which to carry when.
For example:
THE CHILDREN TROLLEY because we don't have to carry them all the time, just give it a gentle push or a tug in the right direction
THE IDEAS SACK because they come in all shapes and sizes
THE CAREER TOTE because they need to perform but not define you
THE FUN CLUTCH because never lose a sense of joy in your life by swinging a colourful and pretty thing from you hands from time to time
THE INNER HOBO because you collect and pick up things from life and people around you everyday, doesn't have to mean much or they can be the inspiration you need
THE FAMILY SHOPPER because they come in all shapes and sizes and numbers, and you need them to carry your stuff
THE FRIENDSHIP FANNY PACK because they don't always look great or go with every outfit but they hold all your essentials and you'd be lost without them
THE PUNCH BAG because you don't want to really punch people but you need to release that frustration

Like the saying, if you are not happy where you are, move, you are not a tree. If your bag is overwhelming you, empty it and carry only the things you can, want or need. Do something about it but recognise that sometimes your life changes and so should your bag. Yes, people are not bags (even though some can feel like the punching sort, in which case see above point) or the heavy and dragging kind of contents of a bag either but like I said before, we have to learn to see things for what they are. Recognising what those around you are carrying is also useful here.
And very lastly, sometimes you just need to put that bag down. Like today, when I had this moment in time of just hanging out with myself, writing, drinking coffee and listening to Jeff Buckley. And in that moment letting my mind wander and think about people I love, that I lost, the things I want to do, the ideas I didn't know were inside me. All this would be so difficult with the strap of a heavy bag digging into my shoulders.

How to be alone.

This year I spent Christmas Eve and Christmas morning alone, in a hotel room, next to the airport, eating a bowl of wonton soup to soak my sorry heart, after an even sorrier plate of Christmas ham and brussel sprouts-a ‘present’ from the hotel. The restaurant was empty bar a team of airline crew that spent the entire time on their phones while eating their food together.

I normally enjoy travelling alone, especially on airplanes because it means I can be with my thoughts in peace and I can just tune out and not be obligated to talk to people around me. It’s like meditating but with luggage. And after a three week programme abroad with a big group of international women that just blew my mind, with a schedule that reads like a drill, I was in truth looking forward to being alone. Time to process the amazing experience of the IVLP, make notes and mulch was exactly what I needed before getting home just in time for Christmas. Alas, that was not to be. My transit limbo was extended by 48 hours, two hotel rooms and lots of time alone. Although I had looked forward to travelling alone, this was too long and terrible timing. It may have been depressing had I not kept going over Up In The Air scenes in my head and laughing at my predicament.

So the optimist would say this was perfect time to catch-up, write, read and plan, right? I saw myself as the Anna Kendrick character, beating her laptop with her fingertips. I tend to find myself with so much to do on an airplane, for instance, I have a book, my laptop for working, a list in my head of the films I want to see, a notebook for writing thoughts, music I have been meaning to catch up on, notes and reminders to sort out. This is not the art of being alone, but the chaos of being overly ambitious with my time. And I panic when there is too much in my head and so my default is to not think just do.

But this time I became George Clooney. I thought, observed, and also let myself tune out at airports. Then in my hotel room I contemplated in my hot bubble bath, listening to Elvis, which have largely been to do with the lack of reliable wifi too. Someone had just told me dealing with things head on is the best way and I tried it out. I let my wander. And then I reigned it in. I let the music take me over. And then changed it. It was an exercise in being alone. No emotions in particular. But deliberate thought. Slowing down my mind so as to not panic. Thankfully I had great music to keep me company-the type that feels like someone is singing right next to you. 

And suddenly the unreliable wifi let a WhatsApp message from a friend through, all the way from France, telling me I had been of great help. Elvis sounded so much sweeter just then. 

I’m alone, but not lonesome.

*Listening to Elvis Presley (Are You Lonesome Tonight), Rufus Wainwright (Somewhere Over the Rainbow), Eva Cassidy (Fever), Kings of Convenience (The Build-Up), Air (You Make it Easy), Stevie Wonder (You Are the Sunshine of My Life), Macklemore (Gold). I feel like I rediscover myself and music when I put iTunes on shuffle.

When I fall in love I write letters.

When I fall in love I write letters. And this is my love letter to all the women I met on the IVLProgram in 2018, especially the 16 that bonded even more closely in Denver and Pensacola. 

Dear friends,
When I arrived in Washington DC there was zero expectation for the program or myself. The most positive thing I was planning to take away was the fact that I will travel. Being a woman who runs her own business letting go off the reigns somewhat was not easy. True, not having all the information, ‘shooting from the hips’ (as I learnt from an American workshop leader and now in my personal opinion a mentor) and winging it were not new territory for me but rarely have I been so unaware of and lacking in understanding about something which has now become one of the most important experiences of my life.

Meeting 53 women from around the world and more specifically getting to know them, their stories, their struggles, their victories, their quirks has made me fall in love with, for the first time in my life, with more than two people at the same time (I have two children, in case there were questions...) and feel fabulous about it.

We are all very good at retelling events and painting pictures (social media monsters out there) of our daily lives and certain moments in time. And since we collectively had this IVLP experience all our stories overlap, correlate, resonate and relate with each other. And so what I want to tell you, my dear friends, is to lay my heart out on the table and say you have captivated me. When I fall in love, I plummet in love. My world turns up side down, and so in theory plummeting lets me soar to great heights. This height, I’m sure for some of us who know, let’s you see the real picture from above. And what I see in you all, my dear friends, is the strength you have given me, and to each other.
You can never have too much strength, only too much power, and my best friends have given me new strengths as well as topping up some of my others.
Before being here, I knew I what I wanted from life, from my purpose, from myself but not what I needed. The gaps in my knowledge and my confidence has been filled to the brim with your love, support and camaraderie. And sprinkled with laughter and memories and dancing. 

Now I know how to get what I need in order to have what I want. And what I want is for women and men to understand each other more. Why? Because through understanding we have less conflict and more collaboration. Why do we want collaboration? Because you learn from collaboration and you grow ideas, and you recognise your mistakes. And this letter is really about trying my best to hold onto this love, in all its peculiarities, wonders, fatigue and fear. 
Because essentially we all want to make the world a better place to live in, we need each other to be able to do that. 
When they said give a fisherman a rod...you are my rods (please don’t take my euphemism the wrong way).

One specific rod I have been handed over, out of the fountain of never ending rods in life, is to have the courage to talk about myself and my work. During one point on the program I volunteered to do a talk about my work in front of a large room of people, most of whom I did not know and so was hard to gauge, and instead of just talking about my business I decided to start with my own story. I felt brave enough to do it because you were all there and I wanted to be brave for you all by saying out aloud how important it is to have the ability to consciously talk about yourself and tell your own story. And in turn inspire others to talk about themselves.

I will stop here before this letter becomes too mushy, even though I want to shout out to the world how cool my girlfriends are! 

To my dear friends, with all my love and my heart.

Let's talk breastfeeding

Having grown up in the UK there are many things I find interesting if not baffling living in Mongolia as an adult. One of which is child rearing culture differences. Breastfeeding in public is major topic at the moment with several campaigns in support of this practice. In the UK major retailers and networking groups are behind this effort to make it a normal experience for mothers to breastfeed their babies. I personally support this as it's such a normal thing to do in my Mongolian opinion, not to mention the very real and valuable health benefits for newborns. In fact almost everyone I know who are Mongolian with no question believe mothers should feed their babies with their breast milk, full stop. No opinions, no discussions. I even had a man I work with asking me to do something tiny for work during my maternity leave but very cautiously apologising for exposing my baby to screen time on my laptop. And so the Mongolian culture of valuing breastfeeding mothers, mothers in general and placing so much value and preciousness on a newborn baby never fails to amaze me from time to time.Which is probably why the concept of breastfeeding rooms or corners in public places were never really needed here.

However, I find that with any issue that has such significance in society, there are tendencies for it to go too far also. In this instance the shaming of mothers who do not breastfeed, either out of choice or because they just simply cannot. The almost judgmental tone of an opinionated relative who narrows their eyes in silence when you tell them you've stopped breastfeeding can be pretty intimidating. Nothing can be a more personal issue and yet because of its wide acceptance in society people also believe it's everyone's else's right to have a say in your own decision.

And of course in societies where the change is trying to be made there are small groups who also take it further. 'Attached parenting' is term that's been getting a bit fashionable in the UK and USA. Having read about it a little I realised it's basically a fancy name for what almost every Mongolian family I know practice (Mongolia seems to be trending again following goji berries, cupping, goat and camel milk). Cosleeping-check. Breastfeeding on demand (sometimes until 4 years old!)-check. Carrying constantly-check. Many thoughts and expert opinions in both camps alike but it all sounds so high pressure to try and do parenting a certain style.

For me, parenting is a crazy and exhausting experience that never fails to enlighten me a little bit everyday. And it's not easier the second time round either. Less panic but still f-ing up. There is no perfect way to be a parent especially during the first few months, which for me is not always the best. There, I said it. I'm just that kind of mum. As cute and gorgeous smelling as they are in infancy, babies are hard work and I urge other mums (and also dads) who feel bad about saying this out loud to not be. I look forward to my kids growing bigger and telling me jokes, visiting museums together and talking about books we've read. So please don't shame those mum's who are just hanging on day by day until the sun shines brighter.

If anybody wants to talk about these issues with me or need some guidance, I'm going to be starting a support group for new parents soon called LAB (Life After Birth). Keep an eye out for more info, or message me if you want to join.

Music of my youth

Some people have a very profound relationship with music and seem to need it from such a deep place. Whilst others really don't respond it to it so much but simply enjoy it where they hear it-not sure which is better but ultimately I suppose it's not about what's better or right. Music for me has always been a changing presence in my life where I would listen to it or respond to it differently depending on what my life is like at the time. It can sometimes resurrect memories; connect me to my emotions; allow me to escape me emotions; change my mood; uplift me and even let me just drift without the loneliness of silence.

I remember being a teenager when everything was that bit more elevated-my emotions, my thoughts, my expectations, my dreams. And during this time I now look back on the music that listened to and how it changed and shaped me. Many of the albums and musicians I listened to growing up was stuff made in that time (the 90s and the millenium) and perhaps because that was my growing up time I still believe that it was one of the best times in music. I may be biased in wanting to big up the 'good ol' days' however this was a time when we had no social media, text messaging was just starting, people carried pagers and we did pretty much what we actually really liked instead of being told by people to like this and dislike that. I personally like to think that a lot of very important information was obtained from magazines like Shout and Mizz and felt confident in the rather wholesome and gentle guidance that even the agony aunts would write about, whereas today anyone with an internet connection is an 'expert' and we must constantly look for the most up to date and latest information. I write this today because I read a while back that for the first time in history the sales of old music has surpassed that of new releases and this for me is very relatable because people I think know what they enjoy and what is good, especially when it comes music, and older music was made and listened to without all this fuss and noise that we get from today's music. So they are genuinely very enjoyable to listen to. If a good friend of mine who is a music fiend is reading this I'm sure she'll have a lot to say about my thoughts but that's the magic of music-it can unite or divide people and I hope the following unites fellow lovers of music from their youth! We should all continue to listen to our favourite music no matter what.

Des’ree-Supernatural
This is an absolute old time favourite album that lifts my mood and I always end up singing along to it. Plus it was one of those first of many CDs I bought with my own money (all collected from weekly pocket money) and felt so grown up.

Zero 7-Simple Things
My above mentioned friend introduced me to this (among all the albums by Daft Punk!) and it instantly takes me to amazing places.

Corrs-Talk On Corners
Catchy and lovely pop songs perfect in the car. And yes, I AM a girl after all.

N.E.R.D-In Search Of...
What can I say, I like my music funky and loud and this is when I could watch MTV all day long.
(Can't get the link here for some reason...)

Moby-Play
Absolutely gut wrenching at times and full of nostalgia from my days of school and discovering all sorts of emotions. My all time favourites.

Macklemore-Heist
I like to think that I'm still young but I fell in love with this album after my teenage days but before my full blown adult mode. It still makes me feel like a kid when I listen to it, especially when I go jogging and totally forget about the pain in my legs!

Ash-Free All Angels
Reminds me of days spent in the park, lying on the grass and maybe even sneaking a can of beer.

Jeff Buckley-Grace
Most moody and aching girls have gone through this phase I think but he's still a legend.

Dirty Three-all albums
Music that is all engulfing and takes you to places. Instrumental but it cannot be any other way.

Joanna Newsom-Milk Eyed Mender
This is a real crowd divider. I love her because I discovered her when I was growing a lot as a person so pure personal reasons.

This post has given me real highs just thinking of these amazing musical creations. I could go on for several dozen more albums but then I'll need more wine...anybody care to join?

Millenial woman

It's been that long since I've taken a break from blogging, and suffice to say, I'm not short of topics to write about. End of my Dissertation Writing Project, start of my real full time job, learning the ways of a slightly twisted and yet perfectly 'normal' social values in Mongolia, starting and then restarting attempts at becoming healthy, bypassing the seven year touching stone of my coupledom, breaking out into social spheres and trying to make new friends in my 'older' years. Lots to write about, and yet, it seems I've lived through them all without writing about it.

I read an article recently that more and more millennial women are choosing to leave work with stress, pressure, under appreciation as the main reasons. And having been in full time work for the last two years I realized upon reading this that I too have become one of these women. I enjoy the ambition that I breed at work, the fears I have to overcome when making the shots no one else is willing to, the camaraderie that is created with co workers, the belief that you’re doing something worthwhile your time even if not entirely your capacity (but are striving everyday), and because of these and the all-consuming experience you don't notice much the tough sides.Tough bosses, tough deadlines tough budgets, tough environment.

Then the day comes when you realise you’ve had enough and surely there is more in life….

Some women (who are feminists by nature) might say stop holding yourself back and they may themselves decide to play the game in a mostly male corporate world and win, by being the change you want to see. With a huge push towards equality and support for women in the workplace in the last few years through social media and high profile initiatives this is a very topical issue. An article in the Guardian recently touched on this precisely by citing only 5% of the FTSE100 company's CEO was women, and bankers are mostly men because it's such a masculine environment, which was an issue highlighted by one of my favourite British contemporary artists Grayson Perry-I urge you to read this if only for a view of his very in-your-face piece.
But in the other camp there are other people, predominantly women, who are ardently feminist and who say (at least I hope) do what you want, what makes you happy. There are of course many other issues in the world and wanting world peace is pretty high on the priority list. But ultimately, if we are not here to be happy then what is the point? In my opinion, those who are messing things up (bankers) and those are are hurting others are deep down not happy people.
My issue is I always challenge myself internally by seeking the opposing views just to test my theories (part of decision making process from work I've not been able to shake off) and the opposing view to this would be, this is only an issue because I am fortunate enough to be in a position where I can make these decision (yep, middle class problems…). But what made me sway was getting pregnant again and , ultimately, being so happy that leaving work behind seemed such an obvious decision.

And quite honestly, in this time I’ve found myself again. I've bonded with my son again. I've spent time with my family, brother and sisters. I've finally caught up with Game of Thrones (haha, yes, because this is very important!). Watching movies never fails to lift me up and having realised I've starved myself of this one pleasure I've been on a marathon run of movies, TV, music and reading. And out of this experience second time round I've learnt that my son is actually a great kid. I’ve also learnt that I should be healthier and fitter. Current affairs feels strangely inclusive when you give the time to pay attention to it-I felt a part of the world again. Taking time off to rest and prepare for a second baby and the birth has been the best decision I’ve made. Financially crippling yes, but still best decision. And now having had the baby, I'm glad the timing has gone well work wise as well as state of mind wise. Of course super glad and grateful to have had a healthy and wonderful new boy, again.

Some people think having a baby is a step back or down. Some think it’s a much earned rest (hah, only if you’re not breastfeeding every two hours!) For men, staying at home to look after the kids is apparently perceived as a chance to write that book (sorry, one more of many Guardian articles on this issue but this one particularly made me laugh). For me, I've discovered it’s a chance to discover myself again. Sometimes, just space and a bit of time makes everything clear. No, this is not a guide, just my thoughts on my particular experience at this point in my life. Harvard research says you’re most stressed mid 20s to mid 30s in the journey of life. I feel like I’ve bought myself a first class ticket. 

*I have not explained what 'millenial woman' means here because frankly I will write a book. Instead this is my thoughts on one aspect of what I understand to be a millenial woman's journey in life.

Remember how to say sorry to your parents

As children we learn to apologise for our wrong doings to make peace, to get what we want and/or because we are really very sorry but as we get older we become more and more convinced of our own knowledge, abilities and correctness over others that we get a bit cocky don't we? Especially to our parents. And so even in instances where we ARE wrong and we KNOW it, we fail to apologise for our actions. Let’s not even get into our wrong (or at least not so nice) thoughts about others or their actions. But in reality, there is nothing more humbling than genuine words of sorry, and asking for forgiveness that makes you realise how much it let’s you really connect with others. And why particularly your parents? Because they’re likely the people you know the best and for the longest time because growing up you've tested them the most with your grief, and their despair and worry, so most positive and negative aspects of your life are likely be wrapped around your relationship with your parents, and therefore it's probably brimming with unsaid as well as very loudly said issues. Hitting on the biggest nail first makes the others easier, and we all owe it to our parents. Perhaps you don’t even have to do anything dreadful to say sorry-whether you snapped at your mum in a moment of weakness; whether there is a long held back apology due for genuinely not knowing any better, which you hope they know you're sorry for but have never actually said.  If you are truly sorry for anything the rightful owner of that apology probably feels it and thinks about it too. And if they’ve forgotten about it, there’s nothing nicer than hearing someone say sorry because it is harder than saying ‘thank you’ and means more And when you learn to say sorry to your parents, learn to say it to your friends, colleagues, staff, children even-I promise it's much easier than saying it to your parents.

All this will let you prevent (or undo, depending on the colour of one's soul:) the building up of long term guilt for not being able to verbalise all your 'sorry's, especially to people who you care about, which is a regretful thing because carrying around that non-specific but still all consuming cloud of emotion can make you resentful, towards the very people you can, and should, say sorry to. And I'm sure there's a pretty sizable bag that we all carry around. Internalising various thoughts and feeling, be it positive or negative, as I found out recently, is not healthy (and the reasons for it is a whole other topic on passive aggressiveness, which I will cover at another point). And how did I finally 'realise' this? By doing the opposite of internalising-by opening myself up to the feelings I avoided, the confrontations I shied away from, the straight looks in their eyes I feared. This exposure that I thought was frightening actually makes you so light and free and bouncy it's almost heartbreaking. Why heartbreaking? Because you suddenly realise what you’ve been missing out on by holding onto that resentment. By letting yourself open up, being brave and facing things head on, with a lot of effort ofcourse, I feel very simply happy. I will not quote something Zen or zeitgeisty like ‘the truth will set you free’ as we’ve (mostly) all grown up with and are tired of these soundbites that will supposedly solve our problems, but I will say that consequently this happiness allows me to feel more and be open to myself. 

This is important discovery for me because I can now deal with one of many issues in my life by looking at it with new eyes and a happy heart. To expand, people today are so overwhelmingly occupied with friends, family, work, hobbies and projects (it's fair to say we all personally know people who are juggling hard and fast) that it is often assumed the best way to deal with them is to compartmentalise in order to prevent yourself from going mad from the ever growing number of things to deal with, roles to embody and emotions to restrain. I like to think that I’ve had good practice at this compartmentalising thing as soon as I ventured out into the world of ‘grown-up’ after moving to Mongolia, because I’ve always been one to take on another project, another idea, another interest. And as much as I enjoyed them all, looking back perhaps it was more the satisfaction one gets from getting things done and acquiring ticks on my to-do list more than genuine fondness. Maybe this is why more and more of my 'things’ felt like burdens, items to avoid, and eventually resentment for taking my efforts and energy away from what is important. 

So, by learning and knowing how to say sorry, and consequently discovering how to be happier, I'm beginning to realise, just shy of turning 30, perhaps I need to let my heart permeate through every one of the compartments in my life that I want to keep. Not bad for a little soul digging. And now I feel like I've come a little bit closer to understanding for myself some of the things that were shouted at my generation from songs, books, magazines and TV. Somethings AREN’T better left unsaid, unless they’re unkind words. Because sorry seems to be the hardest word. It’s never too late to apologise.

*Sorry for the cheesy roundup of quotes.

The EU Referendum is more than about remaining or leaving

I came to the UK for the first time when I was nine years old with my mum and younger brother. By the time we had settled in Tony Blair and his newly elected Labour party was in government and it was a time of great opportunities. At the time I was far from understanding the significance of this change in British politics or the policies that shaped millions of people's lives in the consequent years to come. My brother and I, with absolutely zero English at the time, were just trying to figure out how to fit in at school and my mum working two jobs whilst taking English as a Second Language (ESL) course. You see, at the time a foreigner was able to enter the UK on a student visa and bring along dependent children, and at the same time work to support themselves. The economics of such a situation today will not obviously hold up because housing prices, living costs and general availability of resources is set so high against the economic migrant. The 'burden' is too great.

Nevertheless, despite my mum working non-stop, us moving around constantly and changing schools, we slowly became engaged and immersed in British life and adopted the culture, the history, the politics and the life that was available for us then. 

Yes, I didn't know what custard was, or know why children called their grandmother 'nan', or why lunch was called 'dinner.' Not knowing the language meant there was initially a huge barrier for me to understand these everyday simple things until much later, and by then I had grown a sense of  wariness about asking about such obvious things that British children would normally grow up with at home. Even though my mum had said our English was improving much faster than her's all three of us didn't know any better. There was a sense of pride in me but also a fear that I will be found out as a phoney so there was always, still to this day, a strong willingness to teach myself and learn everything I possibly could myself as a way of 'catching-up'. 

Outside of formal education system (which was tough to begin with but Wherever we lived our local library (Paddington especially comes to mind) was our haven, where we'd spend weekends reading and then checking out the maximum number of books, which was 15 then. So much of our childhood is wrapped up in time spent at Hyde Park and Kensington Gardens roller skating, feeding ducks, running around in the playgrounds. Another time, we lived near Fulham Broadway and our local swimming pool and sports centre was a mandatory weekly visit where we paid a pound to swim all day in the massive splash pool with whirlpools and giants slides! And later, as I got older I roamed around the (free!) art galleries and museums of London, stripped off any pretension or studies in 'important' art work to know any better but to just enjoy everything I see. I spent days walking around Ladbroke Grove, Portobello and Notting Hill-not understanding that the area was one of the best places (then) to experience different cultures, aesthetics, food and music. I never took for granted the that fact that we were able to move to this weird and wonderful country that gave us such a huge array of opportunities, which gave the foundations of the lives we are able to build for ourselves today, and will continue to shape us, and even our children into the future.

And this is why I'm writing this very extended piece. Today I see the immigration issue in the UK through the eyes of someone who was an immigrant, and who has benefited in immeasurable amounts from having started my life here. I see young families from various Eastern European countries at the park, in the swimming pools, at the school gates and in supermarkets, and it looks really familiar to me. That subtle appreciation for life and what it offers them. I realise that many people have fallen through the cracks of immigration policy in the UK and many married couples have been failed by attempts at controlling immigration. The current system is far from perfect. And so is the governing framework of the EU. But I think it will be such a shame if thousands of families are denied a chance to immigrate to the UK and start a life that would offer so much opportunities.

And as much as there are larger macro economic issues to consider and ways of tackling them, I hope with all my heart that at least with respect to the immigration issue, the people of the UK extend their borders and hearts even more so than ever for people across Europe. Because there will be many children of such immigrants in 20 years time with a lot to be grateful for, just like me.

Something personal

Solidarity teaches you the most about yourself. Your moods, your thoughts, your physical needs like hunger or human contact. Only when you put yourself or find yourself in a situation where you and you alone are responsible for yourself, your actions, your progress, are you forced to ‘see’ yourself. And sometimes what you are confronted with is ugly, because you realise that there are aspects of yourself you’d rather not have found out, aspects that you wouldn’t want others to realise. For example, I get distracted very easily. So easily that in the process of writing one e-mail I would have made myself a cup of tea, checked my message on my phone, had a scroll through my pictures on my phone, went to the toilet and daydream about the weekend. An optimistic person would say that despite the breaking down of a simple task into a long process I have managed to get a lot done in between. A pessimist would say that I am not particularly a productive person. And here’s what I also discovered: I may have a minor bipolar disorder, which gets activated under intense anxiety.

There were days during my self created isolation of writing my dissertation where I am in an extremely productive state because everything seems doable, possible and just brilliant. Concentration would be sharp as a pencil. Life is beautiful, creative and satisfying. You have an endless amount of energy, which you want to share with everyone. And then there were days when I just could not convince myself that I can do any little thing. Feelings of self-loathing, exhaustion and hopelessness would completely take me over, sitting down or standing for minutes at a time staring into space, unable to make myself move physically because the mind refuses to animate. When you try to improve the situation by ‘offering’ to yourself things to do to keep yourself busy and not not thinking, the other part of you will find the negatives in each situation, the impossibles in every action.

During this time, if just one little thing goes spectacularly right, then the euphoria starts again. I realised that there is a trigger. The happiness trigger is almost always to do with people. Speaking to someone close on the phone, bumping into a friend unexpectedly, having a really good work conversation makes life just worth living. Of course when you’re aware of what your happy trigger is you start to dread and genuinely fear the sad triggers, because I know that if they jump out of somewhere, I can’t do anything about it, and usually it starts with the headaches. Pressure, guilt, misunderstanding may seem easy to handle, but when you know that these will trigger you into a state of mind which you cannot leave and sometimes, worryingly, you do not want to leave, you do everything you can to avoid the triggers. You wake up in the morning and try and see what the day will be like today. And some days it feels like this:

Photo by Ellen Forney

Funnily enough, my dissertation was on the concept of resilience-a theoretical thesis about how to respond in the event of disturbances or disasters and develop a self-organising system containing adaptive capacities. And somehow the theory taught me more about myself and has helped me to learn how to ‘bounce back’ from the sadder times.

When you physically and mentally isolate yourself you realise how isolating, and a scary thing to say aloud, a mental issue is. When people, jobs, everyday tasks surround you it’s not so easy to recognise the patterns, and this only confuses your mind and body. This summer has been a revealing one and it has taught me about the processes in my head, the triggers, recognising when it has started and then taking actions against it. And one action I take is to go for a quick run, and then meet a good friend. What about you?

World Mental Health Day 10 October 2014

http://www.mentalhealth.org.uk/our-work/world-mental-health-day/

Go Help, plain and simple.

Every rally has a start line and a finish line. And the Mongolia Charity Rally is no exception but the first thing I thought when I saw this through my car window was: ‘Hey, they copied us!” For me, this was of particular interest because in a way I have lived this event and have done so for the last six years. Also because the Mongolia Charity Rally had this idea last year already (Finish Line at a hotel to receive our much worn out guests) AND a bit amusing as our hotel is called Kaiser and the other rally’s was Chinggis-rather well known emperors through history.


Yes, this is the time of the year when many Europeans, Americans, Australians to name few descend into Ulaanbaatar after almost 10 000km of rally across the world through Europe and Central Asia. The Mongolia Charity Rally is an event that is organised every year by Go Help, a UK Charity dedicated to raising funds to finance education and health care projects in Mongolia, in return for an adventure of a lifetime. This may sound a lot like Mongol Rally, a little better known rally event that also starts in the UK and ends in Mongolia, however what most people miss is the fact that theirs is a business model and the Mongolia Charity Rally is singular in a simple way that it is a charity event where funds raised are spent on local projects in Mongolia, as implemented by the charity itself.

When people make the decision to embark on a challenge like this over their summer holidays it’s understandable that they will do their research. Having more choice and the freedom to select a rally based on the fees, conditions, services etc is the basic expectation for most people.  And in the spirit of a market economy, the event that has most people joining, has most media presence and more people talking about it tends to be the more popular. In that sense, the Mongol Rally continues to operate with over 300 teams a year, whilst the Mongolia charity Rally has a few over 30.

But what seems to be overlooked is what happens when a team arrives at their destination in Mongolia, and in Go Help’s case this is when it becomes even more interesting because those 30 odd teams making it get to see what their funds are doing, meet the students who are receiving scholarships, the children who are reading books off the back of a mobile library, and meet doctors who are using the ambulances for check ups and emergency services throughout the vast Mongolian countryside. And I think this is when a Mongolia Charity Rally team gets the sweeter deal.

And gentle marketing aside, Go Help also benefits as the people who choose our rally brings so much more than just their vehicles and their money raised. We have worked with teams who came and stayed for weeks volunteering in a local hospital, then setting up a charity to partner with Go Help for medical student exchanges; donated hundreds of books and study materials to our Book House project; have taken part twice already with a third planned next year; stayed in contact and in support and have become our trustee; and even raising money for our Mobile Library project despite not doing the rally but honouring their friend’s memory from a distance, and many more. These connections make our rally and our charity special. The people who are involved enhance our work and give ideas for our future projects. And they understand that although our Finish Line may not be as large or as expensive as the other rally, once they get here there is a team of people waiting for them, ready to get to work and show them what this rally is all about.

Team leoYlou

Team Alpha Badger

the Go Help family of staff, students and volunteers

Book Ger project