wheniaminmongolia

When I am in Mongolia

I.

When I am in Mongolia

I visit friends in Ulaan Bataar first

we go to see the Ovoo

in the rain and the dark

we climb up the mud clumps

to the top of the hill

and jump the fence

a dog is barking loudly somewhere

I did not get shots for rabies

We approach a pile of rocks

and fill our cupped hands with

bits to toss

as we circle clockwise three times

I make wishes inside my head

and wonder about Chinggis Khan

and what will be for lunch tomorrow

When we are done

we look back at the colored signs

blinking their Cyrillic eyes

before the black backdrop of the sleeping steppe.

II.

When I am in Mongolia

I will ride

tucked into a Russian Micro-bus

between soft sleeping

green gorilla hills

I would like to lay between them

and pull their woolen grassland blanket over my back and up to my ears

We will stop at

the outdoor market

to buy vegetables and butter and broad-brimmed hats

I like to look at the stacks of hearts

and honeycomb stomachs

I roll the cuffs of my pants

so they will not drag

as I hopscotch over the blood puddles

and tiptoe on patches of clean concrete

When we arrive at the ranch

the sun is low

tomorrow

we will ride horses

and drink milk tea and moonshine out of chipped Chinese tea cups

with the nomads who live behind the hill that hides Siberia

I will eat horse for breakfast even though I am vegetarian

III.

When I am in Mongolia

I like to ride the train

I will board at 10:00PM

and say goodbye to friends and dogs

with my paper ticket

in my fist

I will find a seat

and lay unfolded

on a dusty rug

In the morning the sky

is violet

Old folk tunes

call from the speaker in my cabin

to a camel

standing and chewing

out the window

on the grass

IV.

When I am in Mongolia

I like to wake up first

before the others

I will go outside

in bare feet

and lose my heat

to the hard dirt

I will watch the river

it is a still ribbon of silver drawn in strong swinging calligraphy across the plain

When it is time for breakfast

I will have two bowls of cream of wheat

and help to clean the dishes

there is no soap

the water is very cold

my hands become curled bird claws

and I sit on them when I am finished

After second breakfast

we go for lunch

at the neighbor’s ger

to dine on KhorKhog

and breadsticks

We circle a small table

painted in orange and yellow cursive smoke swirls

and pass hot rocks

to place on our temples

and wrists

my hands become buttery

and I am careful not to drop

the bowl of goat knees and root vegetables

as I sip the broth out from under the cracked fat

After lunch I will

walk into the river

wearing all of my clothes

between the bits of gold dust

and horse manure

I will try to stand against the current

When I am done I will

march up the hillside

to see the view

and dry my underclothes

V.

When I am in Mongolia

I will walk out into the steppe until I am

all alone

I will face away from where I came

And then turn back

to see if it is all still there behind me

There are the gers

There is the river

there is the curving dirt road and the Russian military truck

catawampus and abandoned

I wonder

if one time

my experiment will yield different results.

©2008 Hillary Swanson. All rights reserved.