Wednesday, November 17, 2010

Biometrics in Mongolia? Where's my right to privacy?


So, I had to give my biometrics today. When I questioned why the state would need my finger prints, a practice that was introduced end of 19th century in Europe to track criminal recidivists, I was right away snapped at by a stout looking woman in her mid forties "Because, you are supposed to". I tried to elaborate on the fact that such practice is reserved often in developed countries for criminal offenders and that good citizens should not measure their relation with the state in any way through submission of their body. I told her "My body belongs to me and that no state should have any right to put me under surveillance. You do understand that such act is inconsistent with basic human right e.g., presumption of innocence? God forbid, something happens then innocent citizens will be stripped of their exclusive right to properly defend themselves because the state can potentially incriminate them based on the existence of inarguable evidence such as biometric data." "By the way", I continued, "Are you aware of the fact that primitive systems of data collection enabled Nazi Germans to track millions of Jews? You know, that KGB did the same to any dissidents in the former Soviet Union? You know that Rousseau, that famous French thinker who started the idea of a state of union between the state and citizenry, he mentioned that the only bond between state and its citizens should be based on sovereign relation. Once such bond will be based on biometrics what if our state decides to turn into authoritarian regime (I mean you can't deny the impossibility of it) with a right to post surveillance cameras on each street and with an access to every person's data?"
The lady in her mid forties listened breezily, smiled dismissively and asked me to press my fingers tight to the monitor. She made few clicks on her computer and thus my biometric record was initiated.
I walked out from the local "Horoo" building and was troubled by the ease my fingerprints were submitted to a database. When did this legislation was passed? Did any human rights NGOs express their concern about it? Was there any critique from the public?

Friday, November 12, 2010

Зохиолын Дууны Цаг

Ганцхан чи минь минийх шүү
Үг Чойнхор

Дэнжийн цэцгийг хувааж л
Дэрлэсэн гурван сар минь
Сэтгэлийн гүнээс тодрох
Сэрүүн зүүд л байвуу даа
Наддаа ирэх өдөр чинь
Хором хормоор ойртоод байна
Нандин зүрхний үг чинь
Санаан дотор тодроод байна

Амрагийн гэгээн тэнгэртээ гялалзах одод нь олон чиг
Алагхан зүрхийг догдлуулдаг ганцхан чи минь минийх шүү
Амрагийн гэгээн тэнгэртээ гялалзах одод нь олон чиг
Алагхан зүрхийг догдлуулдаг ганцхан чи минь минийх шүү

Хүлээхийн гуниг нь хэцүүхэн ч
Уулзахын баяр нь зүйрлэшгүй
Хэлсэндээ үнэнч явсан бол
Тэрэн шиг жаргал ч байхгүй дээ
Сайны ерөөл тавиад л явсан юм даа тэр минь
Сар жилийн уртад чиг саараачгүй сэтгэлээ

Амрагийн гэгээн тэнгэртээ гялалзах одод нь олон чиг
Алагхан зүрхийг догдлуулдаг ганцхан чи минь минийх шүү
Амрагийн гэгээн тэнгэртээ гялалзах одод нь олон чиг
Алагхан зүрхийг догдлуулдаг ганцхан чи минь минийх шүү

Сайхан чинийхээ өмнө цайгаа дээжлээд барья даа
Санан санан хүлээснээ тунирхан байж л хэлнэ дээ
Гадаа ирээд буухаар чинь гарах уу байх уу догдлоод байна
Гэрэл татсан царайнд чинь гэр минь дүүрээд ирнэ дээ

Амрагийн гэгээн тэнгэртээ гялалзах одод нь олон чиг
Алагхан зүрхийг догдлуулдаг ганцхан чи минь минийх шүү
Амрагийн гэгээн тэнгэртээ гялалзах одод нь олон чиг
Алагхан зүрхийг догдлуулдаг ганцхан чи минь минийх шүү


Monday, November 8, 2010

Арван Зүүдний Өр

I sat reading Ayurzana's "Арван Зүүдний Өр" which can be loosely translated as Bound by 10 Dreams. Every time I pick up and start reading this author's book I feel a slight aura of melancholy settling over me. This light feeling of sadness does not necessarily penetrate me to the core instead it hangs above me like a dust from the past I often try to shake off after the reading session. The melancholy might have to do much with the retrospective experience that the author have had during Communism and post-communist period. His words, his personal thoughts perhaps may have resonated with my childhood and adolescent years and created the catharsis. However,I was determined to finish his book this time and get over it but similar to my previous experience with his novel, I ended up twisting and turning in my bed. Just like the main character ends up owing his dreams in exchange for a rare manuscript I got lured into the depth of A.G.'s novel again.

Tuesday, October 26, 2010


Зүүн гар чинь дэр минь байж,
Баруун гар чинь намайг тэврэг!

(Соломоны "Амрагийн дуулал" -аас)

Thursday, October 21, 2010

Нийгмийн шүүмжлэлийг сэтгэгчид хийж хувьсгал хийх зүрх залууст байдаг



Bande à part кино нь Францын кино урлагт Шинэ Давалгааг хэмээх хөдөлгөөнийг үүсгэсэн кино найруулагч Жан Люк Годар-ын хамгийн ойлгоход төвөггүй гэх кино билээ. Манай кино урлаг сүүлийн үед хөнгөмсөг савангийн дуурь мэт кино зохиол, техник муутай бүтээлүүдээр дүүрээд байх шиг санагдах боллоо. Хуучны алтан үеийн кино найруулга эсвэл савангийн дуурь үзэх хоёр л боломж байдаг болчихож. За тэгээд арай техник сайтайг ни үзъе гэвэл Холивуудын хэдэн блокбастер сүүлчийн сонголт болоод байгаа нь харамсалтай. Нариуулагч Годар хэлэхдээ, бид хүмүүсийн ю дуртайгаа чалчдаг эрин үед дуугүй кино узэж яг л авсан дотор банзлагдсан онгон хүүхдүүд шиг байлаа. Монголын найруулагчид маань ч гэсэн нэгэн урсгалаа дагахаас илүү шал өөр мэдрэмж хайх цаг нь болсон байх.

Wednesday, October 20, 2010

Rock, absence of sex and violence in Minii Muu Aav (My Poor Dad) or second chance to explore cultural identity through cinema.



About two months from now I had an opportunity to view Mongolian film “Minii Muu Aav”. At first glance the film appears as a naiveté tale of lost generation of alcoholics trying to fit into increasingly progressive and commercial society where age, gender and looks are all mobilized for the fulfillment of corporate utopia. The melodramatic narrative is built around giving this bunch of middle aged men with some serious addiction to alcohol, a second chance either in a professional or personal life which the film successfully fulfills throughout the film. However, I do not wish to critique the all too familiar and perhaps even cliché evils of commercial exploitation, such as age, gender and its lost social agenda. What compelled me to write a review about this film is its very platonic theme or absence of popular sex and violence theme. In that sense one can argue that the film is very much reminiscent of old Socialist films where ideology dominated the censorship and such carnal elements as sex and physical violence were filtered through state run film production studios. If we take into account that old Socialist system is not in power anymore, the ideology has proven to be impractical and the desire stands apart from naked nostalgia, what constitutes the necessity for such film and what is relationship of it with the audience? When I discuss the relationship of the audience and the cinema I had particularly in my mind Nietzsche’s Birth of Tragedy. When Nietzsche describes barbaric Dionysian forces played out in front of sophisticated Greek audience the contrast is set between decaying Greek society and moral necessity for explosive violence such as Dionysian that could overturn the social order. However, in “Minii Muu Aav” such Dionysian forces are toned down or even suppressed. Instead such elements as insatiable desire and greed is substituted; sex by platonic relationship between male and female characters, money and greed is resolved through sentimental personal relationships and family ties. If according to Nietzsche social moral decay begged for revolutionary violence as one similar to destructible Dionysian forces what necessitated desires of Mongolian audience for sort of pacifist film? Since there is no necessity for radical social change in Mongolia the only logic, for the absence of violence and sex in this film, I can think of is sort active cultural identity and perhaps approach to modernity through cultural negotiation of modern Mongolian identity. I want to emphasize here the word modern because this is perhaps one of the less explored themes in the studies about Mongolia. There is an existent and expanding field of museum scholarship about Mongolia such as anthropology, ethnology and history of Mongolia but nothing yet about Modernity in Mongolia. The rest of the world was so far successful in researching Mongolia as a sort of antique museum object but not as its peer and therefore its subjective identity. Now, how does such argument relate to the film? The key elements in the film are posters of western rock music and the nickname that the main protagonist carries “Estrad Jagaa (Show music Jagaa)”. Rock music and music in general often carry symbolic meaning of resistance and rebellion. For Jagaa was expelled from prestigious Russian university for listening to western rock during Soviet period which eventually leads to his lack of social status and eventually identification with lost generation of Mongolia. The incident that happened well over 20 years from his current life recurs in the cinema again well in his adulthood. If we can conjecture that interest in rock music 20 years ago among intellectual youth such as Mongolian students studying in universities was a form of rebellion against Soviet regime and repressed national identity what purports such theme in seemingly open and liberal society where tokens of national identity such as horse racing, wrestling and revival of traditional religion is purported and encouraged? Here, I would like to invoke again the museumization of Mongolia and transnational forces directed towards local and small nations such as Mongolia. The film therefore stands as a symbolic and newly born desire of Mongolians to stand culturally as an equal peer, someone who wants to be a peer to its neighbors and walk hand in hand with the progressive modernity that is defining the global forces today.

Friday, September 10, 2010

Question of secondary education in Mongolia or some ideas presented at ACMS lecture



I sat awake last night unable to fall asleep after some illuminating ideas presented by Professor Gita Steiner-Khamsi at ACMS lecture series. The unsettling facts and outdated system of secondary education in Mongolia, that were brought into attention by Khamsi’s research called “Mongolization of Imported Education, are standing up like spikes begging for some good hammering. Whether these spikes need good hammer or gentle extraction from its roots may appear as a question of choice. In accordance with old teacher centered system the appropriate thing would be to give it a hammer and get rid of the problem. The power hierarchy that extends from the school principle all the way down to the so called class monitors “angiin darga” needs to be re-examined and questioned here once and for all. The 1960’s United Negro College Fund changed the tide of history for many blacks in America, hitherto classified as citizens of secondary order, by a singular propaganda quote: “A Mind is a Terrible Thing to Waste”. Now, wouldn’t it be a “terrible thing to waste” as such as a Mongolian child’s mind, impressionable, flexible, fertile, innocent and most of all full of creative dynamics? Before I blindly “hammer” the education issue I want to bring out several points that were discussed at the lecture.
Firstly and clearly through the eyes of an American researcher, Khamsi spreads the issue of reward system, that is salary of teachers. Her research was mostly focused on finding why all the money poured from foreign donor organizations is not effective at all. She found that although Mongolian public schools adopted bonus and reward policy, it nevertheless, found other way around, that they also learned to heavily penalize the teachers. Would you be shocked by the fact that an average Mongolian teacher gets penalized everyday for his student’s misbehavior, lack of discipline and loss of school property including small sundry items such as books and pencils? Khamsi says: “No wonder everything is locked up in schools and in classrooms here”, because the teacher’s accountability is tied directly to his salary. Everything lost, damaged, misbehaved, and undisciplined is translated into semi Mongolized capitalist system of money. On learning about this issue it remains only to applaud these abused teachers of secondary education. I’m trying to wrap around this fact and meanwhile I suggest separating the teacher’s responsibility from clearly economic chores such as looking after integrity of school property. This should be matter of the school administrative staff and not of the teacher. His sole responsibility should be academic, that is teaching and feeding young minds with ideas, knowledge and inspiration.
Since we’re liberally touching the subject of teaching and the teacher why not we question here the subjectivity of his figure here? The visual image presented at the lecture by Khamsi was one of a compelling example about Mongolians’ attitude towards the figure of a teacher. The image clearly depicted figure of Lenin at the center and children dressed in school uniform looking up to him in awe. The description under the picture reads “Lenin bagsh” (Our teacher Lenin). Khamsi gently pointed out to Mongolian traditional attitude towards their bagsh, someone whose authority they look up to with awe. However, what Khamsi did not mention is that this traditional view was shamelessly manipulated by Soviet authority resulting in final translation of Mongolian culture into Russified version. That’s why instead of lam bagsh or ardiin bagsh we see the image of Lenin bagsh; the bastardized version of Russian cultural colonization. Therefore, if we are to free the minds of Mongolians, we need to get rid of any bastardized versions to look up to. Ideally, the teacher figure should be questioned here and we should not be afraid to ask questions anymore and open our critical mind towards this authority. Yes, the teacher is an authority and he is part of institution that nevertheless has to instill social discipline, yet to close and not to encourage creativity of a young mind is indeed a “terrible waste”. The question, why Mongolia is not creating iphones, facebooks, computer networks and why we keep copying the technological advancements and we are not creating any, are stagnant issues and indeed need to be traced to the origin of our education. As long as we keep seeing the state authority and the authority of bagsh in the classroom as ultimate and omnipotent knowledge generators we won’t walk beyond cheap copycats of western and other developed countries’ inventions. So long, we, Mongolians won’t be paying attention to the reforms for our specific needs, the developed nations will still continue pouring money along with their prescribed policies and solutions that hardly seem to work here. Who better knows the problems and flaws of our education system better than us? We should welcome their technical expertise but we should come up with our own solutions and into content. Let all library buildings open up, let all locks from bookcases disappear, let the teachers worry only about what to teach and how to stimulate young minds rather than cut in their salary because of someone’s irresponsibility. Until we pay attention to this sector Mongolia will always remain dependent intellectually and culturally on other countries. A mind is a terrible thing to waste and closing up our future generation’s mind is an act we should immediately respond to.

Sunday, March 14, 2010

Reflections

These days I often think “Has the world become better place since the fall of communism and Berlin wall?” Did the end of cold war and supposedly the “end of history” were able to deliver us to the Promised Land? The echoes from yesterday transmitting promises made by liberal economists seem to be frozen half way in opening all the borders and revitalizing worldwide economy. If only more open borders could breathe in more happiness into this world. Yet, today more than ever the borders are guarded and protected.

The division of the world into so called third and first has fostered enormous traffic into the latter one. People from impoverished countries are desperately seeking visas and statuses to move into the first world. Who can blame those whose lands are plundered more than ever, whose local industries are destroyed by multi-national capital, whose pasturelands are occupied by mining corporations. There an invisible path laden, the one that leads from countryside to the urban cities, the one’s traffic direction is one way. Peasants, nomads, farmers, moving into the vaults of giant cosmopolites. “What is worse than not being exploited at all?” they say…

The first world in response is shutting itself; taller fences over Mexican border, more visa restrictions for non-immigrant visas. How can the first world demand from its impoverished cousins to open up its borders, become liberal and secularized when its own frontiers are crystallized under growing prejudices, fear and neo-racisms towards immigrants?

Wednesday, January 27, 2010

A Good Fall


Done with reading Ha Jin. As I kept reading I couldnt help drawing similarities between Chinese immigrants and Mongolians who struggle to settle in the U.S. The author demonstrates amazing knowledge of details and peculiarities of everyday life that the immigrants face in the new land. Also, because it's a collection of short stories each featuring diverse lives of different couples, individuals, and families, the book is easily read and very entertaining. There are all types of immigrants' lives; a graduate student who is struggling with his survival in New York, lonely composer who has to sustain his living through paid tutoring, a caregiver without any perspective for pension because of lack of English, a professor of English who is worried that his ethnic background might affect his tenure, a visiting scholar who turns illegal because his salary back home cannot sustain his wife's health cost and etc.

Sunday, January 17, 2010

Creative writing. test one two, one two. test one two one two

Yesterday experimented for the first time in my life with creative writing style. There is this website where you can get inspired as they give you hints to start writing. The site either provides starting sentence, topic or a situation. Feel free to experiment.

Here's what I wrote on prompt 303 which provided starting sentence:

Catching the signal from one of her friends, Angela, brushed her skirt, took a deep breath and walked towards where he was sitting. As her mind feverishly checked against smallest details of the operation she tried to settle her pace and assume natural stride in her walk.
Angela: “Mr. McGovern! What a pleasant surprise! I’m not sure whether you remember me but we had an opportunity to discuss fundraising options several years from now at the annual donor’s initiatives meeting in Washington DC.”
McGovern rests his coffee mug and looks up to the young woman. After resting his eyes on her for split of second he nods yet he appears hesitant.
“Eee. Miss?....”
Angela: “Jess. It’s Turbin. I was among support staff who handled the channeling of the funds raised in DC and although I was not directly accountable to you, I was in your team. Anyways, it is nice to see you again. How are things back at the organization? I remember when I decided to move on into different organization our team was involved in one of the major projects involving the development restructuring in Haiti following the catastrophe.”
McGovern still indecisive and while scanning inventory of all the individuals he reckons it would not hurt to just find out who is Jess Turbin. After all she appears to have formidable knowledge of his organization’s activity that might only insiders know like the one in Haiti.
McGovern: “Yes, I remember the project. It never really fully took off. It resulted in almost default state due to local agencies’ bureaucracy and redundant credit line the bank failed to oversee.”
Angela: “What a bummer. I remember how much energy and time we input into launching of that project. All those sleepless night at the office in Port-au-Prince trying to put down together restructuring costs, coordinating between respective governments. Is David Burns still with the organization or he’s not anymore?”
The last sentence echoed in McGovern’s mind and drew myriad of thoughts right away. Tired of speculating about the woman who now settled across the table with her cup of coffee he finally decided to bid away and looked at his wrist watch, old Zenith. The minute head and second timer showed noon but he cared less about the time now that he was retired. It was just a token to Angela that he had some other business to tend to somewhere than discussing mysterious disappearance of some architect of secondary value to the organization. His throat assumed slight itch and he noticed that it occurred ever since the day in his elementary school when he stood in front of a teacher and recited poem.
McGovern: “I believe Mr. Burns is not with the organization anymore. The Haiti project was a peak of his career I think and when it failed he resigned. Though I am not sure if it was full resignation or he was asked to leave. The organization has now much more young and energetic engineering crew. Well, Miss Turbin it was pleasure chatting with you. I have to be somewhere by one” He looks into his watch. Keep in touch. Drop by the office and feel free to roam and meet your old colleagues.”
Angela quickly aligns herself to McGovern as he rises up. She quickly draws her business card from her leather purse and hands it professionally to him.
Angela: “Pleasure is mine Mr. McGovern. I always cherish the days I used to work with the organization. I can almost say the memories are of sentimental value since it was my first ever job since I graduated from college. I now work for the non-performing credit department at Banka Commerziale’s New York headquarter. Really, Mr. McGovern if you need extra helping hand with balancing and credit line I would be more than happy to freelance. Here’s my business card and I will definitely stop by the office before I leave for New York.”
McGovern: “I will see you then Ms. Turbin. Good bye.”
McGovern quickly swipes his fedora hat from the table and leaves the café with paced steps. For a man of sixty he was incredibly nimble in his walk. Angela quickly zips her purse and walks out of the darkened coffee shop into an afternoon bright sun. Her body was soaking up the sun hoarding off the chill caused by an overly air conditioned coffee shop. However, she was not sure the chill down her spine will be leaving her anytime soon. The cold unassuming McGovern was both intimidating but the lack of any form of remorse felt when she asked about Burns, inspired instantaneous repugnant feeling. After the conversation she felt confident more than ever about the involvement of the organization in the disappearance of several civil engineers in Haiti. That man across the table just does not give a damn about human life. Next week as planned she decided to stop by the office and roam around. Perhaps something will yield.