Friday Insanity

By Charlie

I got up at 4 AM on Friday to fly down to the Gobi Desert for a medical evacuation. I was back at the UB airport before lunch, which was just in time for me to be fired from my job at MIAT. I was hastily rehired approximately 30 seconds later. Then I participated in the evaluation of a MIAT pilot who may be losing his job. I was also summoned to the office of the airline’s chief lawyer. In the late afternoon, I reserved some airline tickets for my friends, refilled our Keggy and had a tense negotiation with one of our three would be landlords. The day ended nicely enough with a special farewell happy hour for the departing British Ambassador.

Yes, it was another outrageous day in the City of Felt.

The Gobi

Since January, I have been doing some training for a missionary air charter group called Blue Sky Aviation. I am teaching three Mongolian guys how to be cockpit radio operators.

In thanks for that work, Blue Sky’s chief pilot has invited me to join some of their flights. On Thursday, we did a short flight around UB to collect air samples for NOAA. On Friday, we flew down to the Gobi to pick up a heart attack patient who needed to get back to UB. I did not fly, but I did get to sit in the right seat.

It would take about 12 uncomfortable hours to do that drive in a jeep. The plane ride is just less than two hours and it was totally smooth.

We departed UB around 6 AM and watched the sun come up about an hour into our flight. It was spectacular.

There is said to be a huge copper deposit under this part of the Gobi and a mining company is drilling holes and building infrastructure with the intention of extracting that copper. As I understand it, this is the top side of an exploration shaft.

And this must be the dynamite.

There is no town as such, but there are some large ger camps where the employees live. This is one of them.

This is the runway.

And this is the control tower.

We were on the ground for about 15 minutes to pick up the patient.

Returning to UB, the pilot flew an amazing approach through the mountains. In this picture you can see the shadow of the plane. This gives you a sense for how low we were and how steeply we turned. It was an amazing and perfect approach.

We did this approach because the weather was good. If visibility is bad, then air traffic control sets you up for the ILS approach to a different runway. It takes longer, but there are no mountains.

Firing and Rehiring

I put in an appearance at the MIAT office after the excellent flight to the Gobi. I had a noodle soup and checked my e-mail. At 1 PM, I was to participate in the evaluation of a pilot whose English is not up to standard.

One of my colleagues told me that my boss’s secretary had been asking people in our office about my airport security badge. I had no idea what this was about, so I went to see the secretary. The secretary had no idea what was going on, but he sent me in to see the boss – our dear friend, K. And since this site is now password protected, I have no problem telling you that this guy’s name is Khorolsuren.

Khorolsuren told me that I had been seen on the “runway” with Blue Sky. “This is big problem,” he said. “It may be a big problem for you,” I said, “but it is in our letter of agreement that I can do work for Blue Sky.” “This is big problem,” he repeated.

Then the conversation turned to how many hours I spend at MIAT. I told him that I spend about ten hours a week teaching English. Since there is nothing else for me to do in the office, I leave after my classes. “10 hours? That is only one day,” said Khorolsuren. “This is problem.”

I explained that I’d be happy to spend a lot more time in the office if there was work for me to do.

“I will check with our president,” said Khorolsuren. This was basically his face saving way of telling me to get lost. As he said this, he took my MIAT ID and put it in his desk drawer.

“Okay,” I said. “And should I come to work on Monday?

“I will call you,” said Khorolsuren.

“Okay. And should I continue teaching English for free to MIAT employees?”

“Yes,” said Kholorsuren.

“Well, I’ll need my ID if I am going to do that,” I explained.

Khorolsuren opened his drawer and returned my ID. I glowered, left his office. Mark that as a win for me.

Khorolsuren, by the way, could be fired at any moment. He was appointed by the Democrat Minister of Transportaiton in the former government. The new Minister is with the Mongolian People’s Revolutionary Party (MPRP) and it is unclear what he plans to do with the three politically appointed positions that he controls at MIAT. Many MIAT staffers have said that they expect Khorolsuren to be fired along with the President and the Financial Vice President. But a very sage company veteran reminded me that Khorolsuren is a member of the MPRP and could very well be promoted to President.

The Inquisition

My job in the evaluation of this MIAT pilot was to read air traffic control clearances in English. The assembled panel then evaluated the pilot’s ability to understand and repeat the clearances. The panel needed to decide whether this guy should be sent back to Europe to try and pass a course that he failed last year.

The clearances were simple and I read them slowly and clearly. “Mongolian 301, turn right heading 350.” Or “Mongolian 301, turn right heading 180, climb and maintain flight level 310.”

He could not understand or repeat these clearances. It was fairly obvious to me that this guy is not ready for more training in Europe because his English is simply not good enough. I’d love to fly with him, but I would not let him operate the radio. Nor would I want to be a passenger on a flight with him at the controls or on the radio.

I understand that the panel was equally divided on the question of what to do next. Some people voted for him to go back to Europe for more training. Others thought that he was not ready and that he would definitely fail.

The smart thing would be to help the pilot improve his English before sending him again, but this option is not on the table. If the pilot goes for training now, Airbus will view it as retraining. The initial course last year cost $70,000. Retraining would be $20,000. But after next month, a full year would have lapsed and Airbus would require the pilot to start from scratch for another $70,000.

MIAT is trying to save money. But they also really need another Airbus pilot, so it’s hard for them to just give up on this guy. Sadly, nobody considered this last year after the guy failed his first course. As I wrote below, this is typical for Mongolia.

The Lawyer

Then it was down to the second floor for a meeting with MIAT’s general counsel. I greeted him in Mongolian and then listened to him carry on in Mongolian for about a minute. I understood that he was saying something about company policy relating to foreign employees, like me. But I really had no idea what he was saying, so we called someone to translate.

The lawyer had just found out about me and wanted me to know that foreign employees of the airline must submit all of their documents to his office and fill out a questionnaire. I told him that I had previously submitted all of my documents to Khorolsuren and signed a letter of agreement with him, but the lawyer knew nothing about this.

I agreed to bring my documents and then we had a nice chat about my work teaching English and my reasons for being in Mongolia.

Back in the City

For approximately the fifteenth time in the past month, I visited the local travel agent to check on the status of a complicated trip for many of my Luce Scholar colleagues who will visit Mongolia this summer. The travel agency boss was not around, so I dealt with one of his minions. We had the usual circular Mongolian conversation, so I will not trouble you with the details. The point is that I got about half of what I had hoped to get from the visit, which is par for the course.

The next step was to refill the Keggy. That was fun and easy. Rachel and I went to the brewery together.

Upon our return, we were greeted on the first floor of our building by Burenjargal, AKA Landlord #2. I have no idea what she really wanted, but she was waving papers and saying some very urgent things that I could not understand.

I put her on the phone with our guy from the Asia Foundation. That didn’t really do the trick, so I put her on the phone with Sambuunyam, AKA Landlord #3. Sambuunyam is the only one of our three landlords who has a court order identifying him as the owner of this apartment, so we have decided to pay rent to him.

I listened to Burenjargal shriek through both of these cell phone conversations and I had no idea what she was saying. I eventually got on the phone with Sambuunyam who told me that he would be at the apartment in 40 minutes and that he, Burenjargal and I would discuss the situation.

“She wants to wait in the apartment,” explained Sambuunyam.

“She cannot wait in the apartment,” I explained.

I handed the phone back to Burenjargal. She understood and slinked down the stairs. I retreated to the bathtub to reflect on my mixed emotions about this country. Then Rachel and I attended a lovely farewell happy hour for the departing British Ambassador.

In a way, the day was typical. This is an unstable country and every single day features bouts of uncertainty. Friday was special just because the highs were so high and the lows were so low.

To be honest, I am totally sick of it. Even if the good outweighs the bad, I am exhausted.

It is Sunday morning as I write and we’ve had no electricity at the apartment for the past many hours. It was off when we woke up and we have no idea when it might come back.

And I fully expect that sometime in the next week, the elderly father of Landlord #1 will show up at our apartment looking for money. He has mostly given up on trying to collect rent from us, but he apparently wants $150 per month for letting us keep his son’s crappy Chinese furniture. That should be an interesting conversation when it happens.