I went to Mongolia on October 8, 1998, to research the rebuiding of a
ruined Buddhist monastery called Shankh Khiid, which is about 450km west of
Ulaanbaatar, the capital. This monastery was founded in 1647 by the patron
saint of Mongolian Buddhism Jebtsundamba Khutuktu Under Gegeen Zanabazar
when he was 13 years old (he was a brilliant scholar, artist and sculptor).
It was completed in 1654 and grew steadily as a major centre of Mongolian
Buddhism (which is based on and allied to Tibetan Buddhism), until it was
destroyed in 1937 at the orders of the Mongolian Communist Party, a
holocaust that foreshadowed the destruction to Tibetan Buddhism by the
Chinese Communist Party in 1956.
I carried my (then) new Powerbook G3/250, an HP 340 printer and the
combined accessories in a sturdy Willow Design backpack, which protected
everything admirably, was easy to carry, and offered the added bonus of not
looking like a thieftworthy computer bag. I set up an Internet account with
Magicnet in Ulaanbaatar (UB to the natives and expat. crowd), the only
Mongolian ISP. A full account then cost $150 setup and then $75/month --
not cheap by any standards!
Apart from the terrible telephone wiring in the Russian-built buildings and
the usual problems of a growing ISP, the Internet connection worked well.
The PowerBook, of course, performed flawlessly throughout. Most of my work
was in UB, but I travelled to Shankh late October to meet with the monks. I
stayed in a ger, the Mongolian round felt tent (known as a yurt in
Russian), plugging the PowerBook to charge into a Russian-style 220v
electrical socket (with an adapter). Luckily, the local coal-fired power
station kept working throughout my visit. You can imagine the monks'
surprise and delight when I showed them the images immediately on the
Canon's LCD, and later in full-screen slideshow on the Powerbook. (I've
attached a JPEG of a slideshow session in the ger for you.) [View it here--Ed.]
Possibly the funniest event in the whole trip was my last evening in the
ger. I was sitting quietly when the door opened and the a giant figure
entered, dressed in full Mongolian Army uniform. He ducked through the low
doorway and stood up. Buy, was he tall! The most amazing thing was that the
decoration on his unifrm -- the badges and flashes which we expect to be
cloth -- were sparkling tin, flashing psychedlic colors. Instantly,
paranoid thoughts ran through my head. "Oh, no! They've come to arrest me!"
and "Is this for real, is it a dream -- or did they put something special
in that last fat-laden cup of butter-tea?"
But no. Using sign language, the giant SAM-missile-unit sharpshooter
haltingly explained that he had heard about the camera and the computer,
and that he wanted me to take photos of him. He then opened the door, and
his whole family trooped in, filling the ger with their colourful clothing
and flashing smiles. I spent the next hour taking pictures and showing
them. What a relief!
Using the Powerbook in Mongolia was a delight, partly because I had just
upgraded from a venerable Mac IIci (reliable, and a real workhorse for the
nine years it served me); but mostly because it was wonderful to be able to
experience Mongolia, do all kinds of setup work, track names and addresses
of my new Mongolian friends and helpers, keep in touch with my friends back
home, and write about what I was experiencing. I sent each article to a
small mailing list of friends and interested people as soon as I had
written it. After I returned to Canada December 8, 1998, I set up a Web
site running on the Magicnet server in Ulaanabaatar. You can see it at
http://www.mol.mn/dharma/.
Ah, the magic of technology!
If you've got a "Cool PB Jobs" entry, please send it to 
