Disassembly, reassembly

It takes anywhere from forty mintures to two hours to take apart a good sized ger (or Kazakh keegezoui). Depends quite a bit on the number of gates, the number of people at hand, the temperature outside and the mood of the group. In the end, moving day is no different in style than any other action in Mongolia. No one is ever in a hurry. Like most actions out west, it takes all day and is accompanied by a good deal of tea, borsak, butter. arak (fermented mares milk) or vodka. The first ger that I helped take apart was out in Ulaanhus. We waited three days for the truck to come. Each day I was sure that if I left to go back to the aimag, the truck would show up immediatly and the whole thing would be over and I'd return to an empty pasture. The logistics of trying to show up and live with a family just before and after they move is vaguely ridiculous. No one knows when they will move, but anyone will give you a date or a time. You wait for the truck. You wait for the frost. You wait for the horses to come back from the mountains.

We usually started packing in the morning. Mongolian and Kazakh furniture is made for moving. Everything collapses on itself, comes apart and squeezes into other things. Gers are built around the furniture and likewise are removed with the contents in place. In this way, the ger is unbound and unwrapped, with layers being peeled off oneby one till only a skeleton of wooden poles. Allthewhile, there is space for drinking tea and welcoming guests. The feeling of bounded space remains while the structure desintegrates.

A moving day unfolds in a series of efficient actions and small bursts of activity. In between we always seemed to be waiting for someting or someone to arrive. The pacing of the entire process could not have been more helpful for me. I don't feel like I could unterstand a ger untill I had taken apart and put together a few of them. and all of the tea drinking and community gossip time allowed plenty of space for peering at roof poles latched together with yak hair ropes and joints bound with stretched leather. All of the small details of material use, connection and fabrication are exposed with the pieces of a ger are separated. The form and construction is straight foward, but still posesses a grace and beauty that stems from a simplicity and economy of materials. It is also the materials which show the sgns of age and use. Stained and ripped patches of felt show the age of an insulation layer, the craftsmanship of its production, and the repairs that have been made over the years.

Eventually, all the tea has been drank, the layers of felt and canvas and cotton have been folded and bound, the poles and gates are tied up and ropes coiled. The truck is loaded with the same precision and joy that some of us feel when packing an impossible amount of things into a car truck obviously too small for the job. I've been told you can fit up to three gers, with furniture and family members in a truck. I have some doubts, but am sure its done. The women squeeze into the cabin of the truck. The men load on top and the dog runs behind if the ride is short.



to see the entire process of disassembly in a slide show, click here