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When Things Get Dark: A Mongolian Winter's Tale
At 23, Matt Davis moved to a remote Mongolian town to teach English.What he found when he arrived was a town―and a country―undergoing wholesale change from a traditional, countryside existence to a more urban, modern identity. When Things Get Dark documents these changes through the Mongolians Matt meets, but also focuses on the author's downward spiral into alcohol abuse and violence--a scenario he saw played out by many of the Mongolian men around him. Matt's self-destruction culminates in a drunken fight with three men that forces him to a hospital to have his kidneys X-rayed. He hits bottom in that cold hospital room, his body naked and shivering, a bloodied Mongolian man staring at him from an open door, the irrational thought in his head that maybe he is going to die there. His personal struggles are balanced with insightful descriptions of customs and interactions, and interlaced with essays on Mongolian history and culture that make for a fascinating glimpse of a mysterious place and people.
- GenresNonfictionTravelAsia
320 pages, Hardcover
First published January 1, 2010
3 people are currently reading
103 people want to read
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Matthew Davis
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Displaying 1 - 21 of 21 reviews
October 12, 2010
A tough one to review. Davis is a very good writer - I had no problem being "in the moment" as the scenes unfolded. The drinking didn't really get to me as much as (his references to) the domestic violence. There's one drunken, violent scene near the end; I admit I pretty much skipped the details, getting the idea that it was nasty. For me, the Mongolian history seemed more like filler to stretch the details of a not-all-that-thrilling day-to-day existence to book length (word count). So ... would I recommend the book? A qualified yes.
"Narcissistic" would be too strong a term, but the author's quite self-absorbed; his increasing concern about drinking seems almost like hypochondria as presented. Moreover, he realizes his landlords (who are also his friends) have expressed disapproval over his tent's becoming rather squalid, yet he goes off for a week, leaving dirty dishes behind. By the end, I decided that although I didn't like Davis very much, I respected his observations of Mongolian society; he obviously cares for the country quite a bit.
"Narcissistic" would be too strong a term, but the author's quite self-absorbed; his increasing concern about drinking seems almost like hypochondria as presented. Moreover, he realizes his landlords (who are also his friends) have expressed disapproval over his tent's becoming rather squalid, yet he goes off for a week, leaving dirty dishes behind. By the end, I decided that although I didn't like Davis very much, I respected his observations of Mongolian society; he obviously cares for the country quite a bit.
July 18, 2015
Mongolia is one of those places that I just find interesting—have never been there, might never go there, but...it tickles the imagination.*
This is a Peace Corps memoir, but Davis manages to steer clear of some of the pitfalls of Peace Corps memoirs—he talks about work, sometimes, but he limits the amount he writes about adjusting and talking to other Americans and even teaching English. Instead he focuses on a year spent in Mongolia, with his time there influenced heavily by the Mongolians he knew and worked with—but also by the weather, and the isolation, and the fact that life there could be very hard. Spring in Mongolia is not a season of its own but rather a combination of the three seasons that came before it. The snows and cold of winter. The beautiful placid days of fall. The warmth of summer. Mostly, though, spring is windy (129).
Davis spends more time on his second year in Mongolia, when some of his awe and ignorance had worn off and he could see more clearly how things worked and why...for example, when he had the perspective to understand that yes, the other teachers had procrastinated on developing a major curriculum, but they'd done so because they had so many other responsibilities that could not be ignored.
Drinking was a problem for many families—more specifically, men drinking too much was a problem—and it gradually became a problem for Davis as well. Davis treated the drinking as a problem, rejecting a Peace Corps doctor's suggestion that he was depressed. While the doctor appointment doesn't read as terribly helpful, I'll play armchair psychologist and suggest that, yeah, depression looks like a big contributing factor to the amount he was drinking...just because life there was hard, and winter especially hard, and there was no way to make big changes.
There's a lot of interesting history packed into the book, although in the latter half that history tended to drag a bit—not so much that it was too dry, but more that it pulled me away from the present-day people Davis was writing about, and I was more interested in them. Still...useful context. (I was reading this while I walked down by the river the other day, and a woman started whispering to her friend about how I was reading and walking, and wasn't that dangerous? 'I've never fallen down the stairs while reading,' I said, not missing a beat. She was a little flustered but asked what I was reading. 'A memoir about Mongolia,' I said. 'Well, that's cheerful,' she said. And it's true—it wasn't exactly upbeat—but that wasn't really the point, was it?)
*Mongolia has the power to awe, and with nothing to filter impressions, it is left to the observer's imagination to make sense of these impressions. And this is why Mongolia was increasingly becoming popular as a tourist destination. It left a lot to the imagination. The land. Gers. Horses. Nomads. Reindeer. But now I was seeing a little behind the interactive museum exhibit...my imagination here was dimming. I couldn't imagine Mongolia as Tom did, as tourists did. My view of Mongolia was now too wrapped up in zuds, alcoholism, fighting, and a desire to move away from the world the tourist sector celebrated. I realized I had stepped over a line between visiting a place and living in a place. (161)
This is a Peace Corps memoir, but Davis manages to steer clear of some of the pitfalls of Peace Corps memoirs—he talks about work, sometimes, but he limits the amount he writes about adjusting and talking to other Americans and even teaching English. Instead he focuses on a year spent in Mongolia, with his time there influenced heavily by the Mongolians he knew and worked with—but also by the weather, and the isolation, and the fact that life there could be very hard. Spring in Mongolia is not a season of its own but rather a combination of the three seasons that came before it. The snows and cold of winter. The beautiful placid days of fall. The warmth of summer. Mostly, though, spring is windy (129).
Davis spends more time on his second year in Mongolia, when some of his awe and ignorance had worn off and he could see more clearly how things worked and why...for example, when he had the perspective to understand that yes, the other teachers had procrastinated on developing a major curriculum, but they'd done so because they had so many other responsibilities that could not be ignored.
Drinking was a problem for many families—more specifically, men drinking too much was a problem—and it gradually became a problem for Davis as well. Davis treated the drinking as a problem, rejecting a Peace Corps doctor's suggestion that he was depressed. While the doctor appointment doesn't read as terribly helpful, I'll play armchair psychologist and suggest that, yeah, depression looks like a big contributing factor to the amount he was drinking...just because life there was hard, and winter especially hard, and there was no way to make big changes.
There's a lot of interesting history packed into the book, although in the latter half that history tended to drag a bit—not so much that it was too dry, but more that it pulled me away from the present-day people Davis was writing about, and I was more interested in them. Still...useful context. (I was reading this while I walked down by the river the other day, and a woman started whispering to her friend about how I was reading and walking, and wasn't that dangerous? 'I've never fallen down the stairs while reading,' I said, not missing a beat. She was a little flustered but asked what I was reading. 'A memoir about Mongolia,' I said. 'Well, that's cheerful,' she said. And it's true—it wasn't exactly upbeat—but that wasn't really the point, was it?)
*Mongolia has the power to awe, and with nothing to filter impressions, it is left to the observer's imagination to make sense of these impressions. And this is why Mongolia was increasingly becoming popular as a tourist destination. It left a lot to the imagination. The land. Gers. Horses. Nomads. Reindeer. But now I was seeing a little behind the interactive museum exhibit...my imagination here was dimming. I couldn't imagine Mongolia as Tom did, as tourists did. My view of Mongolia was now too wrapped up in zuds, alcoholism, fighting, and a desire to move away from the world the tourist sector celebrated. I realized I had stepped over a line between visiting a place and living in a place. (161)
June 13, 2019
This guy gets it.
The hardknock life in the early throes of the de-communism-ization. The Mongolian mindset of perseverance, of roughing it. His narrative turns the mundane into sublime. (Бидон is metal jug?) His observations leave me on tangents of daydreams. His Mongolian isn't the most grammatically correct, but it's there so much that at times I wonder if he really wrote this for English-speaking Mongolians not the other way around.
Man, I hope to be able to write like this. This is good stuff. And I hope more Mongolians will read this. Trust me, it's good.
The hardknock life in the early throes of the de-communism-ization. The Mongolian mindset of perseverance, of roughing it. His narrative turns the mundane into sublime. (Бидон is metal jug?) His observations leave me on tangents of daydreams. His Mongolian isn't the most grammatically correct, but it's there so much that at times I wonder if he really wrote this for English-speaking Mongolians not the other way around.
Man, I hope to be able to write like this. This is good stuff. And I hope more Mongolians will read this. Trust me, it's good.
March 15, 2020
I identified with the author in many ways. Many of his experiences are familiar to me from living in Asia & teaching English there; the embarrassing moments of culture-shock, the furtive moments of indecision and awkwardness with the opposite sex & the imperfect grasp of language leading to misunderstandings galore. The actual teaching becomes less and less part of the narrative over the course of the novel. Unlike some other reviewers, I enjoyed the segues into Mongolian history & appreciated the connections to places the author visited. I read other reviews that called them tedious filler, but I found them to be some of the most interesting parts of the book. I think I would have been more interested in the writing if Davis had made it more about the Mongolians around him and a little less about himself. This perhaps is inevitable in a twenty-year old abroad. I'm sure, had I been writing about my feelings when I lived in Asia in my late-twenties I probably would have projected a lot of my own assumptions onto the subject. I thought the explanations about his budding alcoholism were somewhat self-serving. The descriptions of UB pub crawls and lost weekends spent in pubs were parts of the book that I skimmed through. It was an O.K. read, but certainly not a page-turner.
February 22, 2019
My PC time in Mongolia overlapped the author's-- I was an M10, he was an M11. So he namechecks a few of my friends. I vaguely remember meeting him.
This seemed a fair assessment of this time in Mongolia's history, certainly of countryside/provincial life. I lived in a small soum in Overhangai, and witnessed a lot of what he chronicled. I enjoyed his writing and his accurate description of the culture. He had a believable character arc that led up to a dark episode, though the aftermath seemed anticlimactic (lacking resolution).
The interweaving of history was pertinent and he tied it in to his personal journey. It didn't feel like filler. Sure, you can get that history elsewhere, and I've read some of the books he used for research. But I enjoyed his retelling.
It's a quick read, and I got something out of it.
This seemed a fair assessment of this time in Mongolia's history, certainly of countryside/provincial life. I lived in a small soum in Overhangai, and witnessed a lot of what he chronicled. I enjoyed his writing and his accurate description of the culture. He had a believable character arc that led up to a dark episode, though the aftermath seemed anticlimactic (lacking resolution).
The interweaving of history was pertinent and he tied it in to his personal journey. It didn't feel like filler. Sure, you can get that history elsewhere, and I've read some of the books he used for research. But I enjoyed his retelling.
It's a quick read, and I got something out of it.
November 9, 2024
As somebody who's lived abroad for a long period of time, going back to re-read this hits home a lot more. I can definitely appreciate the situation he was in, having taught English in a very rural part of a hard-to-get-to country for almost two years, and his tale was vivid and lively. I love how he interspersed the history of Mongolia (especially how it's a country you rarely hear about) with his own candid experiences, and the pages flew by as a result! In short, this book does a lot to give a more contemporary view on a romanticized country, and we're all for the better for it.
October 6, 2011
Matthew Davis witnessed a quickly changing Mongolia. His memoir preserves a brief moment in history like a bee caught in amber. This is an honest memoir written in sparse American-lean. His journalism background served him well.
Flown to Mongolia in the year 2000, a twenty-three year old Davis was assigned to teach English in a remote hamlet struggling with change. Only eleven years after the Soviet retreat following nearly seven decades of occupation, the country has been beset by a series of natural disasters that have nearly expunged their livelihood- animals. With dwindling economic means, nation-wide migration to the cities and even foreign lands was underway. Davis found a people beleaguered by the fierce winds of want who found solace in drink. He, far from home, also took to drink.
The landscape and climate are foreboding. Winter temperatures rival those in Alaska. Unlike most of Alaska, there were roads. On one of his trips overland during winter, the jeep in which he traveled stopped, dead. Outside with the driver, he noted that "a gust of wind rattled across the steppe and blew some loose snow on our bodies. The snot in my nose had already frozen."
Like all wild places on earth, Mongolia offered special obstacles. For instance, the marmot (a large ground squirrel) burrowed all over the steppes and was hunted. Unfortunately, it also can carry the Black Plague. "Every summer," explained the author," Mongolian newspapers run the Plague Alert (much as western states in the United States run fire alerts)." His own town was quarantined for several weeks. There were humorous obstacles as well. When trying to agree on a weekend meeting with a Mongolian peer, he bargained for Saturday since Sunday was Christmas Eve. The Mongolian replied, "No, I cannot do it Saturday. Saturday, the hot water comes, and I have lots of work to do."
Davis describes his surroundings well and also recounts relevant history. He includes many intimate details of his own life: how he drank, loved and fought. Nobody would have confused him with a Mormon missionary. It is refreshing to read a memoir by someone who did not aspire to be a living saint. Few things are harder to put up with than a good example.
This is not to say that the author had no good intentions. Upon returning to his living space, he was surprised to find it clean, bed made. This was quite a change. Before he left, the room had been strewn with filthy clothes, dirty plates, cigarette butts and even a several month old rotting fish. While he had been away, a drunken neighbor broke in with impolite thoughts but was caught. As punishment, he was required to clean the place up. The local police expected Davis to press charges and have his neighbor, a family man, thrown into the Mongolian pokey. "That man," one officer said, pointing outside to where the man was, "entered a foreigner's home. That is not good." Our volunteer, Huck Finn in the Orient, turned the other cheek.
Life in the bush mellows. Whether it be the enormity of nature or being part of the food chain, one cannot help but see things a bit differently. When asked what he had learned in his two years, the author replied, "The Wall Street Journal burns better than The New York Times." No greenhorn would have said that. Five stars. Check it out.
It is interesting to note that two other recently published books by former Peace Corps volunteers describe Uzbekistan after the Soviet retreat (Taxi to Tashkent by Tom Fleming and Chasing the Sea by Tom Bissell). They also describe abhorrent alcoholism rates. In addition, when recounting history, there is very little about the seven decades during Soviet occupation except mention of drab Soviet style buildings, the remnants of a secret police, stories about the suppression of religion and a population that speaks Russian. I suspect that the Soviets had other major influences upon culture: a great topic for a follow-up book by someone.
Flown to Mongolia in the year 2000, a twenty-three year old Davis was assigned to teach English in a remote hamlet struggling with change. Only eleven years after the Soviet retreat following nearly seven decades of occupation, the country has been beset by a series of natural disasters that have nearly expunged their livelihood- animals. With dwindling economic means, nation-wide migration to the cities and even foreign lands was underway. Davis found a people beleaguered by the fierce winds of want who found solace in drink. He, far from home, also took to drink.
The landscape and climate are foreboding. Winter temperatures rival those in Alaska. Unlike most of Alaska, there were roads. On one of his trips overland during winter, the jeep in which he traveled stopped, dead. Outside with the driver, he noted that "a gust of wind rattled across the steppe and blew some loose snow on our bodies. The snot in my nose had already frozen."
Like all wild places on earth, Mongolia offered special obstacles. For instance, the marmot (a large ground squirrel) burrowed all over the steppes and was hunted. Unfortunately, it also can carry the Black Plague. "Every summer," explained the author," Mongolian newspapers run the Plague Alert (much as western states in the United States run fire alerts)." His own town was quarantined for several weeks. There were humorous obstacles as well. When trying to agree on a weekend meeting with a Mongolian peer, he bargained for Saturday since Sunday was Christmas Eve. The Mongolian replied, "No, I cannot do it Saturday. Saturday, the hot water comes, and I have lots of work to do."
Davis describes his surroundings well and also recounts relevant history. He includes many intimate details of his own life: how he drank, loved and fought. Nobody would have confused him with a Mormon missionary. It is refreshing to read a memoir by someone who did not aspire to be a living saint. Few things are harder to put up with than a good example.
This is not to say that the author had no good intentions. Upon returning to his living space, he was surprised to find it clean, bed made. This was quite a change. Before he left, the room had been strewn with filthy clothes, dirty plates, cigarette butts and even a several month old rotting fish. While he had been away, a drunken neighbor broke in with impolite thoughts but was caught. As punishment, he was required to clean the place up. The local police expected Davis to press charges and have his neighbor, a family man, thrown into the Mongolian pokey. "That man," one officer said, pointing outside to where the man was, "entered a foreigner's home. That is not good." Our volunteer, Huck Finn in the Orient, turned the other cheek.
Life in the bush mellows. Whether it be the enormity of nature or being part of the food chain, one cannot help but see things a bit differently. When asked what he had learned in his two years, the author replied, "The Wall Street Journal burns better than The New York Times." No greenhorn would have said that. Five stars. Check it out.
It is interesting to note that two other recently published books by former Peace Corps volunteers describe Uzbekistan after the Soviet retreat (Taxi to Tashkent by Tom Fleming and Chasing the Sea by Tom Bissell). They also describe abhorrent alcoholism rates. In addition, when recounting history, there is very little about the seven decades during Soviet occupation except mention of drab Soviet style buildings, the remnants of a secret police, stories about the suppression of religion and a population that speaks Russian. I suspect that the Soviets had other major influences upon culture: a great topic for a follow-up book by someone.
June 27, 2013
This book is valuable as an ethnography and as a travel guide to Mongolia. Little else was redeeming.
Davis' memoir is a decent snapshot in time of Mongolia in the early 2000s. I say 'decent' because I haven't read much literature on contemporary Mongolia and so cannot compare. An American spends 2 years of his youth in Mongolia, and he captures glimpses of that experience in this book. If you ignore the American overtones, then the social dynamics could actually be interesting -- what Mongolians in the countryside are like, what life in the Mongolian countryside is like, what social, economic, and environmental issues face Mongolians, etc. There is some commentary on all of this, but the book wasn't written to analyze those things.
The book also highlights some attractions in Mongolia. The author visits certain places and writes about his travels. I could go back and flip through the book to skim for place names if I wanted to visit Mongolia.
As a "tale," I found the book woefully lacking. A 23-year-old American spends two years in Mongolia and writes about those two years. Seeing Mongolia through this man's young eyes is really aggravating. He is honest about the errors he made (breaking cultural taboos, getting into arguments, or not understanding an aspect of Asian culture), and I get embarrassed for him. It's just an average story of an average middle-class, college-educated American male. Even though he seems genuinely interested in Mongolian culture and thoughtful about his experience, I didn't really enjoy reading about it (aside from the ethnographic value). There's not much story. Things happen. He enters people's lives (but as an outsider). He parties with other Peace Corps volunteers. Some things have a resolution but most things are left open-ended. Such is life, but then I really would have preferred to read an ethnography.
Finally, I am ambivalent about the book as a history. The author intersperses a handful of chapters on Mongolia's history throughout the narrative. Some of the later chapters are somewhat interesting (on the history with China and the history from the last 200 years). However, the first historical chapter was on Genghis Khan, and I really hated it. Other people (Jack Weatherford!) have written wonderful histories of Mongolia in the time of Genghis Khan and hundred years after his death; Matthew Davis does a terrible job. He doesn't cite sources, and he gets an important historical fact wrong (he says Kublai Khan is the son of Genghis Khan's second song Ogodei, when even Wikipedia will tell you Kublai Khan is the son of Genghis Khan's fourth son Tolui). Another thing that bothered me was that he kept referring to Genghis Khan as Genghis (or rather, the alternate spelling of "Chinggis") as if that were his first name. I could be wrong on this point, but having grown up on semi-fictional Genghis Khan lore through Chinese pop culture, I was always under the impression that Genghis Khan is a title and not a name just as Dalai Lama is a title and not a name. I wouldn't call him just Dalai, would I? So yeah, that chapter really discredited the author for me.
I think many people would actually find the book to be very interesting and enlightening because of the glimpse into Mongolian culture as well as the darker issues of Mongolian life. I disliked the book probably because I can relate more to the Mongolians he writes about and thought him at times an ignorant fool, an outsider trying to capture on paper something he'll never fully be or understand. That's probably too harsh; after all, he was young at the time. I think in person he'd be much more interesting and we'd have a lot to talk about... but exposing via published book the dark underbelly of Mongolian life as an outsider with no real vested interest in the place is another matter.
Davis' memoir is a decent snapshot in time of Mongolia in the early 2000s. I say 'decent' because I haven't read much literature on contemporary Mongolia and so cannot compare. An American spends 2 years of his youth in Mongolia, and he captures glimpses of that experience in this book. If you ignore the American overtones, then the social dynamics could actually be interesting -- what Mongolians in the countryside are like, what life in the Mongolian countryside is like, what social, economic, and environmental issues face Mongolians, etc. There is some commentary on all of this, but the book wasn't written to analyze those things.
The book also highlights some attractions in Mongolia. The author visits certain places and writes about his travels. I could go back and flip through the book to skim for place names if I wanted to visit Mongolia.
As a "tale," I found the book woefully lacking. A 23-year-old American spends two years in Mongolia and writes about those two years. Seeing Mongolia through this man's young eyes is really aggravating. He is honest about the errors he made (breaking cultural taboos, getting into arguments, or not understanding an aspect of Asian culture), and I get embarrassed for him. It's just an average story of an average middle-class, college-educated American male. Even though he seems genuinely interested in Mongolian culture and thoughtful about his experience, I didn't really enjoy reading about it (aside from the ethnographic value). There's not much story. Things happen. He enters people's lives (but as an outsider). He parties with other Peace Corps volunteers. Some things have a resolution but most things are left open-ended. Such is life, but then I really would have preferred to read an ethnography.
Finally, I am ambivalent about the book as a history. The author intersperses a handful of chapters on Mongolia's history throughout the narrative. Some of the later chapters are somewhat interesting (on the history with China and the history from the last 200 years). However, the first historical chapter was on Genghis Khan, and I really hated it. Other people (Jack Weatherford!) have written wonderful histories of Mongolia in the time of Genghis Khan and hundred years after his death; Matthew Davis does a terrible job. He doesn't cite sources, and he gets an important historical fact wrong (he says Kublai Khan is the son of Genghis Khan's second song Ogodei, when even Wikipedia will tell you Kublai Khan is the son of Genghis Khan's fourth son Tolui). Another thing that bothered me was that he kept referring to Genghis Khan as Genghis (or rather, the alternate spelling of "Chinggis") as if that were his first name. I could be wrong on this point, but having grown up on semi-fictional Genghis Khan lore through Chinese pop culture, I was always under the impression that Genghis Khan is a title and not a name just as Dalai Lama is a title and not a name. I wouldn't call him just Dalai, would I? So yeah, that chapter really discredited the author for me.
I think many people would actually find the book to be very interesting and enlightening because of the glimpse into Mongolian culture as well as the darker issues of Mongolian life. I disliked the book probably because I can relate more to the Mongolians he writes about and thought him at times an ignorant fool, an outsider trying to capture on paper something he'll never fully be or understand. That's probably too harsh; after all, he was young at the time. I think in person he'd be much more interesting and we'd have a lot to talk about... but exposing via published book the dark underbelly of Mongolian life as an outsider with no real vested interest in the place is another matter.
September 11, 2016
As a writer and former Peace Corps Volunteer, I've read a lot of Peace Corps memoirs. This one is better than most, if only because it goes beyond the sort of daily journal that so many of them are. Here, the author presents a real story--a narrative arc that shows his descent from newly arrived volunteer to a depressed and alcoholic expat, culminating in a dramatic climax and resolution.
Along the way, Davis does share a lot of his experiences, most of which are interesting and revealing of Mongolian society, peppered with short essays about Mongolian history. I found the history interesting, for the most part, because I don't know all that much about Mongolia. (But I do know some: in my former job for the World Bank, I visited Ulaanbaatar (the capital of "Outer" Mongolia, the country where Davis worked) for a few days, and also visited Hohot (the capital of "Inner" Mongolia, an autonomous region of China); and in my job before that I lived in Kazakhstan and visited Uzbekistan, territory conquered and influenced by Ghengis Khan.)
When I read a Peace Corps memoir, inevitably I compare the author's experience to my own as a volunteer in South Korea. In this case, my service was 25 years prior to Davis's, and yet his living and work situation were in some ways just as primitive as my own, or perhaps more so. Like Davis, I was often lonely. In my first year, I considered terminating early. I'm glad I didn't, but it wasn't always easy. I didn't drink as much as Davis did, probably because my personality is such that I remained somewhat aloof from my fellow teachers. Certainly drinking in South Korea was a major activity, but it never got the best of me. When I worked in Kazakhstan, I claimed allergies and didn't drink at all, because I knew the quantities of vodka would be too much for me. In all the work I did for the World Bank in China, I managed to drink just enough to be polite to my hosts.
But I enjoyed the book, and I would recommend it to anyone interested in either the Peace Corps or Mongolia.
Along the way, Davis does share a lot of his experiences, most of which are interesting and revealing of Mongolian society, peppered with short essays about Mongolian history. I found the history interesting, for the most part, because I don't know all that much about Mongolia. (But I do know some: in my former job for the World Bank, I visited Ulaanbaatar (the capital of "Outer" Mongolia, the country where Davis worked) for a few days, and also visited Hohot (the capital of "Inner" Mongolia, an autonomous region of China); and in my job before that I lived in Kazakhstan and visited Uzbekistan, territory conquered and influenced by Ghengis Khan.)
When I read a Peace Corps memoir, inevitably I compare the author's experience to my own as a volunteer in South Korea. In this case, my service was 25 years prior to Davis's, and yet his living and work situation were in some ways just as primitive as my own, or perhaps more so. Like Davis, I was often lonely. In my first year, I considered terminating early. I'm glad I didn't, but it wasn't always easy. I didn't drink as much as Davis did, probably because my personality is such that I remained somewhat aloof from my fellow teachers. Certainly drinking in South Korea was a major activity, but it never got the best of me. When I worked in Kazakhstan, I claimed allergies and didn't drink at all, because I knew the quantities of vodka would be too much for me. In all the work I did for the World Bank in China, I managed to drink just enough to be polite to my hosts.
But I enjoyed the book, and I would recommend it to anyone interested in either the Peace Corps or Mongolia.
February 8, 2012
Serving in the Peace Corps for a two year stint teaching English in Mongolia, Matthew chronicles the social customs, the economic decline after the fall of the Soviet Union, and politics-the trade off between a depressed economy with greater personal freedoms (Democracy) with those of the old guard who yearned for the days of plenty under a repressive Soviet regime. It is a snap shot of a society of released lambs in search of a living after being penned up by the Soviets with everything needed to live at hand. Juxtaposed against this suddenly free, but poor people, Matthew gives us a tapestry of history woven from skeins of the past.
Matthew also gives us a glimpse into the psychology of the different sexes. Women survive the privations of the present while working towards a more secure future; while the men live in the moment with virtually no illusions about a better future and drink lots of vodka.
Unfortunately this educated young American also spiraled into the hopeless cycle of alcoholism; pulling himself up just before the point of no return. He became so slovenly that one local Mongolian would not enter his ger because it was so filthy. It was a brutally honest self portrait, complete with racism and cursing. It was a riveting read, yet tawdry being dragged down to the gutter with him in his descent into alcoholism.
It gives an honest yet gritty picture of Mongolia, the hopes and dreams of a financially struggling people in between two economic paradigms with the deadly Soviet legacy of vodka singing its deadly siren song.
Matthew also gives us a glimpse into the psychology of the different sexes. Women survive the privations of the present while working towards a more secure future; while the men live in the moment with virtually no illusions about a better future and drink lots of vodka.
Unfortunately this educated young American also spiraled into the hopeless cycle of alcoholism; pulling himself up just before the point of no return. He became so slovenly that one local Mongolian would not enter his ger because it was so filthy. It was a brutally honest self portrait, complete with racism and cursing. It was a riveting read, yet tawdry being dragged down to the gutter with him in his descent into alcoholism.
It gives an honest yet gritty picture of Mongolia, the hopes and dreams of a financially struggling people in between two economic paradigms with the deadly Soviet legacy of vodka singing its deadly siren song.
November 3, 2011
Having lived in Mongolia for nearly 11 years including during the time this book covers, I have to say that Davis is very accurate in his portrayal of countryside life and of the state of the country. He's brutally honest about his experiences, not all of which paint a good picture of him, yet still comes out looking good at the end, mainly because he just truly seems to love Mongolia and the friends he made here. I kept thinking how he must have cringed to have his mom and dad read it after describing their visit to the country and admitting all he hid from them.
I've heard the history portions of the book described as boring and filler, but I actually felt it was the most accessible book on Mongolian history that I've read, because he connects everything with real life. That said, his experience will most probably not mirror that of other ex-pats living in the capital city, Ulaanbaatar, or even tourists visiting the countryside. Tourism is becoming sophisticated here. I would not, however, recommend visiting in the winter. Come in the summer when it's gorgeous! If you can brave the cold, come in the fall.
A definite read for any Peace Corps volunteer coming to Mongolia. No, actually, you should read it even if you're just interested in Mongolia. It's well written, a good book.
I've heard the history portions of the book described as boring and filler, but I actually felt it was the most accessible book on Mongolian history that I've read, because he connects everything with real life. That said, his experience will most probably not mirror that of other ex-pats living in the capital city, Ulaanbaatar, or even tourists visiting the countryside. Tourism is becoming sophisticated here. I would not, however, recommend visiting in the winter. Come in the summer when it's gorgeous! If you can brave the cold, come in the fall.
A definite read for any Peace Corps volunteer coming to Mongolia. No, actually, you should read it even if you're just interested in Mongolia. It's well written, a good book.
February 10, 2017
A very frank, honest depiction of the author's experience in Mongolia as a Peace Corps Volunteer, interspersed with well researched information about Mongolia's history. It's not "easy" reading, but this book taught me much about both.
July 15, 2016
The idea of reading this book was to see how a person from a similar culture coped with living in a frozen, remote and poorly equipped part of the world.
Naturally there was little for the author to do other than his teaching job with the Peace Corps, so the book had to have padding. The interlaced padding came in the form of well balanced history. Starting with Genghis Khan and a few other important events on the way to a good coverage of the 20th century and into the 21st century. However the personal time spent by the author was put to use and was mentally interesting, but basic.
How did the author cope with his two years in that environment? Despite supportive friends, both American and Mongolian, I think a third year would have broken him.
Well written and easy to read.
Naturally there was little for the author to do other than his teaching job with the Peace Corps, so the book had to have padding. The interlaced padding came in the form of well balanced history. Starting with Genghis Khan and a few other important events on the way to a good coverage of the 20th century and into the 21st century. However the personal time spent by the author was put to use and was mentally interesting, but basic.
How did the author cope with his two years in that environment? Despite supportive friends, both American and Mongolian, I think a third year would have broken him.
Well written and easy to read.
September 10, 2010
Davis's writing is quite competent and very readable, and I think that is the main reason I got to the end of it. The problem I had reading it was more of a problem with his experience in Mongolia itself. Nothing exceptionally profound happens there; it's just people living their lives, and their lives appear to be lived in the bottom of a bottle of vodka. It's difficult to get a sense of the beauty of the place through his writings. I did enjoy reading about the history of Mongolia within the context of his travels.
(note: he's an UMC graduate, from Chicago)
(note: he's an UMC graduate, from Chicago)
August 4, 2011
Davis contracted his 2 years of Peace Corps service into a single Mongolian "nine nines" year, which resulted in the book reading like a jumble of people and events compressed into a gimmick. Actual Mongolian storytelling elements are absent, and the author underwhelmed with his attempt to weave cultural and historical interest and memoir. His personal story was flat and spliced with blocks of Mongolian history that made me interested in neither. For a more interesting read on a similar topic, I highly recommend Peter Hessler's Oracle Bones or Country Driving.
July 22, 2010
Several years ago I considered traveling to Mongolia as part of a global trip but the country intimidated me, so I'm there vicariously through Davis who spent time there teaching English. The author integrated a lot of the history of Mongolia in his telling. For some reason, this didn't work for me. I found the historical passages tedious and not so illuminating.
August 27, 2010
I wanted to give this 3 1/2 stars. This interesting book was written by a peace corps volunteer who spent 2 years in Mongolia. He weaves his own story together with the history of the places he visited. One side-effect of reading this book is that I have no desire to ever visit Mongolia. The food, smoking, drinking, and pollution all sounded very grim.
October 1, 2019
What little interest this book did hold for me was probably due to my also being a Peace Corps Volunteer in Mongolia, albeit a decade after Davis. While many of the stories are interesting, they are presented in a vain, distasteful manner. I was glad to be done.
October 14, 2013
Exactly the kind of book I was looking for about Mongolia: part travelogue, part history, part ethnography, all wrapped up in story. Matthew Davis pulls back the curtain on a land full of mystery and wonder, while still preserving those attributes in his love for the people.
June 18, 2010
I picked this up on a whim and I'm glad I did. Although at times Davis seemed a little whiny, it was still an interesting read.
October 23, 2010
well written, but not what I was expecting. Mostly a lot of Mongolian history..
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