Where the streets have no name...
In 1987, the Irish band U2 released a song called “Where the streets have no name”. Bono, the leader of the band and composer of the song, thought of Belfast, a city divided into two cities: the Protestant-unionist and the Catholic-republican. Depending on the street where a person lived, they were considered part of one or the other faction. The city of Belfast where the ‘streets have no name’ would be a synonym of a person with no label, free to be himself beyond prejudices.
In 2012, in Ulaanbaatar, we have a city where in fact the streets actually have no name. However, the romantic idea of Bono, of a city where its inhabitants are free from prejudices, has nothing to do with the situation of the capital city of Mongolia. In Ulaanbaatar the streets have no name because of the lack of urban planning. Actually, the streets have no name because nobody has given one to them.
For some, mostly foreigners who haven’t ever set foot in Mongolia or have visited for just a short holiday, this fact is the paradigm of Mongolian freedom: no names, no labels, no clichés, everybody is free to build wherever and whenever they want.
For others including most of the inhabitants of the city, that is the paradigm of the Mongolian nightmare. The simple fact of living on a street with no name and only a chaotic numeration system produces a range of small problems and nuisances and not few serious inconveniences.
Among the less important, but at the same time most common, issues that occur is to tell a friend where you live: My apartment is near the Wrestling Palace; It is the green building south of the bridge; Take the first street to the left, then you will see a small shop; Nearby there are three gers; If the fence is not closed, go through the field, but if it is, go back and opposite to the shop, etc.
What about shops? After paying for expensive commercials on TV, radio or newspapers, they expect thousands of new customers. But many of them never arrive. There is no address, just some hints and a telephone number. Unfortunately, ringing up costs money and many people cannot afford to call all the shops they are interested in visiting. For others, the problem is the language: if they cannot speak Mongolian, they cannot call. Lastly, there are those who, even after phoning, still cannot find the location of the shop, despite the complicated explanations of the clerk.
Nevertheless, there are some other very serious problems caused by this negligence. If a person becomes ill and calls an ambulance, how do they explain where they live? Once again, and in the case that the person can speak, long details about the colour of the building, the shops that are nearby, and so on are necessary.
It is true that on occasion an address will be give, especially by large companies; but where is “Peace Avenue 54”? Is it between 53 and 55? Or maybe it is between 52 and 56? Or even besides 79? If I am in front of number 6 Peace Avenue, which direction should I take; eastwards or westwards? Is it far? Is it really on Peace Avenue, or perhaps on any of the unnamed streets to the north or to the south, relatively near to Peace Avenue? Why besides number 6 do I see number 39? Are there any criteria? Can I really trust my eyes?
No, it is not a feature of the Mongolian traditional culture, it is part of Ulaanbaatar’s chaotic nature and inherited and preserved negligence. In fact it is not so difficult (nor so expensive) to give a name to all of the streets of the city. It doesn’t require a huge amount of imagination: numbers and letters, kings, countries, Mongolian provinces, cities, local or foreign heroes, anything would be valid to organise this anarchy.
It is not really necessary to talk about the merits of giving streets a name and a consequent numeration system. Most cities in the world use this system. Wouldn’t it be easier to say: “I live in number 545, Peace Avenue, because the front door of my building is actually on Peace Avenue, right between numbers 543 and 547? Wouldn’t it be better for businesses and for shops? Wouldn’t it be better for everyone in this city?
In 2012, in Ulaanbaatar, we have a city where in fact the streets actually have no name. However, the romantic idea of Bono, of a city where its inhabitants are free from prejudices, has nothing to do with the situation of the capital city of Mongolia. In Ulaanbaatar the streets have no name because of the lack of urban planning. Actually, the streets have no name because nobody has given one to them.
For some, mostly foreigners who haven’t ever set foot in Mongolia or have visited for just a short holiday, this fact is the paradigm of Mongolian freedom: no names, no labels, no clichés, everybody is free to build wherever and whenever they want.
For others including most of the inhabitants of the city, that is the paradigm of the Mongolian nightmare. The simple fact of living on a street with no name and only a chaotic numeration system produces a range of small problems and nuisances and not few serious inconveniences.
Among the less important, but at the same time most common, issues that occur is to tell a friend where you live: My apartment is near the Wrestling Palace; It is the green building south of the bridge; Take the first street to the left, then you will see a small shop; Nearby there are three gers; If the fence is not closed, go through the field, but if it is, go back and opposite to the shop, etc.
What about shops? After paying for expensive commercials on TV, radio or newspapers, they expect thousands of new customers. But many of them never arrive. There is no address, just some hints and a telephone number. Unfortunately, ringing up costs money and many people cannot afford to call all the shops they are interested in visiting. For others, the problem is the language: if they cannot speak Mongolian, they cannot call. Lastly, there are those who, even after phoning, still cannot find the location of the shop, despite the complicated explanations of the clerk.
Nevertheless, there are some other very serious problems caused by this negligence. If a person becomes ill and calls an ambulance, how do they explain where they live? Once again, and in the case that the person can speak, long details about the colour of the building, the shops that are nearby, and so on are necessary.
Fortunately, most ambulance drivers are prepared for this inconvenience, but it is not always easy. Let’s recall that in life and death situations every minute is precious and how many minutes does a driver lose trying to guess at night where is “the yellow building number 35 which is beside a little shop”? Believe it or not, it does happen.
It is true that on occasion an address will be give, especially by large companies; but where is “Peace Avenue 54”? Is it between 53 and 55? Or maybe it is between 52 and 56? Or even besides 79? If I am in front of number 6 Peace Avenue, which direction should I take; eastwards or westwards? Is it far? Is it really on Peace Avenue, or perhaps on any of the unnamed streets to the north or to the south, relatively near to Peace Avenue? Why besides number 6 do I see number 39? Are there any criteria? Can I really trust my eyes?
No, it is not a feature of the Mongolian traditional culture, it is part of Ulaanbaatar’s chaotic nature and inherited and preserved negligence. In fact it is not so difficult (nor so expensive) to give a name to all of the streets of the city. It doesn’t require a huge amount of imagination: numbers and letters, kings, countries, Mongolian provinces, cities, local or foreign heroes, anything would be valid to organise this anarchy.
It is not really necessary to talk about the merits of giving streets a name and a consequent numeration system. Most cities in the world use this system. Wouldn’t it be easier to say: “I live in number 545, Peace Avenue, because the front door of my building is actually on Peace Avenue, right between numbers 543 and 547? Wouldn’t it be better for businesses and for shops? Wouldn’t it be better for everyone in this city?
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