Möngö Notes

Posted on February 22, 2023 by admin

The winter storm blasting the upper states showed up in my neighborhood today first in the form of a lot of rain, but cold enough to leave a coating of ice on the bare trees and bushes. Then the rain itself started to freeze.

More currency with no Roman letters on it (well, not many). Three bits of currency, each measuring a diminutive 1¾ by 3½ inches, roughly the size of a business card.

I didn’t have to do any looking around to know who issued them: Mongolia. I’m familiar with Mongolian notes, ever since I picked up a few of them in Ulaanbaatar.

Besides, the Mongolian national symbol – the Soyombo, which appears in the national flag – is a certain giveaway.

“The Soyombo is… attributed to Zanabazar, the 17th-century leader of Mongolian Lamaism, a great statesman, and the father of Mongolian art and script,” says the University of Pennsylvania, including an interpretation of the ying-yang that’s new to me.

“The yin-yang symbol means that men and women are unified. During Communist times it was interpreted as two intertwined fish, which symbolize vigilance and wisdom, as fish never close their eyes.”

Not having eyelids isn’t quite the same as being vigilant, I’d say, and I don’t much associate fish with wisdom, but I suppose that’s just anthropocentric bias, isn’t it?

I didn’t pick up the notes in country. They came with the grab bag of international paper money cheapies, and are 10-, 20- and 50-möngö notes.

A möngö is one-hundredth of a tugrik (tögrög), the base unit. Considering that U.S. $1 fetches about 3,500 tugrik these days, even 50 möngö isn’t going to be worth much. Indeed, Wiki says of the notes, “Very rare in circulation. Abundant among collectors.”

The möngö notes depict Mongolian sports: archery, wrestling and horse riding. Those are known as the “Three Games of Men,” the Mongolian embassy to the U.S. tells me. It also says that “nowadays, track and field sports, football, basketball, volleyball, skating, skiing, motorcycle racing, mountain climbing, chess and other sports are widely played in Mongolia.”

Also, there’s a Mongolian American Football Association. Learn something new every day.

1 Ruble, Transnistria

Posted on February 21, 2023 by admin

I’ve looked at enough ruble-denominated currency to know what “ruble” looks like in Cyrillic, namely, рубль. This is somebody’s one-ruble note.

Not Russia, nor Belarus, which are the two nations that currently call their money that. Not the defunct Armenian ruble, Latvian ruble or Tajikistani ruble, either.

Instead, this is a Transnistrian ruble. To the naked eye, and not the scanner, those black rectangles are shiny silver, which I take to be an anti-counterfeiting measure. That inspires the question: who would counterfeit these notes? Perfidious Moldovans?

In news reports, Transnistria is inevitably referred to as a “breakaway” territory from Moldova that’s “Russian backed.” A polite way – and why do we need to be polite? – to call them Russian stooges. The map accompanying this article shows how that might be a geopolitical concern these days.

In any case, internationally unrecognized Transnistria has its own currency, with the one ruble sporting the famed Russian military commander Alexander Vasilyevich Suvorov, who did so much to facilitate his nation’s imperial expansion under Catherine the Great.

Field Marshal Suvorov has a more direct connection with Transnistria, however, since he’s considered the founder of modern Tiraspol, capital of the breakaway territory. He ordered fortifications built on the site late in the 18th century, though the city had antecedents going back to Greek settlement around 600 BC.

The reverse features an uninspiring image of a monument in Transnistria to one or both of the Jassy-Kishinev offensives of 1944, probably the second, since it was a smashing success for the Red Army and (remarkably) the U.S. Army Air Corps.

“On August 20, 1944, the Soviet Second Ukrainian Front, under the command of General Rodion Malinovsky, and the Third Ukrainian Front, under the command of General Fyodor Tolbukhin, launched a two-pronged attack against German Army South Ukraine…” the National World War II Museum explains.

“By August 23, the German Sixth Army had been surrounded by the two converging Soviet fronts. German air support was nowhere to be found, because it had been eliminated by the United States Fifteenth Air Force.

“While it does not receive a lot of attention, the offensive was one of the most successful joint operations of the war. It was quite an achievement, considering this was only the second time that the Americans and Soviets worked together. Yet you would have to look hard to find literature on the offensive. Perhaps it is time to give the Second Jassy-Kishinev Offensive the attention it deserves.”

2 Taka, Bangladesh

Posted on February 20, 2023 by admin

“Presidents Day” is here again, but no holiday for me. George Washington’s birthday isn’t until Wednesday, anyway. It’s all very well to honor the father of our country, but, like Dr. King, why couldn’t he have been born in some warmer month?

Here’s another banknote of mine without Roman lettering that I decided to identify over the weekend.

No Cyrillic, either. It turned out to be relatively easy to pin down, since most notes tend to feature one or the other, even if a country’s dominant language(s) are in another script. Another useful clue are the Hindu-Arabic numerals for the date, 2013.

It’s a two-taka note from Bangladesh, whose symbol is the curious ৳, which seems to suggest the Bengali script for the word, টাকা, but also a Roman t. Various sources say this note has mostly passed from circulation, replaced by coins. Also, its one-hundredth division, poysha, has evaporated in the heat of decades of inflation. In theory, a 2-taka note is worth just shy of U.S. 2 cents.

Speaking of fathers of nations, though a rather different example, father of Bangladesh Sheikh Mujibur Rahman is on the observe. Next to him is the National Martyrs’ Memorial near Dhaka, commemorating those who died for independence in bloody 1971.

In the upper right corner, the national emblem of Bangladesh. “Located on the emblem is a water lily, that is bordered on two sides by rice sheaves. Above the water lily are four stars and three connected jute leaves,” Wiki notes. Jute may yet have its day as a green fiber.

On the reverse, another memorial to the dead. In this case, the Shaheed Minar (The Martyr Tower) of the Bengali Language Movement, whose day happens to be tomorrow.

20 Rubles, Tajikistan

Posted on February 19, 2023 by admin

When I had something else to do the other day, naturally I decided it was time to find out where this banknote was from.

I’m assuming that’s the obverse. I’ve had it for a while, obtained as part of a package of banknotes from around the world that I bought for a modest sum a few years ago. They’re all of modest value. In many cases, as modest as possible: zero. This is one of those.

The first thing to look up were the nations that use Cyrillic, so I did. Then the flag threw me off, since I took it to be the Hungarian flag. Except Hungarians don’t use Cyrillic. Could there be some quasi-Hungarian entity somewhere that does?

No. Closer examination of the flag – and it is much harder to see with your eye than the scan – revealed a small gold crown topped by stars in the while middle bar. That proved to be the key. Tajikistan’s flag looks like that, so from there I took a quick look at that country’s currency.

These days, Tajikistan’s currency is the somoni, named in honor of Ismoil Somoni, a ninth-century (849-907) potentate of the region I previously knew nothing about.

He isn’t forgotten in Tajikistan. To quote Wiki: “With the end of Soviet rule in Tajikistan, Ismail’s legacy was rehabilitated by the new Tajik state. He is depicted on the SM 100 banknote. Also, the highest mountain in Tajikistan (and in the former Soviet Union) was renamed after Ismail. The mountain was formerly known as Stalin Peak and Communism Peak but was subsequently changed to the Ismoil Somoni Peak.”

So that’s what happened to Communism Peak. I’m sure I learned that was the highest mountain in the Soviet Union years ago – and that it had been Stalin Peak for a while – but hadn’t thought about it since.

The table of recent Tajikistani currency shows that I don’t have a 20 somoni note, because those weren’t issued until 2000. For a few years before that, however, the country used the Tajikistan ruble. That’s what I have.

The building under the flag is the Majlisi Oli, where the parliament of Tajikistan meets, for what it’s worth. Which probably isn’t much, considering that the nation’s strongman, Emomali Rakhmon, née Emomali Sharipovich Rahmonov, runs elections essentially the same way as in the Tajik SSR, to his president-for-life benefit. He apparently runs the country with a dash – more than a dash – of a cult of personality, too. I’m a little surprised he isn’t on the money.

“Poems were read in his honor in parliament, and the state media often compares him to the sun,” Deutsche Welle reports. “All around Tajikistan, posters with pictures and sayings of Rakhmon have been put up. In public, each person must address Rakhmon as Chanobi Oli, or ‘Your Excellency.’ “

Sea Creatures Along the Fox River Trail

Posted on February 16, 2023 by admin

Snow and sleet today. Faux spring has passed.

Actually, it was over before the snow — yesterday was fairly cold — but outside surfaces were dry enough to make walking reasonably safe, if not all that pleasant.

Last Saturday was pleasant for February, Sunday even more so, with temps over 50 degrees F. So we returned to the banks of the Fox River for another walk, but in Elgin instead, which is upriver from Batavia. We parked at a place called Slade Avenue Park on the map, though no signs on the grounds identified it as such. The Fox River Trail, which hugs the east bank of the river, passes through the park at that point.

The trail totals 32 miles all together, passing through Algonquin, Carpentersville, Dundee, Elgin, South Elgin, St. Charles, Geneva, Batavia and North Aurora. We headed north from Slade Avenue Park.

On the other side of a black fence next to the trail is the Slade Avenue Well No. 5, part of Elgin’s water infrastructure. It’s easy to look through the fence at the unpicturesque facility.

Though it’s a posted no trespassing area, an artist or artists clearly crossed the fence to paint an intriguing mural along a concrete wall just inside.

Details of which can be photographed from the trail, if you hold your camera just so. I’m not wont to trespass, but it wasn’t necessary to capture some images.

If our dog hadn’t been dragging me along, I would have documented the entire thing.

Fanciful sea creatures, from the look of it. The execution shows considerable talent. Who did it? Why there? How long ago? (It looks fairly new.) Does the city of Elgin know about it? If so, is officialdom planning to destroy it?

Cursory searches reveal nothing about it. Whatever its origin, I hope it is not destroyed merely for being in technically restricted space. It isn’t ugly tagging or thoughtless vandalism, but an odd and expansive mural that enlivens an otherwise completely nondescript concrete surface. There are too many plain concrete surfaces as it is; this is one less.

The Peace Bridge

Posted on February 15, 2023 by admin

Not long ago, I learned that gephyrophobia, an irrational fear of bridges, is a real thing. I find it a little hard to imagine. I’ve been on a few white-knuckle bridges in my time, such as the unnamed span that crosses the Mississippi from Savanna, Illinois, to Sabula, Iowa, which is as narrow as two-lane bridge can be and still be two lanes. But that was a rational reaction, not a generalized dread.

“In Michigan, the Mackinac Bridge Authority drives vehicles for free over a bridge that connects the state’s Upper and Lower Peninsulas and rises 199 feet above the strait below,” Car & Driver reports. “Formerly known as the Timid Driver Program, it’s now referred to as the Driver Assistance Program. Bridge staff, who are also responsible for escorting hazardous-materials trucks and maintenance chores, drive up to 10 people across the bridge each day.”

Mostly I have the opposite reaction to bridges, wanting to cross them in one way or another – walking, driving or by public conveyance. That includes the grand bridges I’ve crossed, such as Mighty Mac but also the Brooklyn Bridge, Golden Gate, Sydney Harbour and Seto-Ohashi, as well as mid-sized and smaller ones. Sometimes it’s an essential part of visiting somewhere, such as crossing the bridges on the Thames in London, the Seine in Paris and the Vltava in Prague. Or even the Tridge in Midland, Michigan.

In Batavia, Illinois, a footbridge crosses the Fox River from the west bank peninsula to the east bank. I had no hesitation in crossing it during our Saturday visit. It’s a fairly ordinary iron structure with wood planks, the kind you see in a lot of places.

Except for one feature, best seen from nearby.

It’s known as the Peace Bridge. The “PEACE” and “EARTH” letters are 12 feet tall; the “ON” letters eight feet. Beginning from their first installation in 2008, the letters were seasonal each year — around Christmas — but now they are year-round.

Remarkably, the sign was the idea of a local barber, Craig Foltos, owner of Foltos Tonsorial Parlor, who persuaded the Batavia Park District to install the letters he had fashioned (with help).

Foltos Tonsorial Parlor. I like that name so much I might have my hair cut there someday.

Windmills of Batavia

Posted on February 14, 2023 by admin

This is the Fabyan Windmill in Kane County, near the Fox River.

Nearly 15 years ago, we saw the Fabyan Windmill, which was brought to the site by the whim of a wealthy local resident years earlier. It’s still there. But we didn’t visit on Saturday, though it’s only a little north of where we went in Batavia.

We saw other windmills last weekend, all collected near the river in Batavia. None of them were Dutch-style. Instead, they were the kind you used to find, and still find, on North American farms and ranches.

Such as the Pearl Steel windmill, made ca. 1900 by the Batavia Wind Mill Co.

A plain sort of design. The people’s windmill, you might say.

In the late 19th- and early 20th centuries, Batavia was a hub of windmill manufacturing – a supplier of the technology to the nation. By mid-century, that was done, and Batavia moved past its windmill days until the 1990s. Then local citizens made an effort to find, acquire and erect Batavia-made windmills, mostly on the peninsula in the Fox River that we strolled around last weekend.

Another example: a Challenge Vaneless Model 1913 windmill. I like the floral aesthetics of this one.

A Goodhue Special, Appleton Manufacturing Co., early 20th century.

A Challenge 27 windmill, by the Challenge Wind Mill and Feed Mill Co., which is a later example (immediate pre-WWII years) and apparently a great success as a culmination of earlier cool Machine Age technology.

“As a self-oiling mill, the main casting served as its own oil reservoir,” the sign in front of the Challenge 27 mill explains. “Two large crank gears lifted the oil out of the reservoir and and carried it to both the pinion gears and an oil trough located at the base of the guide rods. From here the oil was lifted to lubricate the crosshead and then transmitted during every revolution of the wheel to the front main bearing under the wheel’s hub. From here, the oil flowed back to the reservoir through the force of gravity.”

Two more (among several others): Challenge OK Windmill, also by Challenge, but of less certain date, ca. 1900.

And a U.S. Model E.

Early 20th century again, made by the U.S. Wind Engine and Pump Co.

Excellent restorations, though they seem to be fixed in place, and so don’t turn with the wind anymore. Probably a preservation strategy. Still, windmill enthusiasts (there must be some) are advised to visit Batavia, and also to take a look at this handy guide to the machines rising over park land in that village.

Along the Fox River, Batavia

Posted on February 13, 2023 by admin

We’re having a few days of faux spring. I ate lunch on the deck today, and noticed that the croci in the back yard are just beginning to push upward. That’s in contrast to last year, when that happened well into March, and no there were blooms until early April.

Temps were in the upper 40s on Saturday, and there was no threat of rain, so we took a walk along the Fox River in Batavia, Illinois.

Not so warm that there still isn’t a film of ice. Faux spring, after all, is still winter.

We walked along a peninsula that juts into the river. It’s partly parkland, with an easy trail near the edge of the water all the way around.

At the northern tip of the peninsula is a gazebo. Called a “pavilion” on the signs, but I know a gazebo when I see one.

The Challenge Dam.

There’s been a dam of some kind on the site since the 1830s, originally providing water power for various small factories along the river (flour, ice, lumber, paper, stone), a function long relegated to the past. The current concrete dam is a bit more than 100 years old, taking its name from the Challenge Wind Mill and Feed Mill Co., whose building was next to the dam. More prosaically, it’s also called Batavia Dam, and there seem to be long-term plans in the works to remove it.

The former wind mill (and feed mill) building.

I didn’t take a closer look, but the Batavia Historical Society says the building is in use even now, “partially filled with various, small companies.”

The city of Batavia has a building on the peninsula.

And a bulldog statue.

The Bulldogs are the local high school mascot, and 15 painted bulldogs were to be found in Batavia in the warm months of 2018.

Taishō-Era Beer

Posted on February 12, 2023 by admin

Back to the vault of my old correspondence again, for a postcard I mailed from Japan nearly 29 years ago. I picked up a set of cards at the Sapporo Brewery in Sapporo, Hokkaido on our trip there in the fall of ’93. One reason to visit the brewery — the main one, as it happened — was dinner at the beer garden, for its splendid Mongolian barbecue.

The cards were reproductions of old advertising posters for that brand of beer.

A Taishō-era (大正) poster, in this case. In particular, Taishō 13, or as most of the rest of the world would call it, 1924.

As an era, Taishō didn’t last much longer, expiring in 1926 with the sickly emperor Yoshihito, who became known as Taishō posthumously. Taishō Democracy, such as it was, didn’t last much longer either, since like Weimar Germany, it had never really taken root, and the Depression laid the groundwork for its demise.

Thursday Collection: Claw Machines, Ramen & Dreams Odder Than Usual

Posted on February 9, 2023 by admin

Spotted recently at the mini-mall attached to Mitsuwa, the largest Japanese grocery store here in the northwest suburbs, which is in Arlington Heights.

Banks of Japanese claw machines where a travel agency used to be. Not quite sure what this one is.

The arcade, if you can call it that, is under the brand name Kiddleton Kiosk. Turns out there are quite a few of them, mostly associated with Japanese grocery stores in the U.S.

I never had much use for claw machines. Probably because they seemed like a good way to feed quarters, or tokens, into a machine, and watch it give you nothing. Maybe Kiddleton has a different business model involving a low cost of prizes, which do deliver sometimes, compared with a higher input of tokens. I didn’t feel like testing out that idea.

Not long ago, we went to Hokkaido Ramen House in Hoffman Estates. Hit the spot. Hot steamy ramen, mine with thin slices of pork, egg and some vegetables. Just the kind of thing to enjoy on a raw winter evening.

I didn’t realize it was part of a chain until after we were there. When I found out, I looked at the chain’s web site to see where the others were. California, I figured, and maybe in the Northeast and Texas. You know, the usual chain restaurant suspects.

Turns out there’s only one in California (Santa Cruz). Guess the Asian restaurant competition’s a little stiff in that state. There are indeed a few in the Northeast and Texas as well, including one in Waco, which is a little surprising. But the real surprise is five in Montana and three in Idaho. Then again, maybe not a surprise. It’s cold a lot in those places, and ramen warms you up.

Two old friends of mine met for the first time recently, in a dream of mine. One a lanky bald fellow I’ve known 40 years, the other sporting long gray hair and a thick beard for that Old Testament prophet look, whom I’ve know nearly as long. They were sitting at a table, with me, eating a meal, despite the fact that we were weightless in a space station. They seemed to be getting on well, and one of them, or me, or someone, explained that the company that built the space station had done so well renting cars that it was able to send people to the station at a low cost.

An even odder dream, later the same night: I climbed a ladder to rescue – kidnap? – a group of sentient pens and pencils. Semi-sentient, at least. I couldn’t carry them in a pocket, so I put the group of pens and pencils, who knew what I was doing, under my arms to carry them down the ladder. It all felt a little precarious.

Been There, Seen That

By Dees Stribling