So, Arban met a girl there. Well, they were introduced by a mutual acquaintance, his father’s boss, a general in the internal security. Her family was in government, high and very powerful. Her father, actually, was the Minister of the Internal Affairs and in charge of the internal security. Arguably, he was the most powerful man in the country. Her family wanted to give Arban a hand up so, maybe he could become a Minister one day. They wanted him to be a Minister of Health and later, of something better. “Why not, thought Arban. That was a good life, even in Mongolia. He had the knowledge, connections, and the funds if needed. Everyone would help him. Of course, that would be an investment in him, and he would pay it back with interest. He could do it.” Thus, the goal was set, the plans were drawn, and the entire family on both sides of the border was fully engaged. Even though Uzbekistan did not border Mongolia, but through Kazakhstan, everyone knew each other already. They all traveled in one direction or another helping each other with every problem. It was a true union of two entirely different clans, and it worked so well. Those people, even so different, were not that diverse. There were no arguments, no conflicts, no significant disagreement, or even small cracks in the relations that nothing could go wrong. If they did it right, everyone would benefit greatly. That was so clear. These two completely different sides of the world suddenly came together with a common goal.
At the age of thirty, Arban was a Deputy Minister of Health and, at the age of thirty-five, the Deputy Prime Minister. At forty-five, he was the President of the country. Of course, it could take longer if the Soviet Union did not fall apart, and things did not start to move along much faster. Money became more persuasive than ever and the money they had. All sides of the family pledged the funds that could make it happen, and it did happen. The boy everyone liked so much was the President of Mongolia now, and that meant everyone would prosper and fast. Corruption was the name of the game and corruption they knew. They could write a book on corruption and maybe one day they would. Mongols and Uzbeks wrote a book on, the subject before, and they could do it again. The main lesson from that book was: “If you could not buy someone, you did not offer enough. Offer more and more until it’s enough. This is only an investment.” That’s what Arban’s father-in-law said repeatedly, and everyone agreed.
So, once again, the wife was not home. He liked those rare moments more and more. He appreciated the freedom, not that he was not free before. Still, he was somewhat looser than when she was around. And, once again, Arban used the opportunity and visited his most favorite girlfriend. Tradition called for many girlfriends, and the great Khans, had hundreds of wives and concubines, but times had changed and, not mentioning the time, no one could afford so many women. Think of gifts, apartments, dinners, and many other things. Where to find time for all that? What if there were children? What to do then? And, on top of it, where would one find so many women in a country of only two million people. Of cause, one could explore the overseas, but that involved so much hustle and could bring in unwanted attention. It was much easier for the Great Khan. He started wars, and that helped the issue. Well, good women had to be exported. No, no, not slaves but exported. So, Arban had only ten, and even that was a handful, and the favorite one was from Ukraine. She was a good woman by all standards. Her father used to be a high up party member, but the social revolution and the recent changes left him outside the system. That was hard times for many and in all former Soviet Republics.
Almost a hundred former officials from the Soviet Union and a few other socialist countries came to Mongolia. They needed a place to hide and not just to hide but also to hide comfortably. Mongolia was readily available but for the price. What the proud members of the Communist Party could offer to the honorable members of the foreign government in exchange for the decent living in that foreign country when they had no power left? They offered anything and even their wives, sisters and daughters came in to play. That was a healthy and very happy arrangement. So, some money, a few connections that still work, knowledge of a few secrets and the friendly attitude could help to survive and often, could go far and even further than that.
All of the former Soviet-era officials had some money stashed away; a few, still had powerful connections, and everyone was friendly with anyone who could be helpful. And, they tried to be beneficial to each other. They knew each other for ages and accomplished a few mutually beneficial projects. Who would you trust now a newly established wannabe or someone you accepted before and who may need your help soon enough? Thus, everyone felt like home in Mongolia, well taken care of and being in charge. Even if you were not in charge, you felt that way. If they had to live in Mongolia to survive the troubling times, so be it. There could be jail or something more terrifying. Your former friends could be your worst enemies. The horror stories were hard hitting. The new people in power were paying back to the old ones. The new ones wanted everything the old ones had and more. They were out for blood. So, people were tortured, imprisoned, and even killed, and that was only the beginning. No one knew where it would go, but staying put was dangerous. Thus, anyone who could took to the road. It did not really matter where to go but where to go from. There was too much at stake to stick around so, they did not wait for long.
President Arban Vagabundi came back to the palace around one o’clock in the morning being slightly drunk and feeling a little tired. That was a little too much pleasure even for him. The Ukrainian girlfriend was tireless, and he worked all day long. Yes, he had a great evening, but now, he needed to wind down and rest. Tomorrow would be another busy day. It never stopped in the palace. His heart was singing and calling for another drink. He liked this American Bourbon. Bourbon Whiskey or a Single Malt Scotch Whiskey — what a choice. So, he had another drink and went directly to the bed. It was a slow drink that soothed him down while he was looking out the window at the lights of the capital. Yes, they had lights at night now in Mongolia and the nightlife. It was not there just a few years ago. How much had changed and basically, in no time? Was it his doing? Well, not all but he contributed a lot. He supported and promoted the reforms that allowed the private businesses to mushroom and flourish throughout the country. He was concentrating on the small family type of companies more than his predecessors. He thought that the family business was much closer to the Mongolian heart than a factory. Arban’s predecessor wanted to utilize the leftover Soviet structure, but that did not work very well. Only a few facilities were in good shape and could fit into a more or less free society. But, the rest of it had failed even before the Soviet collapse. The apparel manufacturing factory that used to be managed by the grandfather was sold to a private company funded from Uzbekistan, modified, and put back online. Now, they produced somewhat decent clothes that were becoming popular throughout the region. They even had their own designer or two. The majority of employees were from the former Soviet Union, mostly Russia and Ukraine. The mismanaged factories there closed as well so, good professional people suddenly became available. Mongolia offered them jobs with good pay and the full relocation package. Many and from different industries came. The leather factory and a few smaller shops were doing very well. They were selling internationally, making a good living. The goods were not the best, but the prices could not be beaten. The labor cost and the raw materials were low enough to beat the competition. In short, thanks to reforms, some of the industries survived; some, grew up and expanded, and some, were entirely new and even profitable. A few things looked promising. No, Mongolia was not going down but up, up, up. However, more work had to be done, more money was needed, and brains with workable ideas were hard to find.