(Note: Almost all the photographs have a full-sized version if you click on them.)
Impressions
Mongolia is a country we hear very little about in the west. We think Mongolia, we think Genghis Khan and... that's about it. This country wedged between two superpowers is overshadowed by their reputations. But, surprisingly, it is the most democratic of the three and its language and culture are startlingly unique.
View from Our Hotel
Ulann Baatar: Likely because of Soviet influence for so many decades, it feels like a Russian city with an Asian atmosphere instead of the other way around. The use of Cyrillic as a written language (there are movements to go back to the original Mongolian script as seen on the base of the statue below) contribute to this, but unlike in Russia, attempting to sound out words is futile. Mongolian is a language all its own and listening to it spoken sounds like long vowels between repeated "shch" sounds. The main differences I found between UB and a Russian city are a lack of Orthodox churches, small wooden houses & ger tents on the outskirts, more intense traffic, and that people now notice by appearance that we are foreigners.
View from Our Ger
The Steppes: Once you are out of the city, you really see Mongolia shine. Over half of the population is still nomadic and survives with admirable self-sufficiency on the windy, treeless plain. I suspect there would be similarities between nomadic Mongolians and American Indians at their peak: groups of families in portable living structures moving from place to place, living off the harsh land as they have done for generations. The winters here are brutal, with averages in the -20 degree range. I rarely saw a fence in Mongolia; the animals roam as they please. And the people are warm, friendly, and welcoming.
Mongolia is the one place I immediately wanted to come back and experience again. Every corner of the country, from the camel rides in the Gobi desert to the canoeing in the mountains to the ger stays within an hour of the city, offers something unique.
Statue of Damdin Sükhbaatar in Sükhbaatar Square in the Center of Ulaan Baatar
(Can you guess what
baatar means? Answer further down.)
Our Own Personal Bathhouse
It was just after 6am when our train pulled into the station. I saw our guide from the window holding a sign that said "Shuren" (the sister company of Russia Experience here) and he gave us an extremely warm welcome.
The driver took us to a random hotel (i.e. not the one we would eventually stay in) and gave us the opportunity to use their bathhouse. This was awesome! We had just spent two nights on the train and were about to spend two nights in a ger so what a thoughtful gesture. On top of that, the hotel staff had to open the bathhouse especially for us (as it was so early in the morning) so we had it all to ourselves. Even better, it was a Japanese-style bathhouse! Very nostalgic for me with the slippers, the cubbies for your clothing in the changing room, the row of shower stations you sit at in the steamy bathing area, and the buckets to pour water over yourself. The hot tub was not filled, but we did not need it.
Afterward, we partook of the hotel's breakfast buffet which, similar to Russia, had tomatoes, cucumbers, slices of sausage, yogurt, fruit and cereal, but unlike Russia, also included fried eggs, soup, white rice and seaweed squares to put your rice into. Yum! Between the bathhouse, the Japanese programming on the television in the dining hall, and the fact that all the instructions were written in Japanese (as well as Russian and English), it was clear who the target market for this hotel was. While we ate, our guide talked nonstop about our schedule for the next few days and what would be happening when as far as pick-up times, mealtimes, all of it. (I absolutely love when people are as obsessed with schedules as I am.)
Wandering the City
Other Sights from Sükhbaatar Square:
A Lincoln-like Khan, The Mongolian Stock Exchange, and the Skyscraper Called "Blue Sky"
The driver then dropped the three of us off (our luggage still safely in the back of the vehicle) near Sükhbaatar Square and our guide took us on a walking tour of the city. Barely stopping to take a breath, he related information about events, dates, and historical facts as we walked, often taking back roads to get from one place to another. He also had the heart-pounding habit of crossing busy streets wherever he felt like it. Not an unusual habit at all by the local populace, it still made me a nervous wreck as this technique involves stepping out onto the street in front of a mass of honking cars headed in your direction and hoping they don't run you over.
There are no McDonald's in Mongolia. Nor Starbucks or Subway or 7-11. But, oddly, there are, count 'em, four locations of vegan chain "Loving Hut." And, believe it or not, a "BDs Mongolian Barbeque" but not because it's authentic or anything.
Gandan Khiid Monastery
Inner Monastery and Pigeons (Not Pictured: Some Confused Souls Selling Food for the Pigeons)
We tore across an extremely busy street and watched a two-wheel-drive van struggle to climb a steep dirt road with potholes as we made our way to the largest Tibetan Buddhist Monastery in the city. The tree-filled place was peaceful. The best part was that we arrived during a ceremony. About ten young men in orange robes were chanting in the center of the building (through the doorway above) and did not seem to mind if tourists walked around the outer path, as long as we walked clockwise. (And we did not have to wear headscarves, hooray!) Within, there was a photo of the Dalai Lama at my age. Along the edge was a bench where many women sat, hands clasped in prayer. Our guide occasionally stopped and imparted whispered information and, at one point, actually asked one of the non-chanting monks what they were praying about. They answered that they were praying for the next lives of the dead.
Right Photo is Standing Buddha's House!
Hands down, the coolest thing we saw here was inside the white building to the right above. A giant, gold, standing Buddha statue. (It is rare that Buddha is in a standing position.) We admired the "Eyes Wisdom" statue as we walked clockwise around it, spinning prayer wheels. Because of some awkward confusion where our guide said he could get us in without an admittance fee (isn't the fee included?) which made me hesitate in asking if I could pay the extra photo fee, I did not take any pictures. (You can Google it, though. Impressive statue.)
As we walked out of Buddha's building, we saw the same German ladies again! We said hello to each other. We appear to be very nearly on the same itinerary as these two.
Back to Peace Street
We walked from the peaceful quiet monastery along a lovely tree-lined path back to the noise and bustle of the main thoroughfare of the city: Peace Street. Along the way, we passed a well where our guide said it was 1 Tugrik per litre. (It is 1300T to the dollar.) Since I have heard that the ger-tent-suburbia of the city does not have municipal facilities, the existence of the well makes sense. I had noticed, as we walked the streets of Ulaan Baatar, that many people (especially women) were entering unmarked cars after talking briefly to the driver. "Every car is a taxi," our guide explained. Quite a lot of high-end models are here too. I spotted a Lexus and a Prius, though many are right-side driving (i.e. second-hand from Japan.)
We changed money on Peace Street and the bank was so sleek and fancy, it baffled my mind that Mongolian currency is not recognized outside the country. This city, like the ones in Russia, are so modern and connected to the world, why the hassle?
That's Certainly Where Donuts I Eat Go
It is ridiculously easy to find free WiFi along Peace St. We plugged in at Cafe Amsterdam, one of said places, though the price for my modest lunch of a small Greek Salad, a chocolate croissant, a hot chocolate and a bottle of water was pushing $10. See, did I say modern city or what?
I noticed that a lot of store names and advertisements are English (not Cyrillic or Mongolian), even more so than in Russia. Our guide said that most Mongolians can read the Latin alphabet.
Our guide took us to a large building called the State Department Store (not clear whether that is supposed to be a pun or not) where he used my well-established trick of finding a clean bathroom in a big city: go to a fancy department store and, here's the important part, go to the second floor. Indeed, it was clean and Western style (and had signs that made it clear that you do indeed put toilet paper in the wastepaper basket, not in the toilet.) We took escalators along the five-story atrium and ended up at a high-end souvenir shop. Almost bought slippers (suspect they are warm) and Rachel checked out the boots, but all we ended up with was a T-shirt, at nearly full back-home prices.
Your Guess is as Good as Mine
Leaving the City
We met our driver again, our luggage still in the back, and the four of us took off! I tried to ignore what seemed like constant close calls with other drivers and pedestrians and gazed at the rapidly disappearing city. We spotted a place that appeared to be a dirt yard with a row of giant, open cargo containers (like you'd see on a semi) filled with tires that people were selling. With the way the road deteriorated the farther we got from town, perhaps tires are a common necessity. Soon, all we were seeing was the occasional ger surrounded by a fence, grazing cows / horses not fenced in, and once a random man with an eagle on a stick that was selling the chance to photograph it (?) We passed a grove a trees that our guide called "The 100" but admitted he had never counted. Those were the few trees we were to see at all over the next two days. We had been on the road about forty minutes perhaps when...
Out of nowhere, A Giant Freaking Statue!
Seriously!
The empty, brown rolling hills had been getting more and more desolate the further we went from the city, but then a huge, steel man on a horse came into view. Ha, it's like I've never left Denver! Head east into the desolate brownlands outside the city and suddenly there is a giant horse statue! (At least this one did not have red, glowing eyes.) So here we are, in the middle of nowhere. And there is Genghis Khan.
Stainless Genghis
Based off some of the plans I saw within the building, this complex is far from finished. That may have explained why we were one of only three cars in the ginormous parking lot. And why they had to actually turn on the lights and open the museum on the lower floor to show it to us. And why the young woman who gave us a tour around the museum looked nervous and had the least understandable English I'd ever heard. But, in my mind, the building was done and, more importantly, the statue was done, what else do you need? The statue is clearly the main attraction here. I mean, look at the thing.
Sneaking Up on a Giant
(Ahem) Someone Left Their Boot in the Lobby...
The Mane Stairwell
Khaaaaan!
Can you believe they let us climb this thing? Our guide took us to the elevator and boom, we were climbing stairs that were actually up the horse's mane. Clever! And, being the only guests here, we had Genghis to ourselves.
The top was windy. Very windy. But to be honest, it had been windy from the moment we left Ulaan Baatar.
The museum on the bottom floor had many artifacts of Mongolian history: armor, jewelry, weapons and the like. We also got to watch a video on the building of the statue. We learned that it was built in 2008 (recent!) and took 8 months to complete. During the video, our guide fell asleep in one of the many empty chairs, so we admired the interesting art hanging in the room. A few of the pieces Rachel named include "Salute to Eclipse by 3-Horned Woman" and "Earth and Sky Getting it On."
View from the Top
The Room Inside the Horse
Back to the (Empty) Parking Lot
Off Roading On Our Way to the Ger
Bouncing Along Toward the Ger Lodge
We were lucky. Unlike many other stories of rural Mongolian travel I'd read about, we were in a nice Toyota Land Cruiser, not a Soviet-era Russian Jeep. Therefore, we did not bounce uncomfortably when our driver turned off the paved road onto a dirt road then just onto the steppe (!) going around gullys and dodging horses.
Soon enough an outpost of white, cylindrical tents came into view. We parked at the edge of the camp and brought our luggage across the sandy ground to our tent. We discovered two things: One, that our guide would not be leaving us here. He would be staying (in a different tent) and eating meals with us. And two, that we were the only guests there!
I was glad Rachel was with me, otherwise, it would have been me, the sole guest, and the half dozen staff of the Elstei Ger Lodge. Having the place to ourselves was just coincidental as the lodge is open all year. We saw in the guestbook that people had just been there and more were due to arrive the day we left.
Yurt Love!
The Elstei Ger Lodge
Entrance to Our Ger
Our ger was awesome! I loved it! (And I only banged my head once going in.) There were four beds along the edge and a table and stools in the middle. Everything was orange and cheerful. We had, unlike a real ger, electricity comprising of one outlet and a single light bulb. We also had a "sink", a metal canister filled with water that comes out of a faucet we can turn on and off, and goes into a bucket. But the main building has full (clean) toilet and shower facilities, though we never actually tried out the shower. They do have hot water, apparently, but the water out of the sink was icy cold.
Every half hour or so, including a couple times overnight, a young woman or man knocked and entered our ger to tend to the woodstove. As it was quite chilly outside, this was appreciated, though it became uncomfortably hot once or twice. Also, you should make sure you lock the door from the inside while you are dressing since, even though they knock, it is so windy, they would never hear you if you said not to come in (nor would they understand you as their English is severely limited.) But do not leave it locked or you will miss firewood updates. The doors do not lock from the outside.
They also provided a thermos of hot water and two small tea cups. But no tea. (I used my own and enjoyed sitting in the toasty ger sipping my chamomile.) Perhaps, like in China, guests enjoy just hot water.
Life at the Ger Lodge
Main Building with Windy Flags and (Importantly) the Facilities!
Mealtimes were at 9am, 1pm, and 7pm. A little closer together than I would have wanted given the hearty size of the meals, but I liked the regularity. Several tables are in the main building to accommodate quite a crowd, but it was just the three of us. Our guide was often helping the staff, even setting the table and serving us. Dinner the first night comprised of a potato-egg-salad appetizer followed by six huge dumplings stuffed with ground meat with spicy sauce on the side. Dessert was a thin banana shake.
As we ate, our guide waxed philosophical on the nature of being a "guide" concluding that is more than speaking English and leading clients around but it is understanding and meeting expectations. We learned that he lives in a ger with his family and young son but still enjoys staying at the lodge. We also learned that:
Sandy Elstei
- Elstei means "white sand" or "sandy" and indeed, the land was more white sand than dirt
- If you see a pile of rocks, it is pointing toward Heaven
- The orange color used in the ger represents the sun, as does the circular top and the eighty or so wooden supports (rays).
- The two columns in the middle are husband and wife
- The right side of a ger (near the hearth) is for women, the back is for men and the left is for guests.
- Mongolias do not eat a lot of chicken, fish, or pork. They primarily eat beef and (famously) mutton.
- Apparently, 98% of Mongolia has cell coverage, so everyone has a cell phone
- Our city-born guide also said the countryside is the best bar because the cows and sheep do not care what you drink
We both took walks around the lodge. Rachel found a skull and we both were barked at by the lodge dogs, which were generally leashed unlike the horses. The temperature dropped and, as evening fell, it started to snow! But it was warm and comfy in our big white tent.
Pastime in Mongolia
Tourist Activities: Part 1
View from My Horse
The next morning, I dressed in serious layers, putting on about every item of clothing I brought, even wearing my gloves and using a t-shirt wrapped around my neck as a scarf. Patches of snow were on the ground from the previous night and the constant strong wind was very chilly. After our giant breakfast: overeasy eggs, slices of beef sausage, a bowl of porridge, coffee, warm wild berry juice, and enough rolls (including chocolate-filled) for an army, we signed the release form about the raised-in-the-open and technically "feral" horses we were about to ride. He gave us helmets, which we thought were silly, but they kept our heads warm, and some padding to wear around our calves. Then we walked to the edge of the lodge and got on some horses!
I've been atop an animal only about five times in my life, so the Horse Lord led my horse for the first part so I could get used to it. When he finally let me lead my horse on my own (I had to ask our guide to ask him), the horse continued lagging behind. I learned that he was the brother of Rachel's horse, whom he followed without break no matter how many times I said chuu to him, so I named him Little Brother.
The Mongolians appear to treat the horses gently, steering and stopping with the reins (not much kicking I believe) and saying "chuu" in various tones to move them forward. The pace was a very slow walk. I would have preferred to speed up a bit once we got the hang of it, but I guess they were playing it safe with the tourists. My horse did break into a trot once (following Rachel's horse) but for only about three steps. At one point, Rachel's horse paused, leaned forward, and had a 'horse pee'. Heh.
I had a moment where I had the urge to steer my horse and gallop off into the distant mysterious hills to see what lay beyond.
We decided to pause for a photo and, for the first time since we began riding, my horse did not follow the other horses when they stopped. Little Brother simply continued walking out onto the Mongolian countryside. I pulled on the reins, but nothing happened. The Horse Lord rode up beside me and pulled on the reins harder, and the animal stopped and allowed itself to be led back with the others. Next time we stopped (for a 'man pee' heh) I pulled on the reins sufficiently hard and he stopped. Then, he decided it was time for a snack and pulled repeatedly forward with his head until I eased up on the reins so he could munch on some grass. All in all, we gave them 20,000T for our hour-or-so tour plus tip. Less than $10 each.
Our Horse Guide and Random Rider we ran into
Passing Time in Mongolia
Tourist Activities: Part II
Clearly: Camel, Horse, Goat, Sheep
After our horse ride, we ate lunch, despite still being full from breakfast, having: a salad with thin strips of carrots, apples, and lettuce to go with a thick, meaty soup with potatoes and beets in it. Then more meat. More potatoes. And rice. With raisin juice for dessert (with raisins at the bottom.) And as we relaxed in our ger afterward - my knees and legs recovering from the strangeness I had put them through this morning - our guide came in with a cylinder full of... bones.
Sheep and goat's ankle bones, to be precise. He laid out a woolen placemat and took out the bones. They are consistent enough that they have four distinct sides, each side representing an animal (which we learned to distinguish with a bit of practice) so serve very well as dice. We learned two different games. One was a kids' game: a camel race. We set out all the bones on the "camel" side and then had two "racing camels." Taking turns, we would move the number of camels we rolled of four. Notably, the camel and horse, being narrower, come up less often than the sheep and goat.
In the second game, we rolled seven bones out on the mat. Then we had to flick a bone and hit a matching bone (same animal) without touching any other. If we were successful, we would choose a bone to take as a point. (You win when all bones are taken.) One strategy happens if one of the bones rolls over when you flick it and changes into a different animal, which may work better (or worse) with the other bones, so bone choice is important there.
Love Stories
Distant Snow-Capped Mountains
(To make up for lack of related pictures)
We got to know the staff a bit. The lady with the green robe was the manager and we watched her oversee the construction of a new ger across from ours, which was interesting to watch. (They can get those things up fast!) Listening to the throaty garbled language, said loudly over the wind, made it sound angry at first, but then it was always followed by laughter.
We also had a longer conversation with one of the younger staff members even though he only knew a couple dozen words of English (two of them being Justin and Bieber) and a smattering of Japanese. We learned a third bone game from him, a lot like Jacks. He was a lucky recipient of a Rachel hat and had it on every other time we saw him after that! He also related his romantic tale... the gist appeared to be that he just had a job here for the summer and then would return to his home in northeastern area of the country then go to Japan where his fiancée was waiting for him She is learning Mongolian and he is learning Japanese and are apparently sad to be apart. He looks at the moon and stars and imagines he is with her. Very sweet. We wished him well.
Bad Archery
Gers at the Lodge
(To make up for lack of related pictures)
We were shown a video about Mongolia. Despite feeling a bit like an advertisement, it was eye-opening to see how different the various corners of Mongolia are and discover all the neat activities you can see and do here. I am interested in coming back for sure. Perhaps in winter, even! In the afternoon, we tried some archery. Even the dog watching us who was aggressive at first got bored. Tourist Activities III: Fail. Aside from the wind, it was difficult just to get an arrow actually shot, though toward the end, we were getting the hang of a technique.
The guestbook was pretty evenly split between Japanese and English entries with some Korean, Chinese, Italian, and Russian thrown in for good measure. Even one in Mongolian script. Everyone loved the place and cute drawings of animals were in abundance. We added our own entries.
Dinner was a huge affair again. Cucumbers, tomatoes and cheese cubes on romaine followed by mutton pasta with carrots and potatoes. The pasta didn't seem hot but it was likely because the dining area is not heated (at least it was not for us) so food cooled quickly and I was ever thankful of the hot tea served with every meal. A yummy pudding custard type thing was for dessert.
Wild Wild Horses.... Couldn't Drag Rachel Away
Last Night on the Steppe
After dinner, several horses were gathered near the main building, having a meal as well. We watched them for some time until a member of the staff (and a dog) chased them away.
Then....
The wind stopped.
For the first time since we arrived, we could actually have a conversation outside without raising our voices. The night was beautiful. Stars were coming out and smoke was puffing out of our ger chimney. So quiet.
After night fell, I went outside. The stars were beautiful, but the landscape was much spookier. Darkness in every direction except for the light on the main building. Giant shadows in the near distance looked like horses, but turned out to be wooden structures the next morning.
One thing I did observe: without the constant wind flapping the plastic cover of our ger roof all night, we got to hear dogs barking all night instead.
Back to the City
View from the Top of the Hill Near the Monastery
Khan on the Mountain
The staff of the ger lodge gathered and saw us off. Our driver bounced along the dirt road back toward the city and, to my surprise, had to pay to enter Ulaan Baatar. About 500T (45 cents). We dropped our luggage off at the nice, but slightly cigarette scented, hotel room, bought a coca-cola, and wandered around town. We checked out the dinosaur bones at the somewhat low budget Natural History Museum. (Apparently, Mongolia has all sorts of dinosaur bones; many species I'd never heard of. I think one was a Trembosaurus?) The English translations left something to be desired.
We ate lunch at one of the many ubiquitous fast-food joints with the word "booz" in it. (Looks sort of like bYY3 in Cyrillic.) The short menu had no English, so we were baffled at both the content and portion size of choices. A guy at a nearby table helped us translate a few items but when the busy waitress finally got to our table, she did not have half the items we ordered. We ended up with a dumpling filled with beef (with hard bits in it) and something very deep fried. It was enough for a big snack and about $1.50.
After hearing about the poverty in Ulaan Baatar (over 1/3 of the population is below the poverty line), I expected to see more of it. Although we mostly kept to the main drag, even the few side streets we wandered did not have a lot of transients that I could tell. Less than a big city back home. There were a lot of signs saying to be careful of pickpockets. I also did not sense that danger. Hmmm.
Meeting Locals Among the Modern Art
Mongolian Boots!
By far the best place we saw in Ulaan Baatar was the Mongolian National Modern Art Gallery. The entrance is hard to find since you have to enter a nondescript courtyard in the block-large Palace of Culture, right near Sükhbaatar Square, but this was a fantastic museum. Great art, impressive wood sculptures, mind-bogglingly-detailed bone carvings, and a very neat display of photographs that a Frenchman took of Mongolia 100 years ago (in 1913.) We both loved it. At this museum, we kept running into a lady about our age who offered to answer any questions, although her English was limited.
We ended up spending the afternoon with her (she actually wanted to practice English...) and had a great time! She is 31 and single and said there is a fair amount of pressure to get married if you have a boyfriend. Her English did improve a bit as we talked, but it was far from fluent. She was a little less risky than our guide at crossing the street (but no one except me wants to wait for the little walk symbol at traffic lights) and she helped Rachel in her Boot Quest! Later, we ate at a slightly nicer booz joint and checked out the most random monument ever (see below.)
I've Never Seen That On a Menu Before!
The crazy street-crossing antics of the entire population took on a whole new dimension at night in neon-filled Ulaan Baatar. But Rachel was brave and getting the hang of walking into traffic. We counted and saw a total of only four bicycles during our stay in the city except for this evening where it is apparently romantic for a couple to rent a bike-built-for-two and ride around Sukhbaatar Square.
We found one of the two restaurants I had memorized the location of from my guidebook and ate there. Luckily "Nomad Legends" took credit cards as we were almost out of cash. The menu was lovely, with good photos, organized with which-meat-is-in-this-dish icons, and plenty of English. The English seemed pretty good until I turned a page and read "Sheep's Head." I thought someone made an error... until I saw the accompanying photo. (Which I think I will never forget.)
Yes, at this place, you could order *an entire Sheep's Head* for dinner. ("For 2 people.")
The only other odd item on the menu was Horse. I ended up with a tame meatball soup. My cocktail of the night was bright blue and called a "Pom Pom" and Rachel enjoyed a pink Cosmo with "the best maraschino cherry I've ever had."
Sukhbaatar Square on a Weekend!
Have you guessed?
Bataar means "Hero"
Next Time...
Next time I'm in Mongolia, I want to check out the puzzle-filled "International Intellectual Museum" and perhaps check out the elaborate street market (maybe I'd actually have to watch for pickpockets there?) I also want to stay with a family in a real ger and maybe even ride a camel!
We had to leave at 6:30am and, kindly, the hotel packed breakfast for us (our guide arranged it) so we had some food to eat on the next leg of the train.
