Mongolian Independence Day Weekend

It was a fairly exciting weekend. Saturday found Naomi, Maureen and I taking a hike up one of the smaller nearby mountains. As Maureen has some difficulty with ledges, it was a fairly momentous occasion for her to get to the top. She did occasionally have to ask for a little help. That night, some of the staff attended a get-together at the nearby house of some parents from South Africa. The people are amazing, and we were treated to plenty of hamburgers, soup, salad, popcorn and, of course, alcohol.

Sunday, the excitement increased slightly, as Dan and I decided to climb a significantly taller mountain. Deciding that warmth was more important than grip, I wore my new riding boots, which are hand-made with Mongolian leather and have a felt liner on the inside. They, unfortunately have little grip on the soles, and I found my feet sliding a little more than I had hoped. Nonetheless, we made it to the top, and travelled along the ridge to the largest ovoo I have seen so far. While there, we met a Mongolian soldier, named Erdenbileg, who was going to be leaving for Sierra Leone in a month to go to war (I didn't know Mongolia was at war with anyone, let alone a West African country). We found that he had daughters of 16 and 18, and would be gone for 5 months. He asked us to join him in his prayer, lighting incense, and walking around the ovoo. It was a great honour to be asked by this complete stranger to literally pray for his life. After some time with him, we parted ways with some excited good-byes, and started making our way down the mountain. On the way down, Dan fell a couple of times, whereas I... fell down the mountain. Not in a head-over-heels, movie-esque way, but I was definitely on my ass more than on my feet. It didn't take long to realize that the lack of grip on my boots allowed for a form of tobogganing, with one foot under me, and one in front to avoid crashing into any hidden rocks, any visible rocks, and even more importantly, any trees that were in my way. This was mostly successful, with a use of my hands to aid with steering, and I found myself travelling 60 or more feet at a time, with a single push (luge-style) with my hands.

Monday, I went shopping on my own for some groceries, only to find that almost all of the stores that I wanted to have open, were pretty much the only ones that were closed that day. After finding about 10% of the items I set out for, I hailed a fake-cab, and got a ride home. On the way home, I found out the guy grew up a few doors away from where the school is, but even more remarkably, he lived in Canada. He asked where I was from, so I responded "Ontario." He then mentioned that he went to the University of Western Ontario. As the conversation progressed, I found out that he lived in the same apartment building that I lived in, just three apartments down the hall, but a few years before. I think this falls into the "extremely small world" category. That afternoon, some of us went to the Mongolian wrestling tournament.

Mongolian wrestling is an interesting sport. There are no weight classes, and it seems that the lightest fighters get matched up against the largest in the first round. There are about 15 matches at a time (although only about 7 referees, and I use that term loosely). They are not constrained by any sort of ring, and matches often run into one another. There is a surprising level of gentlemanly conduct involved. The costumes are just as odd, as the fighters wear tight briefs and an open jacket. Legend holds that some time, centuries ago, a female sneaked into a tournament, managed to win, then bared her breasts to everyone, so now the jacket is designed to show that the competitors are male... or at least don't have breasts. I have no idea who won, but some of the matches took seconds to end, while others took as long as 1/2 hr.

All-in-all, a wonderful long weekend. Oh, and Glen, this is waaaayy better than your WWE.

Long Weekend

So, report cards, and parent-teacher interviews are over. They went surprisingly well, and was regularly thanked for all of my hard work in educating their children. After two consecutive half-days for the interviews, we now have a long weekend, as Monday is Mongolian Independence Day. Today, the school's financial officer asked me if I was going to go see the wrestling on Monday. Immediately, my reaction was, "There's a wrestling tournament on Monday?" and "What better way to celebrate Mongolian independence than by watching what Mongolians love most - beating each other up." Of course, I have never experienced live Mongolian wrestling, so I began to investigate this event. I had to find out when, where, how much it cost, how to get tickets, and how many people wanted to go. After a quick poll, six of us decided to go to the event. I still had no idea how I could buy tickets. I asked several people, none of which knew anything about the event, before I got to the school's receptionist, Nasaa. Nasaa, in turn asked Ganbold (who speaks next to no English), who in turn picked up the phone and called the Wrestling Palace. First, I wondered how he knew the number so quickly, and second, I was fairly excited about the up-coming answer. Ganbold told Nasaa, who translated for me that we had to buy the tickets today at the Wrestling Palace for T 5000 each.

Andrew and I made the trek after our interviews were over. After a bus ride to UB Mart, we hailed a cab. We were picked up by a man in full military dress uniform. He inquired about where we are from. After we responded by saying "Канад," (Canada) he told us that he is Mongolian. I was a mite dumbfounded by this, and made the response (with some gesturing to his uniform), "I can see that." After some jovial broken Mongolian conversation, he dropped us at the Palace. As we went to the ticket booth, we we bombarded by scalpers trying to sell us tickets to tonight's concert. Since I only know how to say 'today' and 'tomorrow', I had to try to explain that I wanted tickets for 3 days from now. This didn't go so well, and I eventually discovered they ONLY had tickets for tonight. We eventually found the ticket booth, and after a similar conversation, I found a ticket on the window, pointed and said "zorga!" (six) The man was a little surprised, since there were only two of us.

Moral of the story: I'm going to live Mongolian wrestling on Monday.

Mongolian Barbecue

A group of us decided the other night, that after a particularly stressful and difficult week at school (we had a visit from an accrediting agency, report cards are beginning, my foot is still injured, my grandmother is suffering through some health problems, and the rest of the staff had their own problems to deal with as well), we were going to go out for dinner. Seven of us made the trip to BD's Mongolian Barbecue. As I was sitting in the restaurant, I realized just how absurd it is for this restaurant to exist in this city.

For those of you who have visited Mongolian Grill, imagine a restaurant that is identical in every way, except for decoration. BD's is and American chain, which has a number of locations across the US. Here's where the absurdity kicks in. Mongolian Barbecue is a creation of North Americans and is as Mongolian as apple pie (which I have yet to see here).

It seems odd to me that an American company would open a restaurant in Mongolia that specifically claims to be Mongolian food, while there is nothing Mongolian about it.

What's more, the slogan seemed to somewhat politically incorrect. For a mere $10, one can purchase a t-shirt, with a small logo on the front, while the back reads "Go Mongo!"

Some of My Favourite Gobi Pictures

Here are a few of my favourite pictures from my excursion to the Gobi, including my feeble attempts to be artistic. For unexplainable reasons, I have presented them in reverse chronological order.

Coming back down the mountain.

Kinda looks like an old man with a snarl.

Is that an eye in the rock?

Possibly the best picture I have ever taken.

The side of Sacred Mountain.

Gazelles, making the dash across the steppe.

Gazelles.

The hidden monastery.

Granite formations.

Maureen in the granite.

Water rushing beneath the ice in Yolin Am.

Scenic Yolin Am.

The stream rolling through Yolin Am.

Rocky outcropping in the mountains.

Pump house in front of the mountains.

Camel tracks in the sand.

Andrew's camel taking a drink.

Horses in the early morning near the sand dunes of Kongoryn Els.

The far side of the sand dunes.

Our trail.

The salt left behind after the water is gone.

So lonely, so beautiful.

Camping under the Flaming Cliffs.

A portion of the Flaming Cliffs.

Ripples in the sand.

I assume the pillars add protection?

Monastery at Erdenedalay

Solo tree at the base of the mountain.

The Gobi Concludes - Days 7 & 8

So... here it is.... the final installment of my Gobi trip story. It has only taken as long to write about it as I was on the trip itself.

Day 7 - Tsogt-Ovoo to Some Ger

This day started out with a bang. Literally. It wasn't really meant to be my day. After a rough sleep on the floor, we packed up the van... or at least started to. We had a nice gallon-sized thermos that had a glass interior to hold the hot water. It seems like the thermos had had it's time with us. As I was carrying it, and a box out to the van, the bottom fell out of the thermos, and the glass tube, full of freshly boiled water, struck the concrete step that was less than 2 inches from my right foot. The water instantly scalded my foot, melting the skin. I hastily removed my shoe, and pulled down the sock. Thankfully, Maureen had brought her first aid kit with her. We applied some first aid, bought some gauze and made a bandage (something I'm getting kind of tired of doing). In my haste to get indoors - mind you I had to hop back over the broken glass - I bumped into the door frame and broke my sunglasses. Most of the trip that day was pretty uneventful until close to the end. Even a stop in Mandalgovi for lunch provided little excitement, other than Andrew and Maureen's ability to charge their iPods. I was determined not to allow my foot to hinder my fun, so I still got plenty of pictures. Just before finding a ger to sleep in for the night, we checked out some of the craziest granite rock formations I have ever seen. I think I have a new found respect for granite. The formations looked an awful lot like puzzle pieces being stacked upon one another. After a few pictures ( I didn't do much walking because of my foot), we went to another destroyed monastery that was hidden in the cliffs. As Dava so eloquently put it, "Monks.... Communists, boom boom." There was a lovely little birch forest that had sprung up in where the monastery ruins are, which was very surprising as I hadn't seen a tree taller than me for the past week at this point. The ger was warm, with a lovely family that made us traditional Mongolian soup - which pretty much means hot water, fatty mutton and noodles. Interesting side note... it was actually the Mongolians who introduces noodles to the Europeans, not the Chinese. It was also the Mongolians who introduced noodles to the Chinese. We sat around, shared some drinks, and played some cards.

Nora and Dava cleaning up the broken glass.

The brilliant first aid work performed by Maureen.

The bizarre granite formations.

"Communists, boom boom."

Tibetan writing on the walls at the entrance to the monastery.

Day 8 - Random Ger to UB

The day started out like any other, except that I had to redress my foot. First thing in the morning, we began our day of spelunking (okay, it was 2 caves, we only went in 1, but it's a really fun word to use). Andrew and I decided to explore the cave a bit. We had to slide on our backs for the first 15 metres or so, but then the cave opened up (actually, it dropped down) so it was tall enough to stand in. Of course, we left our flashlights in the car, so we took random pictures to light the way. After our first cave we hit the road. Along the way we saw three different herds of gazelles, all progressively closer to us. At one point Dava started chasing them with the van, prompting the male to kick into his defensive technique, which consisted of drawing away the "predator" while the females could escape - and people say chivalry is dead. We ate lunch at a ger beside a sacred mountain, whose name I can no longer remember. The mountain had a natural spring, and is older than any of the nearby chains. Just before eating the old man who lived in the ger led us up a mountain to check out another cave that dropped straight down about 65 feet. He climbed the mountain so fast we thought he was crazy, but then he said I was crazy for the way I chose to go down the mountain. The granite had such great grip that I was able to do the Spiderman crawl down a couple of 8-10 walls without losing my grip at all. In some places, it was difficult to get my shoe to release the rock. Nearby, there were the remains of a structure so old that no one knows what it was. It seems that not all of the ruins were caused by the Soviets after all. The stones were taken from the Sacred Mountain, and placed in a rectangular pattern, with two structures near each other. After lunch, it was a few hours of uneventful driving back to Ulaanbaatar, which we reached around 6 pm.

looking back to the entrance of the cave from just a few feet into it.

Wheels, just small enough to fit through the small part of the cave. It was tall enough for us to almost stand upright past this point.

Chasing down the gazelles in the van. We were doing at least 40, and they were pulling away. God, they're fast.

Another herd of gazelles. It's almost like they wanted us to take their picture.

The Earth's right hand.

Sacred Mountain.

The second cave, looking straight down.

These rocks pre-date recorded history. They're odd because they show up in a place that has never been known to have permanent structures.

And thus concludes my amazing Gobi experience. I hope you enjoyed reading about it as much as I enjoyed being there.

The Gobi Continues - Days 5 & 6

Day 5 - Khongoryn Els to Bayandalay

Day 5 started early, with the intention to hit the road and arrive at our destination as early as possible. We made an early stop to see our guide from the previous day's camel ride. As I've mentioned, he turned out to be the park ranger, and we paid for our stay, and for our day in Yolin Am (we'll get to that). The man and his wife were an interesting couple who had recently returned from 2 weeks in Tibet. They shared, their snuff (ground tobacco that you at least pretend to snort from your hand), some cookies and airag. Airag is fermented mare's milk, but this wasn't ordinary airag, it was camel airag. This stuff was possibly the most vile and disgusting thing I have ever tasted. It was similar to liquidy sour yogurt that had been heated for too long. Nonetheless, I can now say I've had fermented camel's milk at 10 am. After a couple of hours on the road, Dava hit the breaks hard, and told Nora that there were a herd of gazelles to our right. He was right, and they were so close they looked like tiny specs in the distance. We were told that they rarely come into the areas that people regularly travel until the temperatures get colder, and they need to stay nearer the water sources. The rest of the day was somewhat uneventful, or at least should have been. We arrived in Bayandalay a little after 3. Nora went to buy some food, while Andrew and I searched for a store for him to buy a pair of socks. In our search we accidentally walked into someone's home and a pool hall. The locals seemed eager to have us play a game, but we thought we should get back to the group since we thought we would be back on the road shortly. Turns out, we weren't going back out on the road at all. We rented both rooms in the local motel, a nice change from sleeping the the ferocious wind. After a few drinks, some rummy, and dinner, I mentioned that I felt like exploring the town, as it was only 8:00. The others quickly agreed and we started to head out. We got as far as the back lot before we made our first stop. There were 3 kids kicking around a ball, so Andrew, Maureen and I decided to hang out for a bit a play too. The game quickly developed into a kids vs. the grownups (or locals vs. foreigners) game of keep away. Of course I began to cheat by picking up the kids as the ball came to them. They thought this was hilarious, and quickly tried pulling my tricks on me (with a little less effect). The game came to an end when one of the kids brought a week-old puppy out, and we couldn't stay away from it - the dirtiest trick of all. While the three of us played, Cat went in search of a bar, only to find out that it was close with the power off (this is a nightly occurrence in Mongolian towns, since the Russians provide the electricity). When she found that the bar was unavailable, she decided to stay at the motel, while the three of us and Nora went to the town hall to check out the goings-on. It turns out there was a show in town from UB. It started off "normal" enough with a bunch of dancing. Not dancing, like back home, but full-out waltzes and line dances. Maureen, who loves to dance, learned how to ask in Mongolian. She approached the local police officer, only to be shot down in front of the entire crowd. When enough people showed up, they collect 3000 T from everyone, and the show began. Three words: Weirdest Show EVER!!! So much so, they should make t-shirts with that slogan. First, a woman, sang a couple of songs, although the amp was turned up a little high for her voice she was pretty good. Then the show got weird. First, the contortionist took stage, followed by more singing, a dance, a belly-dancer, more dancing, an act they called "yoga", but was oddly reminiscent of a freak-show I saw at UWO, more singing and dancing, and finally a strip-tease. You heard me. Weirdest. Show. Ever. We went back to the motel, laughing hysterically and settled into the best sleep of the trip.

Possibly the most sketch-bag motel ever. It had a ceiling tile caving in, my bed had a piece of cardboard instead of wood holding up my "mattress", it had a whole 2 rooms, and 4 beds in each, with no space for anything else. The bathroom was a giant hole in the ground on the other end of the lot. I loved it.

Maureen, amongst a swarm of Mongolian children during a game of keep away.


Notice who everyone is staring at and laughing. Also, notice the embarrassed policeman behind Maureen.


The belly-dancing at the weirdest show ever.


Crazy waltzing. SO fast, my camera couldn't even capture it well.

Day 6 - Bayandalay to Tsogt-Ovoo

We started the day by driving to Yolin Am. Yolin Am is a very narrow gorge that is nestled in the middle of a mountain range, and can get up to 10 feet of ice by the end of the winter. On the way there we stopped at one of the world's oldest monasteries, or what WAS one of the world's oldest monasteries. Not surprisingly, the communists destroyed it during the 1930s. At this same site we the foundations of two of the oldest known permanent structures in human history. They date back to a few millenia pre-bronze age. I found an amazing brick carved that was from the monastery. Later, Cat asked if I took it, and I said "no, it belongs there." From the monastery, we drove down (and I mean down - a fairly steep slope) into the canyon. Not long after entering the canyon we spotted a herd of wild sheep - apparently even more rare than spotting gazelles. We continued along the toughest road I have ever experienced and stopped at a passage that was no more than 3 inches wider than the van we were driving. At this same spot, we looked up to see the Golden Vulture, which exists only in this mountain range and is the only type of vulture that does not have a black body. We then began the 2.5 km hike through the canyon, hopping back and forth across the stream an developing ice. The scenery was incredible. 1200-1500 foot mountain peaks on all side of us, and sometimes less that 8 feet between the sheer cliffs on either side. The canyon seemed to be trying to give me a good scare, as the ice caved beneath me at once (only the tip of my shoe got wet thankfully), and later, a rocked rolled over as I stepped on it, making a loud cracking noise, like a gunshot, that echoed through the canyon. After the canyon, we went to see the museum, but the caretakers couldn't find the key. It is supposed to have dinosaur bones and eggs, as well as stuffed ibex, wild sheep, and other wild animals. It seemed like it would be worth the 1000 T entry fee. We stopped at a nearby ger for lunch, and Nora got bitten by the owner's dog. We continued on the Dalanzadgad, the Airmag (provincial) capital, and Mongolia's third largest city, with a whopping population of 30 000. The biggest feature of the town (for us) was the paved roads. Nora stopped by the hospital to make sure she didn't get rabies from the deranged canine. We continued on, drive past sunset. As we approached Tsogt-Ovoo, we chanced upon a local doctor, riding a motorbike that would break down every 1/2 mile or so, and also had no headlight, so Dava drove behind to light the way. We found a one-room little house to sleep in, which was owned by the lady who ran the hotel, and rented it to people who thought the hotel was too expensive. Her son hung out with us, very excited to show off his toys, school work and awards - he was the local waltz and latin dancing champion, and had several academic awards. We gave him some batteries in case he had toys that could use them.

This is what remains of the monastery. It was made from stone bricks and sand. I don't know how anything survived the communists.

This brick would have been carved close to 4000 years ago. I wanted to keep it, but I just couldn't do it. Maybe it's because the Buddhist believe so firmly in Karma.

Yes, that van fit through that passage. I don't know how.

A Golden Vulture flying overhead.

Two (of about 15) wild sheep standing at the precipice, just long enough to get a picture.

A small piece of Yolin Am. You could turn just a touch, and another exquisite picture would be there.

One of many beautiful waterfalls in the canyon. Maureen and Andrew in the background.

Sunset over the Middle Gobi.