Cultural Connections

Musings about my experiences, art, and life in Mongolia and beyond.

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Location: Ulaanbaatar, Tuv aimag, Mongolia

Native Chicagoan currently teaching in Mongolia.

Friday, August 21, 2009

Ger Camping in Terelj National Park

Terelj national park is a lovely place to take a break from the urban insanity. It’s a bit overrun with tourist camps, but there are plenty of places to hike and take a break amongst the interesting rock formations and alpine like valleys dotted with wildflowers. We tried a few different camps, some mentioned in Lonely Planet’s Mongolian guide.

The first camp we stayed at was Melkhi Khad, located in a lovely, quiet valley near the Aryapala meditation center. Getting there via the unpaved road was a bit treacherous. It’s a family run camp and not as well maintained as the guidebook says. The twin beds appeared to be from a garage sale and I feared waking up in a collapsed bed. There were no showers and the bathroom was shared by everyone. They served traditional style Mongolian food which was ok. We were able to arrange horses to ride up to the gate of the meditation center. Our young guide reminded me of my 11 yr. old nephew.

Next, we stayed at the UB2 lodge to be near the Terelj River. The Mongolian People’s Revolutionary Party (MPRP) was having some kind of meeting there that week, but we managed to get a ger in the back. Not very traditional in décor, but a much nicer and cleaner accommodation compared to the first camp. However, they charged us about $5 less than a regular room and of course we had to walk to the hotel to use the toilet. We also had to ask to use a shower and Altay was told he couldn’t use the shower for some unknown reason. Hotel food, which was prepared by a European chef, was overpriced and not very good – shocking! In general, service was poor; staff was unorganized, uninformed and not very well trained.

Last, we stumbled upon the Khan Terelj camp – the best camp of our visit. A fairly new, family run camp with clean and cozy, well furnished gers. Settled in a large valley surrounded by interesting rocky mountains, it is located in the center of the park. It was nice to wake up to the sounds of cows mooing and horses neighing in the background. We had to pay a few extra dollars to use the showers and sometimes the hot water ran out, but that was the only downside of the camp. Staff was friendly and well organized – ok, maybe they needed to work on their English, but then, they appeared to have mostly visitors from other Asian countries like Korea and Japan. The food was very tasty with wonderful presentation. We spoke with the Mongolian chef who had been trained in Czechoslovakia. She put the fancy restaurant chefs to shame! We met the camp manager and his parents who knew Altay’s parents. They also showed us how to make cheese and yogurt.


After the five day break, we were recharged and refreshed and ready to tackle wild city life again!

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A Day in the Life of Mongolia

There is a famous traditional style painting in the Zanabazar museum called, “One Day in Mongolia”. It depicts Mongolia's daily nomadic lifestyle. But this traditional lifestyle has changed rapidly, especially with the establishment of Democracy and globalization. The traditional lifestyle is virtually obsolete here in the capital city of Ulaanbaatar, home of more than one million people.

Here is a composite sketch of my current “Day in the Life of UB”. Initially awake about 6 am due to the bright and early sunrise. About 7 am, a young man calls outside the cluster of concrete apt. buildings – “Milk for Sale!” If you’re not awake by then, you usually will be from someone’s car alarm, or someone slamming their heavy metal apt. door, or a train horn from the nearby freight yard.

Fill up the electric kettle and boil some drinking water for the day. After a cup of coffee or tea, see about getting on the internet and connecting with the outside world. English language TV programs are limited and most stations aren’t up and on the air until about 9 am. No “Good Morning America!” Dial up connection seems to be run by moody yaks that operate on their time. Today, it’s unavailable altogether because the landlady has not paid the phone bill and has gone on vacation for a couple weeks. Decide to go out to a Wi-fi café.

Hope that there is hot water available for a shower or water at all. In summer, the city likes to conserve hot water for the winter months - ?! and will often shut it often for a few weeks in August or early September. Mind you, the hot water is always scalding hot. Why they keep it so hot, as well as the heat so high and have to control the temps is mind boggling. Leftovers from the controlling Soviet era - ?

Off to a café – walk down 4 flights of uneven, Chinese constructed, concrete stairs, past piles of garbage and the smell of old mutton. While walking down the street, I keep my eyes to the pavement as most of the sidewalks are now broken concrete and uprooted Chinese produced polished ceramic tiles. While walking in the downtown area, one also has to be aware of their bag and pockets as pickpockets work together and are VERY clever. I nearly had my laptop taken out of what I thought was my well secured backpack. You also have to be keenly aware of the traffic as drivers think they are in a horse race and rarely stop for pedestrians, even if you are already crossing the street!

At the café, the electric sockets are often falling out of the walls (similar to my apt.). Ugh. After playing around with the plug, ordering a coffee, we’re back in business. The cafes are great if you can get a table. But keep an eye on your things as people often wander in off the street. The other day, a young girl who looked to be about 5 yrs. old, tugged on my sleeve. I barely noticed her. She was holding a small box of wet wipes and was trying to sell them to me for 1,000 tgs. (In the store they are half that price) But often, alcoholic parents will send their little ones into the street selling stolen goods to raise money for the next bottle of vodka. Best to give them some food. It really tugs at one’s heart. Often too, while intensely writing an email, someone will come up and ask where you are from, if you are married and have children, how much money do you make and then ask you to teach them English – for free of course.

It’s about noon, so to keep my spot and the internet connection going, I order some lunch – “sloppy dorj”, the Mongol version of sloppy joe, except they seem to have put mayonnaise and mustard on this version. Oh well…
To be continued….

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Friday, August 07, 2009

My Welcome Back to Mongolia

About a week after I arrived back in Mongolia, my boyfriend took me to his older brother's apt. to meet his daughter who won a green card in the US lottery and his step daughter who is studying for an MBA near Washington, DC. The daughter who won the green card is going with her family to live in Seattle. That's a whole other story! Unfortunately, they are under the impression the US has granted them some grand prize and that they will be getting jobs, an apt. and allowance for their 3 children. If that's the case, I want a green card!

It was 9 pm on a Friday night and we had been waiting for 3 hours for him to call and tell us when to come over. We got the call and I nearly passed out from walking up the 4 flights to their apt. in an old concrete Russian style apt. building. When I entered the door, I nearly fell into a whole dead sheep being de-fleshed in my honor by 2 guys. I quickly turned around and started gagging. Everyone laughed and Altay's sister-in-law kindly took my hand and walked me around it. So there we were, sitting in a tiny 2 room apt. while a sheep was being butchered on half of the apt. room floor - Welcome to Mongolia!

Then there was the customary presenting and drinking of fermented mare's milk, toasting each other with shots of whiskey, eating dried cheese, pickles, then slices of boiled sheep liver wrapped in a thin piece of fat (being guest of honor, his brother presented me with the first pieces of meat) then boiled blood and then dumplings filled with chopped meat and some fat. Basically my worst nightmare! Something I have more or less managed to avoid - especially the dead sheep. And hey, I suddenly realize the young step daughter from DC has conveniently disappeared….did she know something I didn’t know?

Someone recently told me I could write my own “Eat, Pray, Love” book. I said, “Yes, it would be called – Mutton, Mutton, and More Mutton!”
(NOTE: The illustration above is taken from the traditional painting, "One Day in Mongolia. The woman at the bottom of the illustration sums up my reaction from the evening.)

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