Mongolia: It's All About Survival - Dalanzadgad, Mongolia
Dalanzadgad, Mongolia
Where I stayed
Khan Uul Hotel, Dalanzadgad
THE LOVELY KEMPINSKY HOTEL, ULAANBAATAR
We were pleased to see our smiling guide Bold and driver Ulamaa arrive at our Kempinsky Hotel to pick us up for our day tour to the Terelj National Park. We were even more delighted to see they had brought with them our precious lost baggage. It was a great relief. Lost baggage is apparently very common on flights coming from Beijing to Ulaanbaatar (or UB as it is affectionately known) and from stories from other distraught tourists at the Chinggis Khaan Airport the previous day, it can often be several days before it can be retrieved. It was just the beginning of "If Something Was Going to Go Wrong, it Sure Did on This Trip"..... Thankfully, nothing very serious went wrong, just a lot of everything.
I have not said anything so far about our hotel. The Kempinsky Hotel Khan Palace, the only five star establishment in Ulaanbaatar, was fabulous. Our room was large, modern and beautifully furnished and the staff was exceptionally friendly and helpful, especially at the front reception area where they all spoke excellent English. Nothing was too much trouble and the impression was one of a very tightly run establishment, with the manager quietly checking on the guests' every needs. Even at breakfast, he made a special point of greeting us personally and ensuring that we were satisfied with the food and the service - which we most certainly were. We were just a bit sorry that we spent such a short time in the Kempinsky. It certainly spoilt us for some of the hotels we were to encounter in the remoter areas of Mongolia!
Our day around the surrounds of Ulaanbaatar comprised a visit to the Chinggis Khaan Complex and Museum at Tsongin Boldog, and the Cave of One Hundred Monks en route to the Terelj National Park. We would then return to Ulaanbataar for an evening flight south to Dalanzadgad, in the Gobi Desert region. I can't say we were all that enamoured about seeing a gigantic statue of Chinggis Khaan astride his horse, or for that matter yet another museum. We had images of the bad taste tourist attractions in our own country, such as The Big Banana, The Big Pineapple or The Big Merino (sheep) but we consoled ourselves that at least it would give us a chance to see our first glimpse of the mysterious Mongolian countryside.
TOWARD TSONGIN BOLDOG
The outskirts of Ulaanbaatar were much like any other soviet influenced city; depressing dusty streets, endless car mechanics' yards, timber yards and brutal soviet style, stained cement block apartments trimmed with corroding metal balconies. We often wondered why the Russians built such grim, grey monstrosities. After all, they have created some of the most beautiful palaces in the world - and even today, their public city buildings are painted in bright and attractive colours.
Interestingly, we noticed many expensive cars such as Lexus and Land Rovers, as well as the more upmarket Japanese and Korean vehicles. Bold explained that this was a relatively new phenomenon and that only some 20 years ago the only cars in Mongolia were aged Russian Ladas. It was not hard to see that the economy, even though it had suffered a significant set back with its mining and China's financial down turn, was doing pretty well. And considering where Mongolia had come from, it was heartening to see that the country was beginning to prosper.
Mostly barren and flat, the landscape around the Nalaikh district on our journey east to Tsongin Boldog, was littered with occasional small isolated villages. We were surprised that the mostly single storey, peaked roof houses were painted in the brightest colours, with vivid greens, deep mauves and pinks being obvious favourites. Was it because the landscape was so bleak people needed some colour around them? Or was it a hang over from the Russian era?
And quite paradoxically, the houses were nearly all surrounded by the same paling fences we had observed when we had flown into Ulaanbaatar the previous day. In a country which prides itself on its "fenceless vast lands", it seemed quite curious that the village dwellings had such significant and substantial boundaries.
Similarly, there were virtually no trees and certainly no ornamental plants around the houses or even in the villages. Clearly, the climate would be a factor but it was still a bit surprising - after all there were trees on the hills surrounding us.
Apart from the scenery, our journey to Tsongin Boldog provided us with a good opportunity to chat with Bold about the way of life in his beloved Mongolia. Our questions went on and on. "How do people survive the bitter winters? Do businesses close down? What happens with transport during the heavy snow season? Why don't the villages have any gardens or trees?
Bold was a great talker with a wonderful sense of humour - but his information was always factual and interesting. Suddenly serious, he said "We (Mongolians) don't have time for niceties. There are too few years for people to live without worrying about trivial matters such as fancy cooking, gardens - or even pets" he said seriously. It was true, throughout all our travels in Mongolia, the food was plain, we saw no gardens, very few dogs and just one cat. Clearly, life in Mongolia was all about survival.
MONGOLIA AT A GLANCE
It is hard to get your head around the vast size of Mongolia, a country larger than the whole of western Europe and the second largest land locked country in the world. A sovereign state, it is bordered by Russia to the north and China to the south, making it a precarious buffer zone between two of the world's great powers - no wonder China and Russia take such an interest in poor Mongolia.... At first glance, Mongolia appears to be bordered also by Kazakhstan but looking closer you will see there is no actual border and to travel to Kazakhstan you need to travel either through China or Russia. Kazakhstan is however, merely 36.76 kilometers from the Mongolian border.
The Mongolian landscape is dominated by fragile steppe country and semi-desert, with very little arable land. The dominant agricultural industry is animal herding across the extensive grasslands. Even today the main diet of the Mongolians comprises mainly meat and dairy products, with vegetables being regarded widely as merely stock food. Health issues and resulting low life expectancies are changing attitudes and the importance of a more balanced diet, and the horticultural and crop growing industries are predicted to grow significantly in the future. Similarly, the government has now adopted serious environmental policies with extensive national parks and 76 declared wild life protected areas now accounting for 17.4% of the country. In an endeavour to contain the growing deserts, especially in the southern Gobi region, large scale tree planting programs are also being undertaken.
Mining is of vital importance to the current economy of Mongolia and despite its worldwide downturn, commentators are optimistic about its contribution to the future growth of the country. In 2009, an investment agreement was reached with British-Australian company Rio Tinto and Canadian owned Ivanhoe Mines, in conjunction with Mongolia having 34% share, to develop the Oyu Tolgoi copper and gold deposit in the Gobi Desert, the biggest foreign investment in Mongolia and what is anticipated to account for one third of Mongolia's GDP by the year 2020.
Mongolia, with a population of just 3 million, it is the most sparsely populated country in the world (interestingly, it has a population of around 44 million livestock). The country also has an extremely young population with 70% being less than thirty years of age, and a median age of just 27.6 years. Even today, around 30% of the population is nomadic or semi-nomadic with horses still an integral part of Mongolian culture, although they are rapidly being replaced by motorised bikes. We found it rather mind boggling to hear that there is 98% literacy in Mongolia, with three in five young people now enrolling in university. English language is now now taught in all schools across Mongolia, starting at fourth grade - an impressive achievement.
Mongolian climate is harsh with hot summers and bitterly cold winters, where temperatures can drop to as low as minus 40 degrees C. For such a extreme temperatures it is interesting to note that the northern most part of the country is roughly on the same latitude as the more moderate climatic zones surrounding Berlin or Amsterdam. It is however the vast front of cold, heavy air coming in from Siberia in winter that causes the extreme temperatures of Mongolia. Ulaanbaatar is actually the world's coldest capital city.
As we travelled through Mongolia, it became more and more apparent to us just how defining the extreme environment was to the nature and lifestyle of the Mongolian people. We also began to understand their generosity and hospitality toward each other, and to guests. Living in Mongolia was all about survival....
THE CHINGGIS KHAAN EQUESTRIAN STATUE - A SENSE OF PLACE
Mongolian authorities must have read Lonely Planet's summation about the seemingly lack of commemoration monuments for Chinggis Khaan prior to the construction of this remarkably colossal statue and complex which was completed in 2008, on the 800th anniversary of the foundation of Mongolia.
"...the name Chinggis Khaan has achieved a unique spot in the world's imagination. He created the nation in 1206 and named it after his Mongolian lineage. Mongols still maintain an intimate tie to him, but beyond use of his iconic image and name, there seems to be surprisingly little show of him in the nation. Chinggis Khaan did not leave a monument to himself, a temple, pyramid, palace or castle, and even his grave was left unmarked in the remote area where he grew up and hunted as a boy. As he himself wished, his body could wither away so long as his great Mongol nation lived - it is that nation today that is his monument."
Well, not quite these days. The Chinggis Khaan Statue Complex with its 40 meter high, 250 ton, stainless steel statue of Chinggis astride his horse, and atop a ten meter base housing a large museum, would more than compensate for perhaps any earlier omissions.
The complex is located 54 kilometers east of Ulaanbaatar at Tsonjin Buldog on the Tuul River, and as legends goes, the place where at the mere age of fifteen the young Temujin (his birth name) found the famous golden whip that inspired him to go on and conquer much of the known world. The gigantean statue faces east toward his birthplace.
Despite our initial reservations about what sounded to us, for all intents and purposes like "The Big Chinggis Khaan", we had to admit that the extraordinarily massive piece of architecture overlooking the panoramic barren setting of Tsonjin Buldog, did in fact command a real sense of place. The proportions of the statue and complex were in surprising harmony with the vast, naked environment; bold, imposing and fearless - and as we imagined a true reflection of the great leader. Chinggis would have approved.
Underneath the massive statue is a museum complex supported by 36 columns, each representing the khans of direct lineage to Chinggis Khaan. The museum on the first floor displays exhibits from the Hunnu (Xiongnu) civilisations and includes every day utensils, belt buckles, knives, spear heads etc. The second floor is devoted to the Great Khan era of the 13th and 14th centuries and displays portraits and descriptions of the various khans, ancient tools, goldsmith objects and some Nestorian crosses and rosaries.
Crazy as it sounds, it is also possible to climb either by stairway or lift into the chest and head of Chinggis' horse where you can look out over the surrounding panoramic views of the surrounding vast landscape and a reconstructed Mongolian village. It is well worth the effort. The views are sensational - a real sense of place and space.
The aims for the complex are ambitious, with concepts of developing a "real time micro-kingdom" where tourists can get a feel for the way of life during the Great Khan Era. When completed the tourist centre will accommodate activities such as felt making, mare milking, ceremonial activities and games, traditional sacrificial activities (whatever that may mean?) weddings and annual festivals. We were pleased we had visited the centre at its current stage of development. It was all sounding horribly touristy.
Outside of the complex were tourist shops and stalls, ponies for hire and saddest of all, a splendid Golden Eagle tied to a post. For a fee you could have her perch on your arm and have your photo taken. It was time to go.
THE TOWNSHIP OF NAILAIKH
Lunch was at Nalaikh, a modest but fascinating coal mining town which we had passed on our way from Ulaanbaatar to the Chingghis Khaan complex.
The township was once best known for supplying Ulaanbaatar with its total coal supply. With no safety equipment, infrastructure or procedures, Nalaikh became regarded as harbouring the most dangerous coal mines in the world (even surpassing those in China). Although it was closed years ago, today small scale private excavations continue to operate, still in dangerous conditions.
On a warm, sunny afternoon Nalaikh however was in full swing when we arrived. The school summer holidays had just begun and the main soviet styled square, complete with a white trimmed, pink adminisitrative building and ubiquitous bronze hero, was incongruously full of children's entertainment, jumping castles and carousels. Excited about the start of their long school break, a group of friendly young school girls chatted to us in their best English. Occasions like these to talk with the local young people were very memorable.
CAVE OF ONE HUNDRED MONKS
On our way from Nalaikh to the Terelj National Park we pulled over to the side of the road to what looked like an insignificant rock clad steep hill. Bold explained that this site, known as the Cave of One Hundred Monks was where in 1937 a hundred Buddhist monks hid during the Stalinist enforced purges to avoid persecution.
As mentioned in my entry "Summary Timeline of Key Events in Mongolia", the Soviet established communist regime in Mongolia, led by Stalin's henchman Kholoogin Choibalsan, instituted collectivisation of livestock herds, the destruction of some 700 Buddhist monasteries and the death of more than 30,000 monks and civilians. With some 30% of the male population being Buddhist monks, the purges were devastating to the Mongolian population.
The climb up to the cave was extraordinarily steep and slippery. The entry into the cave was tiny (it has apparently subsided over the years) and although inside the area was apparently quite large, it was impossible to imagine how so many monks survived, especially in the harsh Mongolian climate conditions - and how terrifying it must have been.
TERELJ NATIONAL PARK
A thin man in a pink striped shirt signaled for us to pull over. Gaunt and weather beaten, with virtually no teeth, his years most probably belied his age - he looked in his seventies but he was probably no more than fifty. He was selling wild onions he had collected from the local hills. Would we like to buy some? Our hearts bled for this frail looking man but what could we do with a bunch of onions and a later flight to Dalanzadgad? Wild onions are common in Mongolian high areas and we were to see many more growing in the alpine meadows of Bayan Ulgii in the far north-west. Now Wild Leeks - well, that is another story....
Our journey toward Terelj National Park passed through sage coloured, barren country with occasional rocky outcrops. After we crossed the Tuul River, the country became wilder and more mountainous with sparse pine trees thickets and alpine vegetation clinging precariously to the formidable rocky slopes.
Terelj National Park is the most popular destination for Ulaanbaatar-ies and tourists, and is third largest protected area in Mongolia. The alpine park which is situated at an elevation of 1,600 m, is well known for its hiking, rock climbing, rafting, horse riding and winter skiing.
Our muddy red clay road took us to a tourist ger camp site and a number of extraordinary eroded rock formations, notably Turtle Rock and Praying Lama Rock - and a number of tourist shops, cafes and places where it was possible to hire horses or camels.
The site receives good write ups from tourists, but for us the little we were able to see that afternoon, was not particularly inspiring. We took a few photos and left for a drive to Terelj village before heading back to Ulaanbaatar.
A SHAMANISTIC "OOVOO"
Not far out of the Terelj National Park, we pulled over the side of the road to observe what looked very much to us like a Buddhist religious site; piles of rocks topped with stakes and with what appeared to be brightly coloured blue and yellow prayer flags. Looking more closely, we saw piles of various trinket offerings littered amongst the rocks.
Bold explained that the was not Buddhist, but a Shamanist sacred site or "Oovoo". Mongolian Shamanism has been practised widely throughout the history of the country, with similar beliefs being common today among the nomads of central Asia. Shamanism became strongly influenced by Tibetan Buddhism in the 13th and 14th centuries when it was established as the state religion - but true Shamanism however, remains a Mongolian religion today, representing about 3% of the population.
Oovoos are really rock altars in the shape of mounds that are traditionally used for worship. Each Oovoo is regarded as being the representation of a god. Pilgrims passing an Oovoo traditionally circle it three times in a clock wise direction while making prayers. They often make offerings by adding stones to the mound, or by hanging blue ceremonial silk scarves known as "khadaq", symbolising the mountain spirits. Some pilgrims also leave money, milk, incense sticks, or bottles of alcoholic beverages.
Pilgrims had left our Oovoo with some rather extraordinary gifts. In amongst some tiny bottles, glass jars and small ornate boxes lie a pair of crutches and a used plaster cast, complete with its plastered foot casting!
TO DALANZADGAD
Our Aero Mongolia flight from Ulaanbaatar to Dalanzadgad did not depart until 7.30 pm and so following our Terelj tour, we had quite a lot of time to spare. Doogii had recently bought an apartment in town and kindly offered it to us for the couple of hours we were to wait. It was a lovely modern unit, and a good opportunity to sit down in comfort, enjoy a cup of coffee and relax before our flight. Doogii never failed to amaze us with her thoughtfulness and attention to detail - a reflection of the very astute businesswoman that she is.
Well - Alan and Bold very nearly stayed in her Ulaanbaatar apartment that night. After we checked in, our names were called by the airport authorities to come to the luggage checking section - there was obviously some sort of problem with our baggage content. We decided that it was best for me to wait with our hand luggage back in the airport terminal while Bold and Alan went to see what the problem was.
Around an hour went by and still no Bold or Alan. I becoming really concerned as our plane was boarding in just ten minutes and it was impossible to inquire about them as no-one spoke any English. Alan suddenly appeared looked quite rattled. Apparently the very officious staff in the checking section, which was located way down in the bowels of the airport, had identified some objects in our luggage which they thought were suspicious. Somehow Alan had managed to convince them that our luggage was quite safe but Bold had no such luck - apparently, a cake of soap was continuing to cause them much concern. In the end, a woman official ushered Alan away, saying it was best that he managed to catch the plane while the officials argued with poor Bold.
We were just about to board our plane when a very red faced and furious Bold thundered into the waiting lounge "If they (the officials) can't tell the difference between a piece of soap and a bomb, then they don't deserve their jobs!" he exploded. We hurried out of the airport terminal and on to our flight....
Apart from Alan having the thoughtless large man in front of him immediately recline his seat and almost lie in Alan's lap, the one and half hours flight to Dalangadzad was pretty much uneventful. Alan ended up moving seats but the guy in front appeared totally unaware that his comatose position had caused any inconvenience. I am always amazed that on small aircraft and even short distance buses, the seats are able to be reclined. It is ALWAYS a nightmare for the poor person in behind. I will never forget Alan's encounter with an elderly man who on a flight, immediately reclined his chair then picked his ears onto Alan's lap for the duration of the flight. OMG! But that's yet another story.....
It was hard not to ignore the conversation between two people behind us who were part of an American tour group to the Gobi Desert. It was even more compelling as we could not see them so we could really let our imagination run riot. Was he really as good looking as he made out? Was she an attractive older woman who had just survived a divorce? The man was trying so hard to impress. He had travelled the world, met lovely, lovely people people from high places, gave generously to the poor and can you believe (in his own words) was "even tolerant of gay people" - so much so that he had paid for his gay friend to travel the world and experience similar riveting adventures... Initially, the woman was sounding impressed but after twenty minutes her voice drained into tired responses such as "Ahh, really...?" and "Ahh huh...".
We were amused that on departing our flight, the man was very short and bald - not at all a good sort (maybe that is being a bit too *************versely, she was quite an attractive and vivacious young woman. God, save us from tour groups, we thought.
Our Khan Uul Hotel at Dalanzadgad was very nice, modern and with all the facilities we would expect of a good hotel. We were rather surprised as we had heard that hotels in regional Mongolia can be less than just basic. The stony faced staff on the other hand, were not at all friendly; customer service was obviously not their priority. And the food? Well, that was not our priority that night either. A good night's sleep in a comfortable bed was what we needed.
As I drifted into a hazy doze, I tried not to think of my symptoms of a raging head cold.