Mongolian farmers (and me)

Journal Entry 9

September 30th, 2002

"(Mis)adventure in Mongolia"

 

First of all, I need to say that I actually am a fairly experienced backcountry camper and that some events to be recounted here are due more to bad luck than incompetence.

An intro to "gers" is necessary so later writings are understandable: A ger is a traditional Mongolian tent. It's round, about 15ft diameter. Sides are about 4ft high, sloping to the top, which is 8ft high. Nomad families still live in them, one room only, and move them with the seasons. They hang meat and cheese from the walls and ceiling, and keep the milk on some shelves near the entrance. Usually no electricity. Anyway...back to mid-August...

I killed a few days in Ulaan Baatar (hereafter "UB") before heading out on Adventure #1. For this, I took an overnight train (12 hrs, first class, under $7) to Erdenet, alone. I found a jeep headed to Bugat, a village mentioned in passing in my guidebook. Seemed like a good spot to start...no tourist facilities, nothing. Armed with a Mongolian phrasebook, I set off to hire myself a horse and guide for a few days. I succeeded.

I found a ger with a herdsman willing to ride around with me for 3 days. We went 60 km (36 miles) the first day, which I don't recommend if you have an ass not well broken-in to this purpose. Over 3 days, went 150 km (90 miles). It was quite amazing, especially the people we met, despite the lack of any communication (nobody spoke English, including my guide). Went inside many gers, had lots of fresh dairy products, including airag, fermented mare's
milk, the popular alcoholic drink in Mongolia. From my experience so far, it is absolutely necessary that it have a lot of shit floating in it--hairs, dirt...I've even had some with mysterious blue particles in it. Tastes like dirty sour milk.

Joined some people harvesting hay. They fed us soup, which we repaid by cutting some hay with scythes for them (after I got a lesson). Treated to a plate of everything inside a sheep's mid-section, that had me recalling my high school biology to identify each organ I was munching.

Ate sheep. Ate fresh dairy products. Ate rice, ate potatoes. To my knowledge, Mongolians are relatively unaware of any food items beyond those 4, with the exception of ketchup imported from Poland. If one thought that with so few ingredients, they would at leat be creative with them, one would be sorely mistaken. There's about two dishes you can eat here, and every menu item is some variation of these.

I had a great time on that trip. Even more importantly, however, I now considered myself an Experienced horseback rider after those three days. More on that later.

Back to UB to recover--train was full, so I hitched my way back. In UB, met a few people, and we set off for a day trip, Adventure #2. Not an exciting adventure, perhaps worth relating though. We crammed in a van for an hour to Zuunmod, then walked 7km across a valley to see a monastery. It took about 2.5 hrs to get there, total. At the monastery, we were told that entry was 2500 togrog. We were appalled at this price and felt we were being ripped off--this was 2.5 times the price we thought it would be. So we hiked back across the valley, took a van back to UB, refusing to pay 2500 togrog based on principle. About 5-hr round trip. 2500 togrog is about $2.30.

Adventure #3: Since I was now an Experienced horseback rider, I decided to buy a horse and take off on a 3-4 week adventure in the wilds of Mongolia. I will briefly recount the doings of this:
----------
Preparation Day #1: Went to market in UB. Bought a (comfortable) Russian saddle, a bridle, a locking hobble, felt pads for the horse's back, 15m of rope, all for about $60. Also purchased a Russian gasoline stove, a decent knife, and some canvas duffel bags to carry all this in.
----------
Preparation Day #2: Bought topographic maps of the region I planned to travel in. The store was out of one map I needed.
----------
Preparation Day #3: Bought the missing map. Plotted a roughly 400 mile journey with options for extending it beyond that, time permitting.
----------
Preparation Day #4: Took bus to Tsetserleg, where I planned to purchase the horse. 12 hr journey.
----------
Preparation Day #5: Met someone (the girlfriend of a friend of a guy who I met in UB) who knew someone selling a horse. She set up a meeting between me and this guy at 9pm. At 10pm, he (never got his name, so I'll just call him Ed) showed up, slightly intoxicated. Said we'd meet tomorrow at 7pm to look at horse. Then I decided to test my Russian petrol stove in my hotel room, which led to Stove Incident #1. When I lit the stove, a raging fireball formed. I was quite positive that it was going to blow up, so I left the room. I then had some mental images of the hotel aflame on my account, so I returned to the room, tried to extinguish it, and ended up carrying in at arms-length, away to the sink, where I doused it with water. No further attempts to use stove that day.
----------
Preparation Day #6: Met Ed at 7pm. Walked 12km (7.2miles) to his ger, arriving at dusk. Ate and slept there. Expedition starts tomorrow!
----------
Expedition Day #1: I see the horse in front of the ger. I've seen a lot of horses in Mongolia, but this was the most beautiful one I've ever seen. Very pleased. Ed comes over as I'm admiring this horse, tells me to follow him. We go to corral to get the horse he wants to sell me. Bummer. Perhaps the best word to describe this horse is "spirited". Even though I'm an Experienced rider, I'm not yet Really Experienced, which is what I believe I needed to handle this horse, here-on-out referred to as Bastard.

When we first tried saddling him, Bastard broke the halter and ran off. Not a good sign. To make a long story short, I was not enthused. Ed said it was because Bastard had not been ridden in a month. I agreed to buy the horse on one condition: Ed would accompany me for 2 full days. I would saddle, pack, feed, and water Bastard. If all went smoothly, I would buy him.

We set off that day, travelling about 35km (21 miles). My Russian saddle was incredibly comfortable! Once he settled down, Bastard was a good horse to ride, and he let me saddle him without problems.

Made camp near dusk. Then occurred Stove Incident #2. Still conscious of Stove Incident #1, I primed and lit the stove. It kept going out, until, once again, I had a raging fireball. I deemed this Not Good, as it began to burn the prairie grass surrounding the campsite. Several buckets of water extinguished the flames. Stove Incident #2 resulted in most of the blue paint on the stove's base to peel off.

Actually got it working properly after that. Had tea and ramen noodles before going to sleep. Didn't suspect then, that in 18 hrs, my journey would be abandoned and I'd be eating lamb cooked over a burning pile of shit. I'll get to that...
----------
Expedition Day #2: Woken by Ed. Bastard was gone. He had busted his bridle and run off during the night. We walked to the nearest village. I hopped in the next jeep back to Tsetserleg. Ed stayed behind to search for Bastard. It was an unspoken agreement that I would not complete the purchase of that horse.

In Tsetserleg, I went to find myself a ride back to UB. I ran into a German guy who looked like John Goodman if you squinted your eyes just right. He was traveling with a bunch of Mongolians looking for "cooperative opportunities". I hopped in. After a while, we stopped at the side of the road--the Mongolians had spotted some wire and picked it up. Later, we pulled off into a field.

The Mongols got out a sack of raw lamb they had recently purchased, the wire was cut into 18" sections and wrapped around sticks, and the women scattered off to collect cow shit. This done, a large pile of dung was ignited and we made kebabs with the meat and wire, a nice little party in the middle of nowhere.

That night, the group stopped at a hotel in Kharkhorim. I opted to hike 2 miles up a hill to camp alone. This brings us to Stove Incident #3, which helped justify the premature end of my horse expedition. After lighting the stove this time, the pump o-ring failed (it was fine the day before), so now the tank was effectively on fire as well as the burner. I didn't really feel like dealing with the situation, so I moved my camp a safe distance from the fire, where I could safely monitor the situation. In the meantime, I also discovered that my bottle for extra gas had leaked badly, pretty much ruining the 10-day food supply I was to start my journey with. Eventually, I threw my flour, rice, raisins, and pasta onto my burning stove, effectively dousing the flame. I then gathered the remailing fuel, food, and some gas-soaked bags and made a bonfire which burned for a few hours.

So I sat alone on the Mongolian hilltop, beside my bonfire, eating a package of dry ramen noodles, hands crossed over my knees, and thought contemplative thoughts while I gazed at the sunset, before going to sleep.
----------
Post-Expedition Notes: Made it back to UB next day, after visiting a monastery and a German archaelogical excavation of the palace of Ugedai Khan (Genghis Khan's son)--where I met an archaeologist who's going to be working on a dig in Sri Lanka this winter--we may hook up if the timing's right, some Buddhist temple or something. 3 hr layover in a field when a leaf-spring in the jeep's rear-right suspension failed--driver disassembled, got it welded up, and
reassembled. Rolled into town past midnight.

Got one of my favorite souvenirs of trip: the driver kept a cassette tape in the player throughout the whole ride, a wonderful mix tape of Mongolian music. Extremely low quality and damaged by being played so much. I asked him how much he wanted and bought it off him.

This brings us to early September. After a few more days in UB, I departed for a 23-day journey that I could call: epic, painful, rewarding, or some combination of the above. I just returned from that trip this morning. I've written enough now, however, so more on that in due time, when I've fully recovered.

I leave Mongolia on Wednesday, 2 days from now. Weather is similar to Minnesota in November...20's, flurries, windy.

"So one morning before day, in the greatest heat of July, without acquainting any one with his design, with all the secrecy imaginable, he armed himself cap-a-pie, laced on his ill-contrived helmet, braced on his target, grasped his lance, mounted [his horse] Rozinante, and at the private door of his back-yard sallied out into the fields, wonderfully pleased to see with how much ease he had succeeded in the beginning of his enterprise." (-Cervantes, 'Don Quixote')

 


All rights reserved

Away Awhile is hosted by Josh Trutwin.