Mongolian Mishaps

Mongolia is a country that has stolen my heart... the people, the landscape, and the sheer beauty of the countryside makes you stop and sigh. I have ventured far and wide, but Mongolia has no equal. Here was where I learned to breathe... here was where I learned what silence truly was.

Make it a point to spend a lot of time in the countryside. This is where the real Mongolia is.

Quick Tips:

Go the Black Market! It is a bargain-hunter's paradise.

Tip: Bring small bills. It can be a hassle to make change. Also, don't be shy. If you like it, try it on. The vendors will cover you with a sheet while you try it on. Privacy is not a word here.

If you are going out for the entire day dress in layers. This place has some wild unpredictable weather.

If you need a Russian visa DO NOT GET IT HERE. If purgatory was on Earth, you would find it in the waiting room of the Russian Embassy. This embassy is the worst Russian Embassy you will find, bar none. If you need a visa go to a place in UB that specializes in visas, do not waste your time with the Embassy.

Best Way To Get Around:

If you need to get around, just walk, UB is small place. However if you are tired, or it's late, the bus and a taxi is your best bet. In UB, if you need a ride just stand on the side of the road with your hand out, low. This isn't New York, you do not need to wave your arms or stick your arm out into the middle of traffic. Just put it at a 45º angle from your body, it will get the driver's attention. Sometimes, random drivers will pull up and see if you need a ride. This is how people make extra money, no need to worry. Just tell them where you need to go and usually they can get you there cheaper than a cab.

Located on a small street that runs along the right side of the Russian embassy (an ugly gray building with a high spiked fence).There are a few diners on this short street, but the one I am talking about is next to the salon. This place serves the best Mongolian food I had during my stay. I recommend the borscht and butz, however, I always found it was fun to pick a random item on the menu and order it—especially, when I didn't have a clue what it was.

Located about 80km northeast of Ulaanbataar, Terelj National Park is truly a geological wonder. Nowhere in the world will you find rock formations that have the same effect as looking into the clouds. There are elephants, turtles, and old men reading books...many formations are obvious, however, many more can be made up if you have a good imagination. The most popular formation is Turtle Rock.

Terelj also offers some good backpacking, horse-back riding, and camping. Throughout your hike into the countryside you may be invited into Ger camps. Getting to see this side of Mongolian life makes the entire trip worthwhile. I highly recommend backpacking into the national park. It is a good novice to intermediate hike...if you go far enough in it can be a good challenge to the advanced backpacker. However, be warned...when you are hiking be aware that you are 2500 feet above sea level, so make sure you are in good shape.

During the trip my friend and I were invited multiple times by families to come and have tea, milk, bread, and the most delicious yogurt I've ever had. Note, if you are invited into a ger make sure you stand or sit on the far left side. This is a sign of respect. The family will invite you closer to the head of the ger the more comfortable they become with you. One family we visited had a little baby and we had the chance to play with him while the mother served us. As we left we gave all the children chocolate and thanked our hosts.

There are very few hiking maps of Terelj, so do not be surprised if you cannot find a comprehensive map. My friend and I managed to haggle a photocopy of one at a map shop in Ulaanbataar, so unless you speak Russian or Mongolian you are out of luck. Just stick to the well worn paths if you do not want to get lost.

The roads to Terelj are rough and Mongolian traffic is difficult to understand, so you may want to take a guide or rent a van. There is an admission to get into the park, so bring cash. I do not recall the exact price, but compared to admission prices in the US it is not much.

Please respect the locals and the park by packing all your trash out.

If you plan on staying overnight (which I recommend), and you are not up for staying in a tent, drive into Terelj National Park and keep on driving. A couple of miles into the park you will see a very nice ger camp on your right-hand side.

My friend Barb and I stayed here our first day in Terelj in preparation for our 6-day backpacking trip into the park. The facilities were pretty basic; they have a building with sinks and toilets so you can wash up, and every evening the camp manager comes with a hot thermos of water and starts a fire in the wood burning stove. Each ger has four beds and a table to eat at. There is also a cafeteria on sight. It is pricey for Mongolian standards, but if you didn't bring food it is all there is. There are over a dozen gers on site, and each one painted and decorated in the traditional style.

I do not recall the exact price of staying in a ger, but I do remember it being a little pricey. However, out of the people I was with, two were Mongolian and one American... and since I am asian they just figured me for a very tall Mongolian and gave us the discounted rate.

This is a bargain hunter's dream, however, be aware of pick pockets—they are very good here. This market offers everything from clothes and shoes to antiques and ger making supplies. Barb and I bought the majority of our camping supplies here, but do yourself a favor and do not buy a tent. The ones they sell here are cheap Chinese tents that will leak.

For serious camping supplies go to Seven Summits across from the tourist information center. They rent high quality tents and sleeping bags at a reasonable rate. The staff are extremely helpful and speak English.

The Black Market also features a food market. You can buy almost anything from the vendors. All the meat is butchered fresh, you can see piles of pigs being rolled in on trolleys daily.

This market also features designer knock-offs galore, but control yourself... you still have to get through customs. Don't forget to haggle, but be friendly about it. Start at about 75% of the asking price... unlike China, these vendors do not ridiculously inflate the price. Even if they won't haggle remember that you are getting it cheap either way, don't be petty. Think about it this way: you are investing in Mongolia's future. The entrance fee, if I remember correctly, is 50 tugrik. A very small price to pay to experience the shopping experience of a lifetime.

I never thought this would happen. Riding a horse in the middle of nowhere with a strange man possessing an amazing singing voice... well it did.

My friend Barbara and I set out three days ago with plans of hiking to the Gunjiin Sum Monastery in Mongolia's Terelj National Park. It is a 3-day journey to get there, but we never made it that far. On our second day, Barbara had an accident with her knee and we had to turn back, this was what led up to the horses.

Thanks to a kind hearted, grey eyed, Mongolian man Barbara and I were crossing, on horseback, the raging rivers that separate the base camp and the rest of Terelj. Three days ago we waded across these knee high rivers, but now they raged and flooded from the 3 days of rain (Yes, we hiked in the rain). It was around 10pm, and I rode alone with all the gear while my friend shared a horse with the grey-eyed Mongolian. Her knee was so bad she could not get it in the stirrups.

Approaching the first river I could see it was swollen, overreaching it's banks. As we crossed I pulled my feet in towards my chest and held on. My horse was reluctant, but made it across safely. The second river was different, much faster than the first and I could not convince the horse to cross. I turned it around multiple times and even forced it into a gallop, only to come to a dead stop at the river's edge. Barbara and Grey-eyes were already across the river, but when our guide saw what was happening he rode his horse part way into the river and began singing to my horse. Yes, I said SINGING! Well, my reluctant horse was reluctant no longer and crossed the river with ease.

As the hours wore on it got darker and darker, and since there was no moon and we had no flash light we had to rely on the horses. We crossed five more rivers, all of them deep, but not as fast as the first two. By about midnight we were exhausted. We could see the lights of the base camp, but because it was so dark we could not find a clear path. By 1am we arrived, but one thing stood in our path, a 5-foot fence. There was a small opening for people, but none for horses, so we had to hike around it. Easier said than done.

There was no clear path around the fence, so we had to pull the horses up a rocky 60º incline and hang on to the fence for nearly a half hour. The entire time, pulling the horses and hanging onto the fence so we did not fall into the raging river below. After what seemed like forever, we made it out and pulled our horses through the hole in the fence.

By the way...if you are reading this Grey-eyes...thank you, again....

In Mongolia you can be hard pressed to find quality backpacking equipment, but you will be hard pressed no longer. Seven Summits is the best outdoor equipment retailer in the city. At this store you can buy and rent anything you will need for your journey into the countryside, and if they do not have it they will point you in the direction of someone who does.

 

The staff there is very friendly and helpful, on top of that, they almost all speak English. All of them are seasoned veterans of the Mongolian countryside and will provide you with everything you need. They carry camping stoves, compasses, sleeping bags, tents, rope, etc. Much of it, like the tents, flashlights and sleeping bags are available for rent. Their prices are market value, no discounts here. Do not expect to pay less than what you pay in the States.

 

My friend and I often stopped here to chat with the staff, swap stories and take candy from the front desk (I recommend the one in the white and red wrapper). There is no better place for the casual or serious outdoors man (or woman) to start.

 

For more information and directions:

http://7summits.activemongolia.com/

7summits@activemongolia.com

Here is a friendly tip for anyone planning to use a toilet in Asia: Do NOT flush toilet paper down the toilet. There is usually a waste bin nearby for your used toilet paper. If you do flush, paper and all, it might go down, but then again, it might not, so save yourself the headache and embarrassment. Some of the nicer hotels have a sewage system to deal with toilet paper, but I stayed in hostels and guesthouses, where flushing the toilet paper was a big no-no.

However, the majority of places will not have western toilets. They will have what I like to call "squatty potties". In Mongolia I had the pleasure of using a hole in the floor of a brick building where you could see the pile of waste collect from outside. Everyone in line could see what you were doing.

Also, beware of peeing on your leg. I did this...twice. Do what you gotta do, but make sure you spead your legs far enough apart so you don't splash. If water is available to wash it down, please use it to clean up your mess...and just like the western toilet, no TP down the drain, please.

Hint: Bring your own TP. Carry a small roll around with you when you are out and about. Many places will charge you for TP.

Mongolia is a country that has stolen my heart.... the people, the landscape, and the sheer beauty of the countryside makes you stop and sigh. I have ventured far and wide, but Mongolia has no equal. Here was where I learned to breathe... here is where I learned what silence truly is.

I left for Mongolia via China in mid-May, the best time to visit if you want to beat the tourists. I took the Trans-Mongolia train out of Beijing and met my two friends at the station in Ulaan Baatar. Barbara and I had graduated with our bachelor’s degrees (her’s in Russian and theatre and mine in history) that same year, and met through a mutual friend. A few months before she left for a language school in Irkusk, Russia, we met and decided to meet in Mongolia to do a little backpacking. Khulan, a Mongolian exchange student and best friend, was also there and would be playing hostess to us during our 3-week stay.

The first week in UB was spent getting oriented, sight-seeing and buying supplies for our backpacking trip. Barb and I planned to go to Terelj National Park and hike to the Gunjiin Sum Monastery. On foot it is 3 days in, 3 days out, weather permitting… however, in our case it was 1 day in, 3 days out, and a trip to the doctor.

Before heading into Terelj, play it smart and find a map. Barbara and I were fortunate enough to beg and plead and pay our way into a photocopy of a 1986 map, thanks to the sympathetic women at the Map Shop on Ikh Toiruu ( In UB, located in a small shopping center, next to Lamrin Sum). Be warned... if you go into the countryside of Terelj without a guide, you will be hard pressed to find a reliable map with Gunjiin Sum on it. If you are fortunate enough to find a map and venture to Gunjiin Sum, keep in mind that the rivers you see on the map may or may not be there. Depending on the season, the rivers may look like nothing but a trickle, so keep an eye out.

Day 1: Barb, Khulan, Khulan’s friend ( I cannot venture a guess at how to spell her name), and I arrive in Terelj by car and stay at a tourist ger camp. It was a little spendy, but quaint.

Day 2: We say our goodbyes to Khulan and her friend and set out on our adventure. It takes us a while to get used to the 25-pound bags on our backs, but after about 2 hours we don’t even notice they’re there. Barbara and I are forced to cross about eight rivers, the largest one was crossed with the help of some locals and their horses, before we reach the open countryside. All along the way we met various people who would practice their English or Russian with us, asking us questions about where we are going, our names, or where we are from. Many of them think we are crazy to hike without a male escort or guide, one of the women offered us her son as an escort… we gracefully declined.

About half way through the day, Barb and I decided to get our bearings and wandered into a ger camp to ask if we were going the right direction. They instead invited us into their ger, fed us the most amazing yogurt I have ever tasted and offered us salty tea, a traditional Mongolian drink. Barbara and I were grateful for the break and a glimpse into Mongolian home life. Sitting on the left side of the tent, closest to the door (out of respect, all visitors must sit to the left side of the tent nearest the door. Only if you are directed otherwise should you move closer to the head of the ger.) Barb spies a baby boy on the opposite side of the ger swaddled up to his neck and propped up of the bed. Swaddling a baby like this serves two functions: keeping warm and keeping it out of trouble. Of course, like all women do, Barb and I were oooing and aaahing and asked permission if we could hold the baby. After having our fill of yogurt, tea, and babies, Barb and I thank the woman and handed out chocolate to the gaggle of children collecting around our ankles.

Following our map, and the directions we received, we walk another few miles up the “road” and crossed the final river. It was only later we found out that we crossed the wrong river, the Boorinbayaan Gol, the river we were meant to follow north. It wasn’t until much, much, much later that we realized one of the rivers dried up, leading us to miscount the landmarks. So, heading in the wrong direction Barb and I trek on, unaware of the calamities that await us.

After a few more hours, we decide to rest and set up camp along the river we are mistaken into believing is the Boorinbayan Gol. With dinner cooking, two men, one young and one old come over and say hello. After about an hour of using sign language and drawing in the dirt, he communicated to us that we were heading in the wrong direction. He urged us to move our tent next to his family's ger and in the morning he would take us on a short cut through the hills. After much debate Barb and I finally conceded and packed up our tent and set it up next to his ger.

During this time, Barb was nursing some pretty nasty blisters, and by the next morning she was limping.

Day 3: We woke up to a light drizzle and ate breakfast with the old man's family. We set out much later than we would have liked, but we had to wait for our new guide to get ready. As we listened to him talking with his family I had a feeling he wanted us to pay him for services rendered, but rather than bring it up now, I figured I had better wait.

Well, this shortcut through the hills nearly killed me. My lungs burned because of the altitude and Barb's limp was getting worse. When we finally reached the Borinbaayan Gol and thanked the man for his help he demanded payment. Barb and I only had enough money for cab fare back to Ulaan Baatar and not much else, so we hid the cab money and showed him the remainder of our funds. Seeing our meager amount, he felt sorry for us and only took about $4. Well, tired and wet, we set up our tent to wait out the rain and rest for the remaining journey. Our rain gear proved to be unreliable, and both of us were soaked.

After a much needed nap, Barb and I talked about what to do. Hiking through the hills had pulled a muscle along her knee and made any further hiking unwise. Both of us wanted to reach the monastery, but we risked getting stuck there if Barb's condition worsened. Depressed by our joint decision to return to base camp, we packed up our tent and headed back the way we came. Despite the early morning rain and the disappointment of turning back, the rest of the day was beautiful.

Day 4: After packing up the tent, we decided it was best for me to carry all the gear. Barb's knee had worsened overnight, and if we were going to traverse the rivers she need to lighten her load. So, with about 45-pounds of gear on my back we headed out. The day was windy and bright, a perfect day for hiking. After finishing our lunch of canned meat and bread, the skies to the south of us started looking gray... oh no, not again.

We made camp early that day on a very nice spot along the river. It was excellent timing because just as we crawled into the tent and took of our boots the sky opened up and it POURED. It rained like this intermittently for 4 hours. When the rain stopped the first time, a curious young man that was about our age approached our tent to introduce himself. He told us that we need to move our tent to a protected area because of the wolves nearby. Well, I never saw a wolf. Anyway, just to make him happy we moved the tent into a three sided log enclosure... an area too small for our tent. We wrestled with our tent, but in the end ignored his advise and set it up next to the enclosure rather than inside.

As we ate dinner the man approached our tent again and told us we need to leave for the base camp tonight because the rivers were rising... the the bottom of a horse's saddle to be precise. If we left tomorrow it would be above a horse's saddle and we would be stuck in the park until the levels went down. So, at 9:30 in evening we packed up our tent and got on this young man's horses. We traveled across these VERY flooded rivers, without a light or a moon to travel by, and made it to the base camp around 1 or 2 am. Riding the horses was an amazing experience, and the danger of being swept away by a raging river added to the excitement.

That evening, after thanking the man and surprising him with a generous payment for his help, we settled into our tent—a tent that we pitched in the pavilion of the hotel. Barb and I were freezing and damp after our all night escapade, and since we couldn't sleep because of the cold we giggled and laughed until 6am... when we caught a cab back to UB.

Okay, so getting pierced in a country like Mongolia is not the smartest thing to do, but I'm still alive and my ear hasn't fallen off.

 

It all started with my friend buying a dress at the Black Market. It was a sweet, little, red number that reminded you of the Midwest, cowgirls, and tire swings. When we returned home and showed our Mongolian friend, Khulan, she squealed and said that earrings would make it look perfect. Let me note, Khulan is a fashion addict… Barbara and I are Neanderthals who can barely dress ourselves. When Barbara made it known that her ears were unpierced we put our shoes on and set out to remedy the situation.

 

In Mongolia, the majority of piercings are done in the home (Khulan's was done with a sharp pencil), however, after 2 days of searching and wandering into some pretty shady places we found a salon that would do what we wanted.

 

The salon was located in the dirty basement of a building, but from the look of the staff it looked clean and legit…so we sat down. With Khulan in tow, she translated to the beautician what Barbara wanted… I am not entirely sure why I decided to get the cartilage piercing in my ear, I think I decided to get it so Barbara wouldn't be alone.

 The walls of the salon were wallpapered with fashion posters and photos of fancy hairdos. The entire place glowed a sick green from the florescent lights. In the corner a few of the employees crowded around a portable television watching a Russian soap opera. I do not recall who was first but I do remember the chill of my ear being disinfected and then the sharp pain of the piercing gun. I looked in the hand mirror and saw a little silver star glittering back… what had I done? Barb and I paid the lady, said our thanks, and emerged onto the street.

As we walked home and stopped at the various jewelry shops along the way I began to think… did they sanitize the earrings before putting them in? Was the gun clean? Were the lady's hands clean? Will I get an infection?

 

Sitting here today I can answer one of these questions for sure: I did get an infection. However, this was because I had to take the earring in and out when I went to work. Cartilage piercings often need 3 months to heal and mine only got one. I still have the scar tissue as a happy reminder of my escapade... Whatever happened to that silver star? Hmmmm....