Mongolian Interstates

Extended road trips in Mongolia are their own kind of fun.  After an early morning start and a trip to town to catch the next bus, I was hungry for those awful Mongolian roads of legend.  The road from UB had been paved all the way.  Where was the adventure?

Well, a few hours into our trip West I found what I was looking for.

Mongolia interstate

The pavement stops, and then the road goes offroad, into the steppe, and turns into a dozen braids of dirt road, twisting, combining, and recombining for hundreds of miles.  There's not much on the horizon except for the occasional herd of animals, maybe a yurt, and grass as far as you can see.  It's an incredible sight, and one that I was happy to enjoy in the company of a professional driver and a lot of Mongolians.  Driving this yourself would be intense - if you decide to do it definitely take a full kit of spares, a GPS, and a lot of extra fuel.

Heavy rain had fallen on a stretch of road ahead of us - it was pure mud - like a marsh - and we our bus was supposed to make it through, along with all the Jeeps and Land Cruisers stuck in the carnage around us.  None of the Mongolians seemed worried - which is always the right barometer, by the way, when you're away from home and not sure how dangerous something is - if the locals don't look worried, you shouldn't be either.  But once they are...

Here comes the fun!

Carnage everywhere.

Our driver did a fantastic jobs navigating the enormous potholes and mudslicks, until we hit patch of mud not even he couldn't get us out of.  

I suppose this is the part the trip is all about - getting stuck, getting out of the bus, and working together to get the bus going.  Everyone got off the bus, and the men got to work getting us moving.

Someone left to go to the ger about a mile off to get a pail of rocks, a few people started fetching wood to throw under the tires, and the pushing started.  

It took a little while for the driver to start to look nervous.  Every time he put the bus in gear it would dig deeper and deeper into the marsh.  Finally, after a few hours and extra pails of rocks, we got moving.  We were on the move again.

Stuck.

For a taste of Mongolian adventure, Start at minute 7 of the video below.  Ewan McGregor and his friend do a motorcycle trip around the world, and their experience in Mongolia totally mirrors the one I had.

Crossing the mud flats.

Luckily these guys got out and are on their way.

More casualties.

Mongolian teamwork - pretty incredible actually.  No complaints, no one freaking out, just a collective effort to get going.

Still stuck.

Finally on our way.

From the Steppe to Singapore, and back

What must it be like to study abroad in Singapore and come back to your family in a ger on the steppe?  It's the question I asked my new host-brother friend at my last homestay.

While the Communists did a lot of things wrong when they took control of Mongolia in the 20s, one helpful initiative was their focus on education.  Because of how spread out all the kids are, the government runs a bunch of boarding schools in towns across the country, free of charge.  Most kids go to one of these, and at 98%, the literacy rate is impressively high for a country's at Mongolia's stage of development.

And speaking of development, Mongolia has to be one of those places on the happiness vs. income 2x2 that is weirdly above the expected line.  Economist have noticed that as countries develop people tend to report themselves as happier, more satisfied with life, etc.  But Mongolia is well below that line, yet people I met were incredibly cheerful, and it felt different from other developing countries I was in - especially places like Peru and Bolivia.

Why is that?  Maybe it's because most Mongolians have everything they need, even if what they need wouldn't fetch very much on the market.  Sure, fermented mares milk may not only fetch a few cents a gallon on the market, but if that's all you've ever had, you don't crave a latte at Starbucks for $4.   They have a roof over their heads, with a great view out the front door.    

Maybe it's their sense of family, and the supportive culture?  There's street crime and petty theft just like anywhere in the world, but people just seemed stoic and upbeat about whatever was in their path.  Nearly every family I stayed with, except for that one episode at #3, seemed like a really tight unit.  You respect your elders, and in return they take care of you.  Your family are your best friends for life, in a true sense.  That has to count for something.

Or maybe it's because, for most Mongolians, their destiny is in their hands?  There isn't much of a ruling class in Mongolia that resembles that of much of the developing world, nor does that matter.  You've got your ger, your herd of livestock, and you can live life pretty much how you want.  None of that stuff matters.

Who knows, but it was eye-opening.  I am guessing Mongolians would rate their happiness as being quite a bit higher than most investment bankers I knew on Wall Street, and maybe more than a few PE guys too.

This all ties together, because my host-brother had just received his accounting degree from a University in Singapore and was back looking for a job in UB.  His English was great, and his qualifications put him in high demand.  He didn't see a future for himself on the steppe (It's too boring!  Hot chicks don't want to marry a nomad.), so he was moving to the only major city in Mongolia.

His family was great - they were gregarious, and fun, and kind, and I saw three generations living under one roof.  We rode horses for part of the day, he showed me how to handle the animals, and then we had an impromptu drinking competition at 10 in the morning when some of his father's friends showed up and started drinking Mongolian vodka, which is surprisingly smooth.  What a day.

Then, a rough night of sleep because of another epic electrical storm, before setting out the next day for the next stop, another few hundred miles west and deeper into Mongolia.

Not quite as happy as the Swiss, but right up there with the Spanish, French and Germans.

Getting the hang of it.

A cushion for the Westerner, huge.

Another place of prayer, with travelers tying flags to the tree as offerings.

The view over the dunes.

Engraved, special edition sitrrups.

Sunset.

The grandma, just an incredible force.  A lot has changed in Mongolia in her life, but then again, a lot hasn't (yet!).

I miss having one of these out here.

The kitchen.

The Mongolian version of the saddle - not as comfortable!

Milking the mares.

Herding cattle back for the night.

Letting the water drain from some cheese.

Family life.

Another group of tourists on the horizon.

One big happy Mongolian family.

Day 4: Religious relics and domestic disputes

In Mongolia there are happy families, there are unhappy families, and there's everything in between.

On the whole, Mongolian culture is incredibly friendly and optimistic.  But I witnessed my first questionable family encounter on day 4, after another pleasant morning with my half-dozen host sisters.

Maybe it begs the obvious question... how can you tell what's going on when you can't even understand the language?  Totally fair, but sometimes body language, a screaming spouse, and some projectiles tell the story pretty well.

This ger was part of a family "compound", where extended family pitch five to six gers for a more serious kind of party.

What was the story?  Well, I never figured it out.  All I could tell is that the sister (I think...) of my host family's mom was more than a little angry at her husband.  I'm pretty sure he didn't sleep that night in the ger... or on the couch downstairs.  I think I saw a few attempts at apology, only to be rejected by the hysterical spouse.

And what about my family?  Well, the host-mom and her daughter were awfully cold to me, and other travelers I ran into who stayed there mentioned the same.  The host-family father was great, but he wasn't there very often.  His sons were helpful and kind.  I wonder what the dynamic was?  My host-mom woman spent a lot of time in front of the mirror, trying on makeup or lotion that her relatives brought her from Korea, or China, while I sat there and read.  Her pants seemed a little too snug to be comfortable around the ranch... I wonder if it was a case of city girl caught in the countryside?  Was it his idea to do this to earn some extra money?  Did she resent the Western tourists in her ger?  Who knows, but it was certainly a different experience from the first two homestays.  

Despite the awkwardness my host-father took me on a great ride up to an old Buddhist shrine.  The setting is simply spectacular, and must have been intensely moving for generation of pilgrims.  On top of a ridge, with a view for nearly a hundred miles in every direction, some ancestors of Kublai Khan built a series of six stupas.  Their vaguely humanistic shape evoked the vision of religious, almost otherworldly sentries perched on a mountaintop, standing watch.  It was an unexpectedly moving experience.

That night it was just me and the guys watching Mongolian wrestling on an old black and white TV.  That night again, I slept in a ger with total strangers.  I was getting used to being out in back of beyond, but I wished I could understand more.  Another day in Central Mongolia.

Stupas overlooking the steppe.

The view from the ranch, with goats, sheep and sand dunes in the distance.

Coming up on sunset.

My third home of the trip.

This family is loaded - a motorcycle, SUV, and even a light truck.

Evening in the ger.

Mongolian sports are typically related to war - archery, horseback riding, and here, wrestling.

View from the back of the ger towards the entrance.

And towards the front of the ger.