Mongolia- Episode two

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Mongolia 2

I am sitting on the train from Beijing South Station headed to Jinan. The trip will take about three hours and I am off to see Du Ying, a friend from Madison who completed her PhD in economics last October. Wow- so much has happened over the past year, not to mention the last hour!

I love to travel. I love meeting new people and discovering new places, but it’s hard to articulate and synthesize it all into a neat package such as a blog. This reminds me of when I studied art in college. I discovered that I have a proclivity to use all of the colors versus being selective. Whether it’s art or writing, I get so excited and want to convey a sense of wonder and amazement about what I am seeing that the picture ends up a bit muddy. So, I will do my best to be clear in my writing and extract only the gems.

When I travel, I consider it no small thing when the taxi driver takes me to the right destination, the vendor gives me a fair price, and the train ticket guides me to the right platform- car and even seat. It’s funny but I really have no choice but to rely on other people. And each time I keep taking the next step out of my hotel room, into the cab, onto the platform, along the journey, and into the embrace of another friend I think, “This is amazing!” People really are kind.

Speaking of wonder, this episode is devoted to the Mongolian countryside. I had two visits to the countryside, while in Mongolia. The first was a day trip to the east of the city. We went east of the city to a ger camp. A ger is the Mongolian term for a yurt- a round structure made of felt and a wooden frame. A ger camp is a place where you can rent one of these houses and take your meals in a central ger. It’s like renting a cabin. This type of housing has long been home for the nomadic people of Mongolia.

My love of Mongolia began with a documentary that Jin recommended, Wild Horses of Mongolia.(imagine the title in italics) Julia Roberts narrates and spends ten days in the Gobi Desert. She lives with a family in a ger and riding horses in the traditional Mongol style in a wooden saddle. Apparently, Mongolians move their homes up to ten times in a year. And I thought I was nomadic! I highly recommend this film. It gives one a sense of the vastness of the countryside/desert and the warmth of the people.

As we left UB en route to the ger camp, I noticed that there were no fences for the horses, cows, goats, and sheep. In the United States it’s rare to see livestock without fences surrounding them. I guess animals are different in different places. When my sister boarded her horse, Dalton, at a stable next to our house, he would have escaped if he didn’t have a fence around the pasture. My Mongolian friends chuckled at such an observation, but I have long pondered this idea of fences and walls. I would like to write/illustrate a children’s book about the history and significance of walls past and present. To me they are a metaphor. I find myself asking- why are we, as people, so hasty to divide, enclose, or lay claim to a plot of land? What would life be like if there were more sharing? More cooperating? (Community is a big theme for me on this trip. I like the communal sense that happens at the dinner table in Asia. I like feeling like even strangers or new acquaintances can be old friends.)

I developed a theory that the reality of free-grazing flocks and herds in the Mongolian countryside is that it’s so cold and so wild that it’s safer to stick close to the herd. Livestock don’t wander off when they are content. What’s that proverb about the grass greener on the other side? Maybe we wouldn’t roam so far if we realized how many opportunities we have right in front of us. With that said, Mongolia had a really harsh winter last year and lost hundreds of thousands of animals because there wasn’t enough space in barns and there wasn’t enough hay to feed the animals. This winter promises to be better because there was a longer growing season this summer to grow hay.

On the day trip, we arrived at the ger camp for lunch and enjoyed a yummy lunch of noodle dumplings- fried with carrots and onion. The other dish was like comfort food. It reminded me of my grandma Aletha’s pasties. Pasties are a meat pie in a half moon shape- filled with beef, onions, and carrots. I understand that pasties originated in Cornwall, England, where my family has its roots. The Cornish miners would take pasties wrapped in newspaper for lunch as they mined the cliffs for slate.

With stories like this, my list of future destinations lengthens. When I travel, I keep finding these simple truths and a feeling of home beyond my zip code. At the same time, I realize that I know so little and I feel as though I have just begun to learn about the world. New windows and doors of ideas to research and explore are continuously opened. With my expanding list of places to visit, I am also keeping a running list of recommended books, movies, and music. People are passionate about these things- please feel free to add your favorites.
For our noon-time meal at the ger camp, we drank the traditional butter+milk tea. Savory tea took some getting used to. I wouldn’t say that I have a hankering for it often. While visiting the countryside, I also had a taste of the fermented mare’s milk- ooo eee in the Black Market. That’s some strong stuff.

After lunch, a smaller bunch of us headed off to see some more of the countryside. We visited a place called turtle rock, aptly named for the massive turtle shaped rock on the hillside. When we got out of the car we were promptly swarmed by 4-5 horse guides who were each vying for our business. We finally went with one who kindly guided me through the hills for a ride. Sad to say no galloping was involved, but it was surreal.

Afterwards, we journeyed further back into the hills to a distinguished Buddhist temple set in the hillside- pretty awesome views and some subtle signs of autumn. We circumambulate the temple, spun the prayer wheels and spent a few minutes for quiet reflection. I was struck by this circle motif that permeates Mongolian culture, from the round shape of gers, the symbol of the sun-moon- ying yang on the national flag, the cycle of seasons, and the image of the family circle.

It was a Buddhist temple. Tibetan Buddhism is common in Mongolian- as is Shamanistic practices of worshipping the land and natural environment- more to come later on the impact or practice of Buddhism. More thoughts on that later…

All in all, it was a great introduction to the countryside. Unusual and funny things happen all of the time when traveling here are just two from our car ride home. First, in classic Mongolian road chaos style, the traffic was getting heavy on the way back to the city. Things came to a stand-still and we discovered that a bridge was closed for repairs, which usually meant a pile of dirt was piled up with a sign stuck in it to indicate find another way around. Without a second thought our whole lane of cars filed off of the road- through what appeared to be a dried up stream bed and then back on to the road! Normal? Yes! Four wheel drive required- no? Mongolia- so unpredictable- we love you.

The second was another Sodo moment. She launched into this joke about a tour guide who commands the attention of the crowd in his best English, “Ladies and ghentlemen (gentlemen with a soft “g” sound)….blah blah blah” he droned on. Then a friend who was more fluent in English came around the corner- correcting the tour guide, “GHENTLEMEN? It’s gentlemen!” Self-conscious from his mispronunciation, he puts his hands up to his cheeks and exclaims, “Oh my Jaad!” (translation- Oh my God!) Sometimes it’s hard to get it right.

Now, I get a good laugh when I hear the appeal over the loudspeaker, “Ladies and gentlemen” I think of Sodo. Don’t you mean, “Ladies and ghentlemen.” (see video for short clip)
As long as we are on the theme of translation, I was really struck by the simple way in which Sodo and I managed to communicate our basic needs and even deeper thoughts through simple words and animated gestures. Sure, language classes, grammar structure, and parts of speech are important to effectively communicate- but when we spoke honestly and openly, regardless of how crudely- we got it. I like being in a foreign place where I am forced to listen more and I choose words carefully.

My second visit to the countryside was epic, as far as I am concerned, though it was only three days and two nights. Jin’s dad, Bayanjargal or Bayan and her cousin Gunbilegt or Gunbe were my driver and guide for our trip. (What great names! Note: men in Mongolia are known by their first name. Children take the dad’s first name as their last name. Moms are a bit of a loose cannon, as they are known by their maiden names. It sounds confusing but it’s kind of great and logical.)

So, the trip was delayed a couple of days, but I was just glad to be going. I’d recommend making plans with a guide company prior to arrival. In general, I learned that Mongolian time is not rigid like in the U.S. which took some getting used to for someone like me who is unremittingly punctual. I am learning that just because plans don’t happen in the time agreed upon, that doesn’t mean they won’t happen or that they won’t be great!

Bayan and Gunbe picked me up at Sodo’s in this beautiful white Toyota 4Runner, our trusty stead for the trip. It all felt a bit like a fairytale- as I felt like a bit of a princess and was promptly nicknamed “boss.” In exchange for the driving and guiding I had agreed to pay for our fuel, food, and lodging for the three of us for three days. I might note that the cost of living in Mongolia is comparable to the U.S. so it was a substantial cost worth every Tugrig, local currency.

We journeyed west about 350 kilometers along many bumpy roads. Our timing was great as the Peking to Paris auto race was happening along the way. The drivers race antique cars from Beijing, formerly known as Peking, to Paris. What a long drive with grand views!

As we drove through the countryside, there were stretches where the road was closed and we had to wind our way along a parallel path. I think the words slow and cautious must not translate for Mongolian drivers.

On our way to the ger camp, we stopped to have lunch, then take a camel ride, and finish the day with a hike in the dessert. I enjoyed getting to know Bayan and Gunbe. Bayan got to know Jin's mom because he was a driver for another governement official. He's a good hearty man. And Gunbe is an intelligent guy- especially interested in philosophy. He learned English by watching the TV show “Friends” (which cracked me up!) and is finishing his studies at the University in UB.

Mongolia’s a unique place in that everyone is related much like a minority religion or a small town. I can say that as I am a member of a minority religion and I grew up in a small town. Here’s an example, when we stopped at the lunch place for some more fried dumplings-beef-veggie dish, we bumped into a future in-law of Bayan’s. Our ger camp was owned by this man as well. Bayan had a good time talking with him. This also happened to Jin, back in UB. She would unfailingly run into an old classmate, family member, or friend when we were out and about. There’s something endearing about this and just plain amazing that for a world that feels so big- to realize it’s not.

My first night in a ger was awesome! It was like camping with a more permanent structure and it was so cozy lying in bed watching the shadows from my small wood burning stove dance on the criss-cross frame of the ger wall. Could there be anything more magical? There I was in a totally remote place- under the stars- so wild and yet so secure.

Even though we were far from the city we still got cellphone reception. I was definitely in shock. Another ironic image of clashing modern and traditional ways was seeing the traditionally dressed herdsmen herding their flocks on a motorcycle. In fact, they say that the countrymen love their motorcycles so much that they even ride them to the outhouse, I wouldn’t blame them in the winter time.

It’s hard to place the Mongolian countryside in a familiar context, the closest I could come was imagining that I was traveling through the southwestern parts of the U.S. or maybe Montana. Wild and free- think cowboys.

To encourage this free- spirit, Gunbe told me that Mongolian people traditionally take time in the summer months to refresh and recharge by heading to the countryside. It clicked, I am like the Mongolians. Maybe that’s why I love my summer visits to Maine. Coming back to the mid-west, I feel ready to handle everyday life- I’ve seen things in a new way and had time to just think. Not to mention, it’s just plain beautiful!

The second day in the countryside, we headed to the ancient capital of Mongolia, Kharhorin established by Ghengis Khan. Khan is immortalized in Mongolia. It’s common to see roads and businesses named after him. It’s a brilliant marketing tool- bold and sure to conquer any competitor. Jin told me that during the Communist era Ghengis Khan was demoted as a national hero. I don’t know for sure, but I could only surmise that the government didn’t want to reignite such bellicose behavior.

Kharhorin is currently home to an active monastery. We got to see a group of monks or as the Mongolians refer to them, lamas reciting prayers. There was a vibe of spirituality that’s hard to describe- foreign but sacred. I felt moved watching the lamas- like they’re reaching for the same sort of “enlightenment” or higher self that I am working towards. I guess I like to think of this purest me as a present state, that just needs to stay alert- polished like silver.

Gunbe had some profound thoughts about the relationship of animism or traditional Mongolian religion and Tibetan Buddhism. He felt that the economic demise of many Asian countries was due to the teachings of Buddhism that discouraged avarice- to seek detachment and find more pacifistic solutions to problems.

We had our own meditative experience, earlier in the day when we stopped by a hillside shrine. My travel companions and I grabbed three rocks from the roadside and then circumambulated the shrine. We tossed a rock on the pile for each of the three times we circled the shrine. Each time around we said a prayer.

As an artist, I liked the images of the flags in primary colors- it seems to me that somewhere in all of us is a desire to make sense of the world from a spiritual perspective- this is native and primary for all of us. Maybe we express it in different ways. Secondly, I liked tthe idea that each rock was a symbol for our prayers. With each rock the pile grew taller- I found this encouraging to consider that even when it feels like our prayers are humble and insubstantial- really there is a growing weight or momentum to each purer thought- more unselfish desire.

That night was another cozy stay in my ger and a nine a.m. departure and trek back to the city. I was touched when Bayan called me his “American daughter” and told me that the camp had given me the local rate for all three of us. What a tender gesture. And to top it off the guys let me drive the 4Runner the three kilometers of bumpy/sandy road back to the main road- what fun!

Once back in UB, I was pleased to feel like my circle of Mongolian friends was broadening. Soon, I would be like Jin and be bumping into old friends on the street.

Though I had originally intended to catch a thirty-six hour train from UB to Beijing, I ended up staying a few extra days in Mongolia and flew to Beijing. At first I was a little disappointed not to take the Trans-Siberian Train, but in the end I think this worked out for the best. A longer stay allowed me to have a few more days with Jin and Sodo before departing. It included Mongolian hot pot dinner, a cultural performance (folk dancing, contortionists, traditional music, and throat singers), volunteering at an international women’s expo with Jin’s mom, and seeing some Mongolian wrestling.

There’s so much to say and so many fun details to convey, but I will leave you with this and look forward to sharing more about Beijing and Vietnam at a later point.
Bayer-la (Thank you)

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Photos

Smile!
Jin's niece enjoyed taking pictures with my camera.

Cool shower!
Hot water was a commodity- we rarely had it. This shower had a radio and an interior light- reminds me of the phone booth in Bill and Ted's Excellent Adventure. Didn't G Khan make an appearance in that movie?

Felted slippers
Slippers are a must when staying in Asia. I am excited to do some more felting. The Mongolians have inspired me with new techniques.

Pit stop
There aren't any toilets in the countryside. I would advise to always travel with TP.