My Mongolian wanderings led out of the city to Lake Hovsgol. A morning flight took our group 500 miles west and then a very rough and bumpy ride north across the steppe to one of the world's 17 ancient lakes (over 2 million years old).
This would be a good time to describe "getting around" Mongolia.
First of all, Mongolia's pretty big: kinda like Kansas, Nebraska, Colorado, Utah, Wyoming and Iowa together. A local airline flies from the capital to 7 regional centers, maybe only four times per week. But there are no flights between these regional cities. So I keep having to return to the capital, stay a night in a hotel and then fly back out somewhere else the next day.
Of course, in the city, walking is easiest. Pedestrians here have a surprisingly aggressive New York City-like attitude: step out, don't make eye contact with the driver, and assume you have the right of way. I've got that part down!
Cars are virtually all white or gray. Absolutely not a red one to be found. And clearly, Toyota must have 90% market share. The weird thing is half the cars are left hand drive and half are right hand drive. When I asked the tour guide, she seemed unfazed. Sort of like "what difference does it make?" How does this happen? Since Mongolians don't seem to care, does Japan just ship whatever they have leftover? What this means to me is that when I ride up front, I am always getting in on the wrong side. No matter which side I pick, it's always the one with the steering wheel!
Out in the country, small trucks are not uncommon. Particularly for traders, like this wide load carrying sheep wool. These traders travel throughout the countryside to nomadic families and barter for sheep wool or goat cashmere. Typically they trade sugar, flour or rice for the wool. Finally, the most common way nomadic people get around are by horse and yak carts.
Back at the lake, we checked into a beautiful ger tourist camp (as they're called) at the water's edge. An upgrade to a new building with 10 rooms WITH BATHROOMS meant no midnight trek from ger to bathroom. The only trick was to schedule my day around my room's allocated shower time ...a function of limited and unpredictable power supply.
The next morning we headed north for a very special opportunity to visit a reindeer herder family who was attending a local festival. A small, disappearing ethnic group, the Dukha number only about two to three hundred. This family of four (mom, dad, 4 year old son and father-in-law) has 39 reindeer and had spent "about a week" herding them 300 km from their home near the Russian border. Their belongings were brought in a yak cart.
1 of 3
2 of 3
3 of 3
They were staying in a tepee made of birch logs...no more than 10 feet in diameter. Covered on the outside with cloth and hides, more deerskin cloths were scattered around the ground inside with a stove piped through the top of the tepee. Moving as often as 20 times per year, depending on weather and grazing conditions, reindeer herders use tepees as their home because they are easy and quick to assemble. When the family moves, the tepee frame is left behind and a new one is built in the new location. The reindeer are domesticated and provide milk and cheese, the herders' primary diet. The group speaks a unique language and practices shamanism.
I was struck by the necklace worn by the father-in-law. He proudly said it was given to him by another reindeer herder from Inner Mongolia (China). In fact, the two groups - while a thousand miles apart - speak the same language and were once, hundreds of years ago, part of the same ethnic group.
The next day, we were fortunate to visit a nomadic family who had just recently arrived at their summer encampment. Nomads do not own their land. It is available to anyone. There is a type of system - largely relying on mutual respect and honor - for marking the land of one's ger, but grazing land is truly wide open. This was no touristy line-up and meet the nomads kind of thing. In fact, several drivers went to the wrong ger. (They do look alike, are quite far off the road, and there are no streets or mileage markers to note a location ).
The family was very welcoming and gracious as is the nomadic reputation, clearly enjoying the company. Visiting with people is a special occasion and thus our hostess quickly offered us hot tea ...black tea, milk (goat? cow?) and salt. This is their normal drink, as they don't drink water (which is carried in a large container from a small spring for cooking). For nibbles, we were treated to dried curds, dried cheese and yak butter. This is also their standard breakfast fare. They own about 400 head of livestock (sheep, goats, horses), making them above average.
The family has two daughters, about average for nomadic families today vs. seven or more during the socialist era. The 14 year old we chatted with (very proud of her medal for basketball and running a marathon!) goes to school about 30 km from their winter encampment. The schedule is that children attend school for two months and then get two weeks off to return to families.
In both the reindeer herder's home and in the ger, it was obvious that taking pictures inside was not appropriate. They saw us as visitors, not gawkers. So, no inside pictures.
The ger was neat as a pin and very organized. Roughly 20 feet in diameter, there were two twin beds, a stove built on a metal box with space to set a large hot kettle, two low chests and a dry sink. The latticework framing was hung with everything from a small light, sunglasses, clothing and drying animal meat of some kind. There was a small (13 inch?) tv with a satellite dish outside that brings 60 channels (solar powered). The floor had padded cushions and blankets.
The exterior of a ger is covered with a type of canvas which overlays a layer of felt (three layers in winter to keep the heat in and cold and noise out). The round design of the gers deflects wind making them sturdy in the storms that blow, unimpeded, across the Asian steppe.
Meeting these two proud and content families was an experience that reminds us how, despite enormous differences, people can share, laugh together, and welcome a stranger.
Tomorrow takes us to the Gobi Desert and the Naadam Festival of "three manly sports.”
