Ok. I’ve put this off long enough. It’s time to share some thoughts about my days in Mongolia before the memories fade and those days dissolve into the tapestry of stories and experience that lies half in the world we are all living in and half in my imagination (a world I rarely leave).
Gift for Buddah
I had no expectations for this leg of the journey except for distance. I wanted to feel far, far away. I wanted to be so far away, in fact, that from that distance I could see my own trajectory into the future…I wanted to see where my path is leading, my personal horizon and glean a clue about what’s next for Beana. Mongolia can definitely deliver on ‘the middle of nowhere’ vibe that I am describing. Tucked between Russia, China and Kazakhstan I was as remote as I have ever been. It was perfect. In a land with endless horizon I got a glimpse of my own.
Arriving by train gave me some time to prepare but, if I’m honest, it would be hard for anybody to be prepared for Ulaanbaatar. A huge pothole trimmed with ger camp suburbs and a less-than-graceful attempt at civil engineering, you can almost feel the city growing as you stand in it. The traffic is perpetually at ‘Midtown Manhattan rush hour’ levels with less grid and more chaos. I had 3 nights in UB all together and, though I saw many parts of the city, I didn’t have time to do the solo wandering that always connects me to my destination. The Soviet influence is clear and that stark, boxy aesthetic creates an odd texture when paired with the organic looking gers scattered throughout the city.
Ulaanbaatar, Mongolia
None of the ’sights’ in UB feel even remotely touristy. Everything is so chill and relaxed that you can stumble into an amazing Temple Museum and not even realize it. In China every facade was restored to a Disney-like-perfection where it was sometimes hard to imagine the monument or place being lived in. In Mongolia it was far different. Lived in is how the whole country felt…you can feel the life happening there, the pulse. An absolute favorite day for me in UB was visiting the Ghandan Khiid Monastery. This place is a living, breathing Buddhist temple where tourists are allowed entry to every single building there. Monks out number visitors significantly so this is not a bad arrangement. It was absolutely transcendental…one of the most beautiful and amazing things I have ever seen. Drums and chanting and bells and prayer wheels with the smell of milktea hanging in the air, it was like time traveling. Photos weren’t welcome here but I was allowed to make a couple…
Young Monks - Ghaandin Khiid Monastery
Aside from some sightseeing in UB, my only agenda was to score some boots that would let me ride like the wind when it came time for some horse trekking. I got an A+ on this assignment and wait for Fall now so I can wear them every day. A domestic flight carried me from Ulaanbaatar south to a ‘city’ called Dalanzgdad, or DZ. I remember thinking that the runway at Ghengis Khaan Airport is the only stretch of pavement anywhere in UB without potholes. Flying over the Gobi was as surreal as training through it but stepping outside the airport and seeing a battalion of 4 wheel drive vehicles brought me back to reality right quick. Tuya and Nassa were my guides there, a young married couple, and it was clear I was in the right hands when the first words out of Tuya’s mouth after ‘welcome’ were, “welcome to south gobi, one of the most beautiful places in the world. i love my country.’ After a short stop for gas we drove out into the steppe. The sensation of leaving pavement and driving through wide open spaces is hard to describe. Total freedom. Unplugged.
Road Less Traveled - South Gobi
Thinking about 21st century nomads is something different than spending time with them. Where there is water, there is life so the movement and routine of the herds people is far from random. There is logic to the movement and safety in the routine and after water, shelter, community and food are the only other necessities. And vodka, I suppose. I can tell you that all the static electricity that is our Western social construct fades away when you see how life on Earth – one of the harshest places on Earth – is lived day to day. Its humbling to see their strength and generosity and humor and it reinforces a notion that I think often – less is more. Ankle bone horse racing, singing to one another, watching baby animals clumsily get acquainted with the world and taking joy in tending the herd and making the dairy is a rich and beautiful existence. Many younger generations are tempted to leave these old ways and make a modern life in the city which is very sad to see…an entire culture going extinct. What gives me hope is that even those trying for a new life in UB bring their children to their parents and aunts and uncles in the ‘countryside’ so most children there learn the ways of their families and honor their roots, if only for summers.
21st Centruy Nomads
Help for the Summer
I could write a book about how South Gobi impacted me but I am going to try to focus here. There were 3 major sites that I visited: Khongoryn Els or ‘the singing dunes,’ Yolyn Alm or ‘Eagle Gorge,’ and Banyzang or ‘the Flaming Cliffs.’ The dunes spoke to me on a personal level and therefore that is the story I will share now but I believe that it was seeing all three of them, the diversity of the Gobi, that made the experience so fantastic. A little like in Las Vegas, the scale of everything in Gobi is a bit disorienting. Things appear to be nearby that are actually 50km away so it is no surprise that I underestimated my ability to quickly summit the highest point for sunset. The sand is so soft so for every 2 steps you take forward you slide back 3. Imagine climbing a tidal wave and you can begin to fathom this experience. With each handful of sand you push down in your effort to go up, you can feel – literally tons! – of sand moving beneath you. As the sand slides over itself it makes a low, groaning and sweeping sound that is the song referred to when talking about the ’singing dunes.’ It’s impossible not to look down as you claw your way up so in addition to being physically grueling, it is also vertigo-inducing. Not everybody could make it even halfway up and, with about 18 kilos of camera on my back, I was determined not to be among that group. After 1 1/2 hour of OCD, Rainman-like counting….25 steps up, breath for 50…25 steps up, breath for 50…I made it to the top of the Gobi.
Top of the Gobi
It was just Tuya, Nassa and I and they left me after an hour or so to have the sunset to myself. I had the sublime pleasure of standing alone on a windless night, the faint sound of the dunes and some baby camels calling for mama in my ears, watching a pink and orange fireball light the desert up before sinking below the horizon and washing everything in lilac. I can think of a handful of moments in my life when I have been in *exactly* the right place at the right time and this was one of them. The same way the sun lit up the steppes and mountains and dunes, it lit me up to. Life-altering and life-affirming travel, indeed. The light that shone on me that night remains glowing and the clarity and vision that it revealed are making wheels turn as we speak. The middle of nowhere was the center of me.
Singing Dunes
Khongryn Els
It is poetic and perfectly perfect that after this sublime moment alone with God that I hopped on a sled and let my adrenalin pump as I sped down the way I climbed up. Its like enlightenment and rock and roll all at the same time…the kind of life I like living. 4 more days of traversing the desert allowed me to experience life in a ger, sample the vast and interesting assortment of dairy products made by the herds people, gallop across dunes on a camel named Huchbar, slide across a Gobi glacier and score a fossilized dinosaur egg at the Flaming Cliffs. I was sad to say goodbye to Tuya and Nassa and their epic and awesome land but I feel like a piece of it came home with me.
Camel Herder & Baby Duck
Click here for a slideshow of my days in South Gobi.
