Image test: Mongolian archaeological edition

 There are two kinds of people in this world.

Mongolia Inside & Out 107: Dog-eat-dog world

Spring has arrived in Ulaanbaatar, bringing a reprieve from the extreme winter air pollution and freezing temperatures that dominated the city just last month.  Now that the nine nines (yesun yeus) are well and truly over, the snow has mostly melted from the surrounding hillsides and only occasional patches of black ice dot the city sidewalks.  I've retired my pollution mask, heavy-duty winter boots, and full-length down jacket for the year.  If any doubt of spring remained, I've been hearing boisterous clutches of sparrows chirruping and chattering in the bare branches of our courtyard and the nearby bakery.

WARNING: this post will discuss the animal welfare and rights situation in Mongolia, focusing on the status of cats and dogs in Ulaanbaatar.  There are plenty of upsetting phenomena discussed below the cut.  If you're sensitive or just don't feel up to ready about heavy issues today, don't read further.

Mongolia Inside & Out 106: Weather and seasons

Seasons are culturally-specific concepts used to understand ecological and meteorological phenomena through categorization.  While the four-season model applies to much of the world, there are numerous exceptions both culturally and climatically.  Mongolia generally adheres to the four-season breakdown of a calendar year; however, the timing, significance, and associations of each season differ in important ways from those in the English-speaking Western world.

Throughout the calendar year Mongolia is blessed with an unusually high proportion of sunny days (clocking it at over 250 per year on average).  Mongolia's relatively high altitude and numerous clear days avowedly bear some connection to its popular characterization as the Land of Blue Sky, the Land of Eternal Blue Heaven, or some other poetic variation.  Photographs do not do justice to the vast expanse of vivid blue, often dotted by impossibly-white cloud confections, that towers over the rolling steppe, the dark hills, and the hazy desert-steppe scrubland.

Brilliant summer sky over the statue of Sukhbaatar in Sukhbaatar Square, downtown Ulaanbaatar

Dawn on the steppe

Late afternoon in the sand dunes of Elsen Tasarkhai

However, it's not all blue skies.  Mongolian storms can be sudden and apocalyptic.  Global climate change coupled with desertification in Mongolia has led to a recent increase in dangerous flooding, especially in the southern parts of the country.

Thunder storm over the eastern Gobi desert

Lightning strikes during a flash flood in the Middle Gobi desert

It's difficult to discuss Mongolian weather in general, as it is so much a function of the given season.  On the one hand, a single day in any season may bring some combination of gorgeous blue skies, hail, and high winds.  Snow can fall even in the middle of summer and the sun's rays are as piercing in January as in July. While Mongolia is overall an arid place of extreme temperatures, let's take a look at each of the four seasons to develop a richer picture of what might be in store for you during your next visit.

Kheavenly Khentii brings khappiness: a short August adventure in pictures

The western portions of Khentii Province are some of my favorite parts of Mongolia.  In August a small group of adventurers journeyed through the winding valleys, mountain passes, and marshy floodplains in search of archaeology, history, and birds.  Here is our story in pictures:

[My thanks to Karolina, Robyn, and Marie for sharing their lovely photos!]



Day 1:

On the road in beautiful Khentii

Stopped at a burial on the way to Khukh Lake

Mongolia Inside & Out 105: What (not) to wear

Welcome back to the Mongolia Inside & Out series!  This post will focus on appearance and dress in Mongolia, as I've found it too difficult to tease apart the more abstract concept and the more concrete practice when it comes to talking about what (not) to wear here.

A version of this post has been sitting in my drafts folder for several months.  I realized recently that I had wasted a lot of time and energy writing a very judge-y indictment of the fashion choices of other foreigners in Mongolia, which is simply not the tone I want to take in this series nor how I want to interact with my fellow human beings.  Sure, it can be cathartic or amusing to recall Mongolian friends' and colleagues' reactions to white-guy dreadlocks, or to bemoan the American journalist who wore rumpled hiking clothes to a one-on-one formal interview with the President of Mongolia.  But that's the stuff of summer evening carp-sessions at a beer garden with other expats, not fodder for a series where I aim to provide useful information and hard-won experience for those coming to Mongolia for study, adventure, or permanent relocation.  I prefer to use my knowledge for good in this series.

And, just like Cookie, I learned those things the hard way

Let me offer some recommendations for several distinct sets of 'foreigners' coming to Mongolia, because where and how you plan to spend your time will dictate what you want to wear:

5 Days of July: Day 5 - Returning through ruins and rock art

On the morning of our fifth and final day adventuring through Central Mongolia, we woke at dawn and quickly got on the road east towards Ulaanbaatar.  But we were in for a surprise - a surprise camel attack, that is!

A huge herd of camels swarms the Millennium Road on our way from the Orkhon River to Khar Bukhyn Balgas

This was the largest camel herd I'd ever seen, made all the more surprising because we weren't in 'classic' camel territory.  Two of the herd still had saddles and packs on their backs, which means there were probably two camel herders somewhere to the south about to get their own unhappy surprise upon realizing they'd be in for a long walk to get their rides back.

Short summer coats make the Bactrian camel look like practically a different species compared to winter time

5 Days of July: Day 4 - Nostalgia

[All photos courtesy of Kenny L. and Reade L. - thank you again!]

The morning of our fourth day began rather abruptly.  If you will recall the post on Day 3 of 5 Days in July, you will remember that the night before we camped just over the hill from Kharkhorin soum center, hoping to get away from the boisterous danshig crowds at Erdene Zuu monastery.  Alas, we were not the only ones with this bright idea, meaning that throughout the night headlights would blaze through our tents, vehicles would rumble by, and small parties of celebrating Mongolians would set up their tents a bit too close to us for comfort.

Everything's peaceful by this point but check out all those tents in the background.  For rural Mongolia, this is unprecedented!

I was awakened that morning by shouting: our driver, Nandia, and the voices of several Mongolian men.  Bleary and startled at the same time, I couldn't decide whether to leap out of my tent to assess the situation or to feign ignorance/sleep (I decided on the latter for about 10 minutes).  I soon realized that, as annoying as all the early-morning shouting was, a group of Mongolians had gotten one of their vehicles stuck in the mud and were attempting to persuade Nandia to tow them out with his furgong.  Given the struggles his furgong had already gone through, Nandia was reluctant, and demonstrated that his furgong wasn't up to the job by ostentatiously taking out all of his tools and meticulously tuning up the vehicle.

Nandia opened up the engine bloc of his furgong to make some repairs and to let our visitors know that he has more important things to do that pull them out of the mud

But our human alarm clocks were a friendly bunch, chatting with me and Kenny about our group, one short and stout man asking for a photo of himself with the tall and slender Ty, and sharing their boodog from last night as I made American gambir, which we shared with them.  They miraculously pushed their vehicle out of the mud and took their leave, undoubtedly heading for the danshig Naadam grounds outside of Kharkhorin for the day's festivities.

Our visitors eventually managed to free their massive truck and trundle off over the hill.

After a leisurely breakfast surrounded by other campers, we headed off to the Naadam part of the danshig naadam about 10km east of Kharkhorin.