Welcome to the real 'big sky country'...

JULY 30th, 2009
WOW! That is the best word to describe the ageless land known as mongolia. Home to the greatest conquerer the world has ever known, and tremendous source of national pride...Ghenghis Khan! Endless plateaus, rugged mountains, pristine lakes, unforgiving deserts. And the people...many of them holding onto a traditional lifestyle that can best be related to the plains indians of the american west. Herds. Herds of Camels in the hundreds. Herds of horses in the thousands. Herds of goats and sheep in the tens of thousands. Each roaming across the land, blackening patches of the green grass that covers it.
...After crossing the border from Russia into Mongolia, the bus headed down towards the capitol city of Ulan Baatar, and it's population of 1.5 million. An impressive figure when you realize the entire country, which is the size of the american southwest, contains only 2.7 million. As we arrived on the plateau with the hills in the background, I spotted my first herd of horses carelessly grazing off in the distance. I struck up a conversation with a mongolian woman who had lived a short time time in the states. She tried to prepare me for what to expect of the only real Mongolian city. All her warnings weren't enough...people use the word chaotic for Milan, for New York, let's get serious folks, compared to 'UB' these places have the tamed organization of a small Swiss village. Cars everywhere...on the road, on the side walk, on the grassy patches, on top of eachother, this may be a result of the fact that the inhabitants treat the three traffic lights of UB as if they were christmas decorations (UB maybe the only place in the world that uses traffic cops when the lights are actually functioning, and the drivers ignore them just the same!) We arrived at the bus station in the mid-afternoon, and the woman was nice enough to offer me a ride from her husband to the hostel that i had booked a few days earlier. Upon entering the hostel, I was accosted by the manager, insisting i jump on a jeep trek as soon as possible...again no rest for the weary. I explained that i needed to 'sleep on it' and went off to meet my roomies...a brit(sandro) and a swede(bjorn). They had just arrived from beijing and were as tired as I, but after a brief discussion we joined together with 2 Korean girls to organize a 9 day jeep trek through central and north Mongolia, that would be leaving 2 days later. After a rest, i headed out into the concrete jungle of Ulan Baatar to search for some famous Mongolian cooking (joke). Arriving at the hostel exit, I read the notice on the back of the door..."PLEASE DON"T STAY OUT AFTER MIDNIGHT, THIS CITY IS NOT SAFE".... and I thought to myself...What the F@#K????

turka/lake baikal 2

July 28th and 29th. I had been offered by Tanya an opportunity to return to lake baikal, this time as a guest in a homestay, with a siberian family in the coastal village of Turka. It would be a 3 hour minibus ride through the mountains to the village, where i could find the home using a rudimentary, hand-drawn(by tanya herself) map. I left the hostel at 7am and headed to the city to find my bus, which proved to be more difficult than i expected. The 'bus station' was little organized, after securing my ticket i wandered around the hordes of travellers hoping to understand where i should be waiting. Luckily, a man who spoke a few words of english struck up a conversation with me, and happen to be heading to turka himself. Unluckily, he was totally wasted, and disregarding the seating assignments, instisted on sitting next to me. The next hour was a bit annoying, having the man continuously trying to hold a drunk conversation with me, using basically two phrases.... the first being "no, i don't", which he used after anything he said in russian (apparently he doesn't do much), the second "you my friend" which he used every time i showed my disinterest in the first. The teens in the seats behind my were entertained at first, but after a while their amusement descended into pity, for which of us, though, i wasn't sure...After consulting with the bus driver about where to disembark, Tanya's map actually was clear enough to lead me to my destination. The home was about 200 meters downstream from a river that flowed from the lake. A truly stunning location. I arrived just in time for a delicious home cooked lunch of potato soup and sausage rolled in cabbage leaf, and met the other guests, a russian family from western siberia. Through hand gestures, a dictionary, and my limited knowledge of russian, i accepted an offer from my host to be driven to a beautiful, secluded beach on the lakeside.I took some sun, and then when the time was right, my first dip in the pure water of baikal. It didn't last long..although it was the most refreshing water i had ever felt, it was also, at 16 degrees celsius(60 farenheit), the coldest i had ever felt. I took turns, 20 minutes in the sun, 20 seconds in the water...the reflections of the hills on the opposite side(30 miles away) reflecting off the mirrored surface. After being picked up 3 hours later, i enjoyed another home cooked meal, and walked along the riverside to watch the sunset over the lake, as a beautiful array of colors turned the sky from blue to black.The next morning i was awoken to the sounds of the breakfast bell for a plate of sausage and eggs. As i opened the door to my cozy room (for which i paid 22 dollars, 3 meals included) i was greeted by the father of the russian family, which dormed next door, holding a long fish, which he had just caught in the river...kind of ruined the surprise of what was being served for lunch...At around 10, the russian family and I were accompanied back to the beach. Not being able to converse much with them, i decided to walk down the shore a few miles. In about an hour's walk i met maybe a dozen other bathers, enjoying the solitude and peace and watching the sand's shade transform from golden to auburn to black...Later in the afternoon, i bid my hosts goodbye and boarded the minibus back to Ulan Ude, which we reached safely despite the harrowing experience of a flat tire, and thanks to the skillful maneuvering of our driver.A fitting way to bid farewell to a wonderous nation, as i was to catch a bud to Ulan Baatar, capital of the amazing country of Mongolia, the next morning.

ulan ude

The woman from the hostel, tanya, spoke limited english, but enough to get by with her guests. She ushered me out of the train station where her driver was waiting in a mini-van. We headed through the city, where I was shown the most important monument, a huge stone sculpture of Lenin's head (measuring about 20 feet high), and the main square from which i could find the minibus back to the hostel when i would be venturing out on my own. The hostel was a three story, wooden house in a small village about a 15 minute drive out of the city. It was surrounded by about a hundred other smaller wooden houses, surrounded by wooden fences and pastures for grazing cows, very cozy, if not a bit old west.In the afternoon, I caught the minibus(40 cents) and had a walk around the surprisingly modern city center. Not much to look at, apart from the riverside parks and beautiful surrounding hills. I briefly stopped in an internet cafe at the end of the pretty pedestrian-only shopping district, where a young man asked me from where i came. When I answered America, he just smiled and said 'Obama'. It's amazing how people react to meeting Americans these days, justifiably different from years past where i might get a scowl and 'damn that Bush'.Early the next morning I was served a lovely egg breakfast by Tanya, and headed 20 km out of town to see my first big buddhist monastery. Since this time I have seen about 30 more, so please understand if my writing is not so enthusiastic, but at the time it was a wonderful experience. I spent about 2 hours walking around the grounds, in and out of temples beautifully adorned with golden colored statues of the different buddhas. It being my first time in a buddhist monastery, i was terribly naive about the proper etichette of visiting such a place. I was 'scolded' by the monks on a few occasions. Things to remember: always walk clockwise around the inside or outside of temples and grounds; don't keep your hands behind your back; and never take photos inside without expressed permission. I decided to walk back to the bus stop, bypassing the cheap minibuses that run between it and the monsatery. It was 7km, distances can be deceiving when there are few landmarks. It was hot, humid, and the insects were a nuisance, but it also gave me the opportunity to walk through the countryside. The cows were my only companions, the crickets my soundtrack, the fields and rolling hills my view. The only unsettling thing was the confounded look of the minibus driver as he passed me every 5 minutes....