Smackdown in Mongolia

We left Sainschand on an overnight train to Ulaan Bataar. Luck was with us (me) as we shared our compartment with a cute Irish lass named Moreag. The trip was an over nighter and had us arriving at about 7:00 am the next morning. Moreag and Nonie took the top bunks and I the bottom as in all likelihood it would be me making the 3:00 am walk to the bathroom. About 4:00 am I awoke to this gentle moaning coming from the top bunks. Not a snore but more a soft low mooooaaaann. Knowing Nonie's snore, I realized quickly it was Moreag. I fell back to sleep secure in the knowledge that she was probably dreaming of me in the bottom bunk.

We arrived into Ulaan Bataar on the first day of the Nadaam Festival. The festival is celebrated all over Mongolia but the mother of all parties is in Ulaan Bataar, the capital of Mongolia. We were swept off the train and dropped off at a slightly run down stadium. The place was hopping with huge sumo-esque types wearing bathrobes, which we quickly deduced were wrestlers. Wrestling is huge in Mongolia and is a big part of the Nadaam Festival. It is not WWF wrestling. There is no ring, no masks or makeup. The match involves grappling with each other out in the middle of the stadium field till one of them manages to force the other's knee or shoulder to the ground. There are no weight classes so the small guys fight the big guys until there is just one man standing. The wrestling will go on for all three days of the festival.

From the stadium we were rushed out to the other big event of the Nadaam, horse racing. Not the typical North American horse race but a real horse race with the distance any where from 12 to 20 kilometres depending on the age of the horses. The race we were to watch involved horses who were at least 7 years old. The horses are ridden by young male jockeys, some not more than seven years old over a distance of 12 kilometres. You cannot watch the whole race only the finish but you can see them coming from a long ways off. The horses are ridden hard out for the whole race. Just where we were located we watched three horses collapse and die. We heard several more had collapsed and did not get up at the finish line as well. Not a great end to our day.

Our second ger (pronounced gar) camp was a step up from our first one with eight operating showers and hot water. We were still pumped up from the wrestling and perhaps a bottle (or two) of wine and next thing I know I was throwing it down with Aaron and some poor Singaporean honeymooner for the wrestling championship of the ger (pronounced gar) camp. But as you know what happens in Mongolia stays in Mongolia.

Next stop, Russia.

Giddeeyup!

Riding a camel is a bit like ridding a bike. A bike that has had the seat removed. Imagine sitting on a triangle, the pointy end. Then shake the triangle from side to side while moving it up in down in a jerky motion. You have just described a camel ride. Thankfully it only lasted a few minutes or I would never be able to have children. Thus started our second day on the Gobi Desert. I should mention that I just milked the camel so she may have been a bit cranky.

Fermented camels milk, or as it is affectionately known "white beer". We were served a mug while visiting the ger (pronounced gar) camp of a family of camel breeders. They wanted to get us drunk before we met the camels we were to ride. I realize now why. Nonie wins the prize for drinking all hers while I made it till the chunky parts. Will it catch on in North America? I don't think Molsons has anything to worry about.

Then it was off to the Black Mountain for a quick climb. You can see the Mountain from miles away as it is the highest point in the otherwise flat terrain. Climbed to the top for a great view. But men only. Women are not allowed to climb to the top. Some religious rule. A rule probably started by a Mongolian wife who did not feel the need to follow her husband up the hill on a hot Mongolian summer day. The upside, is if you get to the top, you can make a wish for yourself. I still waiting for mine to happen. If anyone hears that Shania is touring in Estonia in the next week, please let me know.

We did manage to fit in a quick visit to a site where they had discovered some dinosaur bones. Rory the five year old, son of our fellow travelers, the Taylor's, Aaron and Shelly, had been promised that we would be looking for dinosaur bones. Well if it is one thing the Gobi has, is lots of bones laying around. Despite its bucolic look it can be a tough place to live. To a young five year old, they were all dinosaur bones. He filled his backpack a couple of times over the two days. Mom and Dad had bought a real prehistoric tooth in Taiwan which was artfully seeded for him to find. He was ecstatic, thankfully as he was not taking all those other bones home. I can just see the look on the face of the customs guy who looked into that suitcase if he had taken them all.

Back to the ger (pronounced gar) camp for lunch, a nap and then on to the train station for an overnight to Ulaan Baatar where we are to enjoy a day at the Nadaam Festival then on to another ger (pronounced gar) camp which I am told is nicer than the first one.

Five Bars Over Mongolia

For you Blackberry addicts, you will be pleased to know that no matter where you are on the Gobi Desert, you can get cell phone connections. I could not get it in my apartment in Penticton but miles in the middle of nowhere in Mongolia, we are getting five bars. Telus should hire some Mongolians to work on their cell system. After a short 16 hour train ride from Beijing we arrived in Sainschand Mongolia at about 5:00 am. Most of the time was spent at the border dealing with immigration issues. After a pleasant strip search and some scowls we were allowed to leave China and enter Mongolia.
Our first stop was a ger (pronounced gar) camp located about 2o kilometres from Sainschand where we were to spend two nights. It was a basic camp with not a lot of amenities. Our ger (pronounced gar) was nicely appointed but the washrooms were a couple of 100 feet away. A long trip at around four in the morning with a wonky flashlight. One shower that sort of worked if you squatted down to use it as there was not enough water pressure to push it all the way to the end of the spray nozzle if you were standing. Some hot water, but cold showers were the order of the day. After all we were in the Gobi Desert.
The Gobi is not all sand dunes, most of it is made up of thin scrub where camels, sheep, goats and horses can find a few things to eat. Raising these animals is still the way of life for most Mongolians living in the Gobi. The live in gers (pronounced gars) and migrate at least three or four times a year. Mostly to assure that the camels, goats, sheep and horses have something to eat and to prevent over grazing.
A short nap and some breakfast, we headed out to a Monastery called Khamar. It has existed in the middle of the desert for almost 200 years. It it located here as it is near a source of some kind of power. It is a working monastery still today. There seems to be a huge deposit of iron in the area as the landscape is dotted with huge mounds of red dirt. Perhaps the power is magnetic. Despite the fact of its remote location, it was very busy with a few tourists but mostly Mongolians come to worship.
We were joined on our adventures by a couple and their young son. Americans currently living in Taiwan. We were stuffed into a minivan and transported around the Gobi at breakneck speeds over roads that had not existed a week before. If there was no road, we just sort of headed into the right direction. We got stuck in the sand once. But there was enough of us to push ourselves back on to solid ground. Not a problem. We could have easily called MAA (Mongolian Automobile Association) to send out some tow-camels. Remember we have great cell phone reception.

Later on our return to the ger (pronounced gar) camp, we came across a well where a Mongolian family was watering their goats, sheep, cattle and camels. They dropped huge canvas bags down into the well, pulled them up and dumped them into troughs where the camels, sheep, goats jockeyed for position get a drink. Finished, they jumped into their old truck (after using a big hand crank to get it started) and a couple of motorcycles and roared off home while the animals meandered off to find something to eat. It was a great end to our first day in Mongolia.

The New Adventure Begins

Dropped into the Bird's Nest and the Water Cube on our first day in Beijing. It seemed appropriate as our new adventure involves a job working in the Athletes Village for the 2010 Vancouver Winter Olympics. I start on August 10 and will be let go mid April. I had not planned to work in facilities ever again, but this is an opportunity that I cannot let go by. It means delaying our return to China by a year but it is an experience that will be just as exciting and mind boggling as our past year has been. Nonie and I plan to rent a nice condo in downtown Vancouver for the time we are there. Close to work and all the good (and bad) things that Vancouver has to offer. You are all welcome to visit us if you get the notion.


We spent our last day in Beijing with our friend Chao. We met Chao in our first few weeks in Harbin. He was hanging out in the hall outside my classroom. He was looking for some help to polish his English on his resume he was making for grant applications to US universities. We took the project on and happy to say he was accepted with a full scholarship to Texas A & M starting this fall. We hope to see him some time in Vancouver if he can fit it in.

We depart for Mongolia on Tuesday July 6th. Getting excited.

The Fat Lady Has Sung

The last week in Harbin was a whirlwind of lunches and dinners saying goodbyes to departing friends. It culminated on Friday night when we introduced the concept of "pot luck" to our Chinese friends. We feasted KFC, delicous quiches, pizza, rice balls and thanks to Tom and Aileen, fresh grilled hamburgers. Lots of food, beer and laughs

Saturday was departure day and a sad day for us. The younguns have been a wonderful part of our life for the last year and we are taking away some great memories. Takae, the daughter we never had. Branson, the rogue son who's antics both thrilled and dismayed us. Brian the enigma with the dryest sense of humour (That's humor for Brian) this side of the Gobi. Tom, our quiet son with a lot to say. Edoardo, our long lost Italian son who shepherded Nonie safely around Harbin and always made us feel special.

A big thanks to our friends Justin and Janie, who helped us in so many ways. We so enjoyed sharing our traditions with them, we will miss their smiles and thier friendship.

Many things went unsaid Saturday morning but were expressed in the fierce hugs we gave each other. We look forward to the future and the opportunity to meet them all again.

Our newest adventures began when we entered the car for the aiport.