So I went to Mongolia

and… (whoops!)… I forgot to tell a lot of people.  So, if I didn’t tell you, my apologies but, yes, my Golden Week was spent in the land of Mongolia, revered for its rolling steppe and grassland covered in horse bones and animal excrement.

For the people I did manage to tell, the biggest question that came flying back in my face was… “Why?”  Why Mongolia?  What the hell is over there that’s so damn important?  There’s no Ankor Wat, there’s no sandy beaches, there’s no cheap masseuse offering a happy ending… why Mongolia?  There were lots of reasons, of course.  But for some people, Mongolia just calls your name.  It’s the closest thing in Asia to taking a time machine– once you leave Ulan Bataar you’re surrounded with nothing but hills and nomads for miles.

Mongolia is twice the size of Texas and has less people than Connecticut.  It is the country with the lowest population density on earth, with 1.4 people/ sq. km. (Those 0.4 people were really scary looking, by the way.)  It’s a country with a nomadic, relatively free spirit that spent over the last half century occupied by one of its neighbors, either the Chinese (who they hate) or the Soviets (who they hate slightly less, though they seem to mistake every white person for a Rushkie anyway.)  It’s like no other place on earth, with no large body of water to control the climate, and no large corporations breaking down the door to globalize a measely 3,000,000 people. 

And then there’s the stars.  One of those few things I’ve wanted to see before I die is a sky full of stars and devoid of light pollution.  I’ve gotten the closest to that in my life in Mongolia, and the base of a frozen lake under a clear sky (Mongolia has clear skies 256 days/year), with the lights out.  When the sky is that full of stars, they really do twinkle like they do in old Disney movies.

I rode a horse the size of a hobbit, traveled through sandstorms and across shoddy wooden bridges that were missing a few planks.  I climbed rocks and hung around in an ice cave.  I walked the sand dunes of the Mongol Els.  I ate enough mutton to put me off me for awhile.  I walked along a completely frozen lake in the early morning.  I’ve seen a Buddhist temple with some of the bloodiest and most violent religious artifacts imaginable, I’ve eaten lamb cooked from the inside with hot stones.

Most imporantly, I met some of the nicest folks I’ve known in awhile, and seen some of the best hospitality, from people who have very little to give.  I spent nine days in country and never once had to argue about the price of a bottle of water, never had to argue about how much a taxi ride would cost, and almost never had to deal with beggars asking for a hand-out.  For people who have so little and have been through so much, it was amazing how friendly they could be.

And that, if you must know, is why I went to Mongolia.