My Weekend in Mongolia

By the time that mid-October came around, I was ready to get out of Beijing for a few days. Perfect time for a visa run. Luckily for me, I have some friends up in UlaanBaatar, Mongolia. We made the plans and set a date. I was going to be on my way there on the 27th. With everything that had been going on at the school I was looking forward to my get away. 

Finally the day had arrived. To catch my flight, I had to leave work a couple hours early and grab a Didi (Chinese Uber). A bald, middle-aged gentleman pulled up in an old Mercedes, I hopped in, and we were off. If you’ve never been in a Chinese man’s car in China, it is an experience and a half. Chinese people are not bad drivers. They are great drivers, but everyone drives like they are in Fast and the Furious. Even the bus drivers.  You can watch these guys drive at breakneck speeds then stop mere centimeters, less than an inch, away from the bumpers of the cars in front of them. It is amazing to watch and terrifying to be in. 

The Panic

Around 45 minutes later we got to the airport. I ran through security and we were off to Mongolia on one of the tinier jets I have been on. About halfway through the 2 hour flight, my neighbour and I had started chatting it up. He was an American living in Mongolia and coming home from being in Beijing for some business. 

After about a half hour of talking, he informed me that I needed a visa to go to Mongolia. Everything in my research told me that as a Canadian I was good for a few weeks before needing a visa. So after another half hour of him freaking me out about not having a visa, we finally landed. While going through customs I fiddled with my passport as I waited for my turn. 

Eventually my time came. I was beckoned forward to the cubicle. Hand passport over. Avoid direct eye contact. Don’t look sus. You are not the imposter. Answer all the normal questions. Do your tasks. Follow the instructions. Then the question, “Where’s your visa?” Sh*t. “It was my understanding that I don’t need a visa if I am staying less than 90 days”, I replied. “You’re only here until sunday?” he says inquisitively. I nodded passionately in response. Passport stamped and we are through! I was not the imposter! White is definitely sus though.

To read about internet security click here.

Shortly after getting outside and feeling the brisk winter air kiss my face like a thousand needles, my friend Uuna got there to pick me up. Post-driving cutscene, we were in Uuna and Oona’s apartment. A fairly large square room with a kitchen, living room, and dining room. Two rooms offshoot from the main room. The bathroom and master, and only, bedroom. The walls an off-white with a personal Buddhist shrine with pictures on a table against one wall. I was tired, but we still sat and talked while snacking on some nice Mongolian food. After an hour or two of talking, they headed to bed and I retired to the couch.  

A Breakfast to Remember

I was awoken early the next morning as the light trickled in between the slatted curtain and fell upon my closed eyes. Noticing I was the first to be awake, I slowly sat up before shuffling into my coat and popping out onto the balcony for a morning cigarette. The cold hit me like a slap in the face. It was different from the cold in Beijing. Beijing was more of a piercing cold. It flayed you down to the bone no matter how much you were wearing. Mongolia was closer to Alberta’s cold. More of a sting on the surface of the skin. Much like the way a fresh tattoo feels. Not to mention Ulaanbaatar had a lot more snow than Beijing.

The first thing I noticed as I looked around in the crisp new light of day was the architecture. As far as my eye could see were the sharp, boxy angles of the Russian’s cube-like architecture. Later, when I asked Uuna about it, he told me it is due to the intervention and occupation of Russia in the 1900’s.

After some more time catching up, we decided to have a late breakfast/early lunch. This consisted of a game of “have Jenson try some interesting foods without telling him what they are”. Breakfast consisted of eggs, bread, homemade pancakes, Mongolian Nutella called Nusco, and two delicacies. 

The first delicacy was a gelatinous substance with meat bits in it that, after trying, I was told was made out of the hoof of a horse or yak. Was not really a fan. It tasted about how it sounds. The second was a boiled sheep’s face. Keep in mind I was not told what it was before eating it.  

When I popped a slice into my mouth I immediately noticed it tasted and smelled of mutton. Just really, really, incredibly spongey, chewy mutton. If you like sheep you will probably love it. If not, it is best to avoid, but overall I was fairly neutral on it myself honestly. Would have been better without the super chewiness.

Suhkbaatar Square

After lunch, Uuna and I hopped in the car so he could show me around. Oona decided to stay home with their fairly newborn child. While driving through the town, Uuna explained to me how they have a rule about how the last number on the car’s license plate decides what days you can drive your car through the city. They do this to curb pollution from cars within cities.

A short drive later, we park and walk over to the square. In the middle, there is a point which marks the exact middle of the city. While we were looking at and talking about the point marking the middle of the city, the guards descended from the city hall in ceremonial garb. They did an elaborate march down the stairs and across the plaza. In complete unison they marched in beautiful patterns for a good 15 minutes minimum.

After we watched the performance, we walked across the plaza to the Sukhbaatar statue. Uuna told me that this was one of the heroes of Mongolia. How he was the father of Mongolia’s revolution. After a couple of pictures and some contemplation, we headed across the road to the post office. With a whole myriad of different amazing-looking stamps and postcards lining the walls and counters, the place looked absolutely amazing. We purchased a few postcards before we were off once again.

Want your need-to-knows for China? Click here.

A Day of Reverence and Prayer

After a great conversation about the things to do and see in Ulaanbaatar, we decided to go to one of the famous monasteries in the area. Gandantegchinlen Monastery means “The Great Place of Complete Joy”. Housing over 150 monks, it holds a 26.5 metre (~87 feet) statue of Avalokiteśvara the bodhisattva who embodies the compassion of all Buddhas.

We weaved throughout the traffic of inner Ulaanbaatar as Uuna pointed out various buildings and locations of note. Parking outside the entrance to the temple grounds we got out and there was just a presence. It’s one of those locations on earth that just has its own presence. You walk in and just feel it.

The one here was peaceful and joy that just washes over you as soon as you walk through those gates. It reverberates through you when you spin the prayer wheels. When you enter the room full of chanting monks, it’s as if the floodgates are released and it just crushes you, taking your breath away.

Entering the main temple is like entering a different world altogether. Looking up at the 26-metre golden, multi-armed statue fills you with awe. Your jaw can do nothing except rest itself upon the floor as you crane your neck back to take it all in. When entering and leaving the building, you must face the statue out of respect. This means walking out backwards over the high steps.

Before going into the main temple, my friend asked me to not take photos out of respect. I am sad to say that at the time I did not respect that request. For that my friend, I am truly sorry. I thought more of myself and sharing that experience with others than your beliefs and how that would make you feel.

After the temple, we met back up with Oona to go out for an authentic Mongolian dinner. Round two of “make Jenson eat stuff without telling him what it is”. This one went a lot better. There is not a thing that I can remember not liking. I can’t remember what it all was but it was delicious. Mongolian cuisine is incredibly meat-heavy. You have normal beef and pork, but also a lot of horse, sheep and yak meat. If you ever get the choice to have authentic Mongolian food, 100 percent take it.  

After an amazing evening of dinner and great conversation, we retired to our beds. The next day would be another big day chock-full of new things to see

The Father of a Nation

After a huge breakfast, some conversation and more conversation, me playing with the newborn, and a few gifts from Oona’s mother, Uuna and I headed out. Without any knowledge of where we were going, we drove through the countryside. I continuously looked on in wonder while passing the gers (the English speakers commonly refer to these as yurts) and the free-roaming cattle.

As we drove, Uuna filled me in on a bit of the History of Chinggis Khan. With a large persistence on the fact that Gengis Khan was not actually his name. Just the western bastardization of his name. After a good half hour to an hour of driving through a national park, I spotted something in the distance. 

Before long, the image in the distance slowly came into focus. As we approached the statue that loomed on the skyline, its features slowly became more distinct.  When the whole thing had finally come into focus,  all you could see was the entire glory of a 40-metre tall statue of Chinggis Khan riding his horse. The only things nearby are some gers, a parking lot, and an arch stating that this is the Great Chinggis.  For miles and kilometres around, there is nothing but flat land slowly racing itself up the side of mountains just before the horizon.

If you’d like to hear about my first days in China click here.

All My Friends Know the Low Rider

Uuna had decided to wait in the car while I traversed the building holding the statue. My base assumption was that I would be doing nothing other than taking a quick peek before we headed back out. Boy was I ever just so wonderfully wrong. The first thing you really notice as you start to ascend the stairs leading to the building is that there are people on the top of the Horse’s head. Meaning you can climb your way up about 70 percent of the building to get a real look at the surroundings. 

Once inside, the first thing you notice is a wide-open area with stairs leading both above and below, ringing the inner courtyard of the circular building where some very large scrolls were hanging. In the middle of the room stood a wooden pedestal, and all around were different signs with historical facts. Around the outer ring on both the first and second floor, was a bunch of shops. You had the normal kitschy Mongolian tourist items, some cashmere clothes (both handmade and not), handmade bags, small statues of the statue I was standing in, and a myriad of both handcrafted and non-handcrafted items and wall décor.

The first stop is the top of the statue though. After the initial stairs, which were wide and glacis, you enter a small door. A very tight, steep winding set of stairs sat on the other side which led to the top of the horse. Right before getting to the top though, I had to literally squeeze myself between two walls to get past one point on the stairs.

Once at the top, it opened up to the fresh air and you could see everything. The plains stretched out in every direction. Seldom broken by only Queen Tuul. The river on the banks of which Chinggis Khan supposedly found the golden whip that inspired his future conquest. In the distance you can see the mountains stretching up towards the sky. Reaching up as if trying to allow the heavens to rest upon their peaks. The plains were only marred by a length of road and a few gers. The feeling of being on top of the world sweeps you away on a cloud of euphoria.

A Place of Ideas

Squeezing my way back past that thin gap between the walls, I headed back downstairs to go into the basement this time. Slowly walking down the stairs as I admired the pictures and tapestries. Stopping periodically to read a plaque that piqued my interest. When I get into the main underground rooms, I go around reading about the fascinating history of Chinggis Khan and his many descendants. I snap pictures until a guard approaches me and tells me not to take anymore. 

After reading my way through the history of Mongolia, I head back upstairs to get myself a couple of souvenirs. The top priority was a handmade bag, followed by a handmade cashmere toque. Mongolia is renowned for its cashmere. Last, but not least, I grab some wall art for myself and some friends before heading back out to meet up with Unna. 

If you want to read tips for making money while travelling click here.

When Uuna and I got home, Oona’s sister was there waiting for us. She had decided she would take me around town a bit to show me some more things. Unfortunately, the traditional dance event had been cancelled last minute, or we were too late to go. I can’t recall the reason anymore.

 Instead, we ended up walking around town, chatting, and ending up at a mall. Peeking in and out of stores to see if there was anything I could get there that I couldn’t in Beijing, we mainly just talked. Eventually, we came across a cute little store with a red piano as its centrepiece. After asking if it was alright, I sat down and played a bit. After a couple of songs we continued on our way, ultimately ending up heading back to my friend’s place where we had a great dinner.

The rest of my time in Mongolia including how my tattoo was conceived, my first experience with airag, and the world’s sketchiest tattoo experience can be read here.

Have you ever gotten to go to Mongolia? What was your experience like? Is Mongolia now on your bucket list? Tell us about it in the comments below.