MONGOLIA 2006

HOVD AND KHOMIIN TAL
So, after my day in Ulaanbaatar (UB), it was off to western Mongolia and the city of Hovd via Aero Mongolia, on one of their new, very comfortable Fokker jets. My purpose for coming here was to go to Khomiin Tal, one of three places in Mongolia where takhi, the world’s only species of wild horse, have been reintroduced. I wasn't sure exactly where it was, but Jan at Nomadic Journeys set it all up for me. After a short wait in the airport terminal, my guide, Oktyabr Vasha, met me and off we went.

Chinggis Khan Airport in Ulaanbaatar with the city in the background. A young gentleman stands for his picture in the airport at Hovd while my guide is somewhere in the scrum behind him getting my checked bag. Mongolians don't, as the British would say, queue. It's everyone for themselves. All the bags were coming out of one small square opening in the wall. But it worked.
The home of my guide and his parents. Oktyabr and his father built the snug brick house themselves! I was treated to tea and biscuits while we waited for two German graduate students, Anika and Hulda, to get ready. As it turned out they were, with my permission, coming with us and ended up being the excellent camp cooks. Hey, the more the merrier! No running water in most of Hovd, unless you want to run dragging this container from the well to your home. Somewhere in all of this, there was a stop at the bank and also to pick up another young Mongolian guy, who was apparently, with or without my permission, coming with us.
Local sheep at the market. Took this shot while Hulda and Anika ran into a small store and shortly after Oktyabr made another stop to hire a driver for his two month old Russian Fergon van that we would be traveling in. He drives perfectly well, but apparently we needed someone more experienced. I was soon to find out why. Two young school girls. Lots of them wear those cute hair bows, usually in white. I snapped this photo while Oktyabr stopped back by his house to pick up some fishing (?) gear and his boat (??).
After an excellent lunch at a local café, we made what turned out to be the last (yeah!) stop at the local Nomin supermarket, where I took this picture of one of the tea bricks that the herders use to make their milk tea. It's the cheapest you can get, mostly leaf ends and twigs and comes from China. We bought vegetables, rice, melons (which the area is famous for), bread, jam coffee packets and snacks. Finally, we were on our way! A short distance outside of Hovd, we came to this big river valley and stopped to climb to the top of this rock to take in the view. The gers belong to Kazakhs, who form a 90% majority in the far west of Mongolia and are Muslim, not Buddhist. The rest of Mongolia is 90% Kalkh Mongol. I was told that one can tell the Kazakh from the Mongol gers by the angle of the chimney pipe. The former is slanted and the latter is straight. I found the scene to be like something out of a storybook, even with the solar panels. The people here were starting to pack up for their move to winter quarters in the mountains, where it wouldn't be as cold because the cold air sinks to the valley floors.
Two Kazakh women enjoying the view and the warm weather. I hadn't yet summoned the nerve to ask to take people's pictures, but I couldn't resist sneaking a quick shot of their colorful clothes. Around an hour later, we stopped again, this time at brick factory which is a Chinese-Mongolian joint venture. There is a clay deposit here on the surface that has been worked for a long time. It was hot and the work was very hard and I found myself thinking about how difficult it is to make a living in a country with an emerging economy like Mongolia's. What a life, day after day, making tens of thousands of bricks, with no benefits probably or paid vacations. We westerners are so spoiled.
About this time, Octyabr told us that most of the workers were local university students majoring in building-related subjects and that a course requirment was to put in three weeks here at the local brick factory getting practical experience. The moral: Don't assume you know what's going on in someone else's country based on what you think you know about life and conditions there. But it's still bloody hard work no matter why you're doing it.
Our camp on the river the first night out. I had found out by now that it was over 130 miles from Hovd to where the horses were, over dirt tracks with no directional signs, in fact, no signs of any kind. We just pulled off the road and set up our tents in a nice spot. The fishing gear came out and two fish were landed in short order. Within three hours, a local herder came by on his motorbike to check us out. The countryside isn't as empty as it looks.

I hadn't acclimated yet and the night was very cold, made more interesting by a bout of the trots at about 2:30 am, probably caused by the one piece of undercooked meat in the dinner soup that I ate before I realized it. Thank the gods for Imodium. I was fine the next morning and we were on our way.		 Well, for the most part. We did get momentarily stuck in the sand while crossing the Mongol Els or Great Mongolian Desert. Believe it or not, it took the Mongols less than five minutes to get us out and going again.

We drove and drove. Occasionally there would be a consultation between the driver, Octyabr and the other Mongol guy, Sagee (I hope this is right. I never got a chance to get the correct spelling), and we would swerve from one track right or left until we came to another identical track and then would continue on. In the meantime, the driver, Onaa, had brought what was clearly a favorite cassette tape. So, here I was, cruising across western Mongolia with two German girls, and the three Mongol guys singing along as the car stereo blasted out Mongol songs about horses, the Horde and who knows what else. I was seriously having one of the best times of my life.
Khomiin Tal is a large area that has been set aside as a buffer zone for Khar Us Nur National Park. This is looking east towards the low spot between the hills where the takhi release site is located. We had only gone a mile into the takhi reserve at most when we saw a group of them grazing near the road. Everyone else was at least as excited as I was. The Mongols LOVE horses, so seeing the takhi was a big deal for them.
The research camp at Khomiin Tal consists of this line of traditional Mongolian gers. We pulled in and a few people came out and one thing led to another and I learned that while the WWF (World Wildlife Fund) office in UB knew about my trip, no one had managed to get the word to Dr. Claudia Feh, the world famous biologist in charge of the project. So, I had driven over 130 miles and essentially just dropped in on them with no warning. Gulp. I showed around a few small prints of my paintings so they could see what I do. Claudia, a no-nonsense person who is also a 2004 Rolex Award for Enterprise Laureate, said that she would have to consult for a half hour with her staff. Nothing to do but wait and hope. She was back in twenty minutes. One of the Mongolian scientists, Munkhtuya, had offered to let me go out with her while she and one of the rangers did their regular behavioral observations. She had smiled and said "yes" in Mongolian when she'd seen the painting I'd done of a Mongol pony, saddled and ready to go. It had clearly made the right impression. So, I was set. I would get to see the takhi for two hours that evening and two hours the next morning and then we would have to go because winter was coming on and the research team had a lot of work to do. Takhi grazing in the afternoon light. The first horses were shipped from a mountain reserve in France, where they had become acclimated to extreme cold, in 2004. There are now 22 horses, nine stallions and 13 mares. There have been no deaths so far and Dr. Feh is hoping for the first foals in the spring of 2007.
Morning light at Khomiin Tal. Was it worth flying all the way from California by way of Beijing and then driving for the better part of two days. You betcha!
More great light. Just as we got to the foothills above the river valley, we saw, right in front of us, this lone stallion glowing in the dawn light. He watched us for a moment, then turned and slowly walked away. Back at home, comparing photos for the painting "Takhi Trot", I realized that this was the same stallion that we saw on the way in the previous afternoon.
Social grooming seems to be a very popular morning activity, at least amongst the mares. Dr. Feh has made a deliberate choice to keep at least this first generation of horses socialized to people. When I asked her about it, her response was "Why should they be afraid of people?" And then explained the consequences of the limited gene pool that all the horses share. They are all descended from only 13 surviving animals and, at one point after World War II, there were only 8 horses able to breed. The horses she started with had a variety of genetic structural problems, like cleft palate, which had to be eliminated before wild release could even be considered. That is one reason why it has taken thirty years to reach this point. Tolerance of people lets the scientists working with them get close enough to see if they are having problems.
Munktuya and my guide, Oktyabr chat next to a feeding station made from old tires. In the background is one of the shelters that have been constructed for the horses. For shelter from the brutal winter weather, we thought. No, really more for shade from the sun it turns out. A small songbird that I saw, species unknown. Unfortunately, at this time, there isn't a good bird guide for Mongolia, which is a shame since there are a number of places that are world-class birding hot spots.
One reason to travel is to see how things are done in other countries. For instance, I don't think that I would be likely to encounter a dismembered goat ready for cooking in the average northern California kitchen. This amount of meat will feed 3 or 4 Mongolians for over two weeks. Munkhtuya and I in the staff ger. I will always appreciate her kindness in taking the time to work with a stranger. There might not be any photos or paintings of Khomiin Tal takhi if it weren't for her. It turns out that her husband is an artist and sculptor. So, once again art builds a bridge between cultures.
Dr. Claudia Feh bidding us goodbye. She was very gracious to her unexpected guests. A short time earlier in the ger, the staff had handed me a notebook, saying that it was their guestbook and that since I was their first tourist, would I please sign it and say something about how I liked Khomiin Tal. Needless to say, they got a rave review! Oktyabr and I at the "gate" into the takhi reserve as we leave for the trip back to Hovd. I sincerely hope that I will be able to go there again someday.
One last look back. I found out at the end of the trip that Sagee was along was because he had worked at Khomiin Tal and knew the way to the reserve, which my guide and driver did not. Without him, we'd probably still be out there literally wandering in the desert. Which explained all the discussions and "lane changing" en route. Sometimes you just have to go with the flow and this was really one of those times. We came to this little tatty ger out in the middle of what looked like nowhere to me. What a poor place, those poor people. Well, as near I could learn, this was more or less a field station or cabin. The real home ger was elsewhere. Looked at that way, what a pretty darn nice place to "camp out" while grazing the cattle. Once again, I tripped on my western assumptions about the meaning of what I was seeing.
"Aruul" drying on the roof. A staple of the Mongolian diet, it's really just dried milk. At another stop, I used my little bit of Mongolian to tell our hostess that I like aruul, which I do. The next thing I know, she and her husband are climbing into the van so we can give them a lift into Hovd and she smiles and hands me a big bag of aruul as a gift. What a treasure. It's in our freezer so it won't spoil in the damper climate of Northern California and I'm nibbling away at it a piece at a time. When it's gone, I guess I'll have to go back to Mongolia. The traditional greeting when approaching a herder ger is "Hold the dogs" since they are there to guard everything and can be aggressive. I don't know if I just happened to run into happy dogs or they were all satisfied and well-fed at the end of the summer, but none ever so much as growled. This one ended up on his back with Hulda scratching his tummy. She'd had the rabies vaccine. I hadn't, so had to keep my distance, just to be safe. He sure loved it though.
The white sack next to the door is the traditional bag that mare's milk is stirred in until it's mildly fermented and becomes "airag" or koumiss. Got to try it later on and liked it. It tastes like tangy, fizzy yogurt. Sometimes the Mongols further ferment the airag through a simple still to create "shimiin arkhi" or mare's milk vodka. Not a lot of flavor, but it was good too. As you've probably noticed by now, food and drink were not an issue for me. Tried it, loved it. Other than than that one "incident" the first night, no tummy problems. I couldn't resist getting a picture of the swaddled baby napping with his big sister.
The lady of the house went out to milk one of their cows. I couldn't believe that she was wearing such a beautiful del for everyday work. It turned out that the milk was for us and as we drove away, for the first time in my life, I drank fresh milk right out of the cow. It was absolutely delicious! What a rare treat for an American and something the Mongolians didn't think twice about.
After traveling on for awhile, with Mongolian music (who was that amazing male voice?) blasting out of the car stereo, we came to another ger. Satellite dishes and solar panels. Not uncommon anymore, but this seemed to be a very well set-up establishment. As you may have noticed, there aren't many trees around for firewood and winter is just weeks away. Dung is free for the gathering, These country families are herders, after all. In the foreground you can see one of the traditional baskets made for dung gathering.
To everybody's delight, there was a string of bactrian camels by the ger instead of the usual horses. I think of this as my "ship of the desert photo". So I teasingly asked Oktyabr if he was going to ride a camel for us. The next thing I know, he's gone and gotten the owner, who offers Anika, Hulda and I a camel ride. Anika and I jumped at the chance.
So, here's my terrific guide leading the camel around. Was this cool or what? For me, an unexpected, impromptu experience like this is what makes travel irresistable. I finally was able to get a photo of our busy host. It turns out that he and his family have lived on this spot for twenty years. Rather than being solely a herder who moves his animals with the seasons, he is a kind of ranger who is responsible for controlling access to the nearby salt mine. Salt mine?
Part of the access road to the salt mine, which is really a large area of surface deposits and, yes, we drove across that. As it happened, there were two men there collecting salt and loading it into cloth sacks. It had gotten quite warm, almost t-shirt weather, but you'd never know it just looking at them in their dels.
A young Mongol guy who we were also giving a ride to couldn't resist a chance to try his hand at harvesting salt with the colander like scoop fastened to a pole made from a tree limb. Ovoos are piles of rocks, stones, bones, blue scarfs and other objects that tend to be found on high ground like mountain passes. But I have seen them in a variety of places. They serve as a repository for local spirits and are part of Mongolia's shamanistic heritage. The tradition is to add something and walk around it clockwise three times. This was one of the more unusual locations. It was the middle of the day, but the ovoo, with it's garnish of animal bones, made for kind of an eerie feeling. Mongols have probably been getting salt here for a very, very long time.
We finally came to our stopping place for the night. This is the view back to the east the way we had come across the steppe. The route back was somewhat different from the way out, which was good. Turning to the west, this was the view, the famous reedbeds of Khar Nur (Black Lake), one of the two lakes in Khar Us Nur (Black Water Lake) National Park.
It turned out that this is a well-known spot because of the wooden bridge, which partially collapsed ten years ago and has not been repaired. When asked why, Oktyabr said "No money", which given Mongolia's economic struggles since 1991 when the Soviet Union withdrew its financial support, could very well be true. I do wonder, though, if it's partly because until recently "The State" took care of everything and no agency has stepped in to take responsibility. But obtaining and transporting timbers of the size required would probably take more money than anyone locally has to spare. So everyone goes the long way around for the time being. I did not walk out there on the loose logs. The final mystery solved- the boat. It turns out that Oktyabr spent some time in Germany and brought home a small rubber boat. As soon as camp was set up, which took about two minutes, out came the boat and the pump.
Oktyabr and Onaa, our intrepid driver, out on the lake. It turns out that my thought that he drove like a professional was more true than I knew. Anika and Hulda told me that drivers are the highest paid workers in Mongolia and I can see why. Onaa does the Hovd to Ulaanbaatar run, over 1,000 miles in 48 hours with two drivers doing twelve hour shifts, most of it on the same kind of dirt "roads" that I had been traveling on. I get tired just thinking about it. First light at our camp on the lake.
Early bird reward. Sunrise with Jargalant Khairkhan Uul in the background. I've been told by other westerners that when a group working with Mongols has finished whatever it's doing, that a group photo is almost required since the Mongols greatly value the experience of working together. Rather a refreshing change from the "me, me, me"” attitude currently prevalent in the US. So, this is our group, from left to right: Back row- Anika, me, Oktyabr and Hulda. Front row: the guy whose name I didn't get and Onaa. Sagee was taking the picture. I have never traveled with a better group of people and I wish them all the best!
We began the final push back to Hovd. When we stopped for gas, this gentleman was in front of us with a great old motorcycle and sidecar, probably Russian. He's wearing the only leather del I saw on the trip, which scores very high on style points in my book. I think the word would be "dashing". We stopped for lunch in a soum center called Dorgon. Mongolia is divided into "aimags", which is the equivalent of our "county". A "soum" is the equivalent of our "county seat". This place was on the shore of Khar Us Nur. We went into this little wooden building and placed our orders for "buuz", pronounced "boz", steamed mutton dumplings, one of the staple dishes of Mongolia. I ordered four. The ladies were nice enough to let me take their picture, though, as is often the case, they were a little bemused at someone wanting to photograph something so ordinary.
While we waited, I had time to just stand around and watch the locals go about their business. I thought this woman looked fantastic in her blue brocade del and boots.

When lunch was ready, we went to a second small building with long tables and benches and they brought the buuz to us. They were piping hot, dripping with mutton fat and absolutely delicious. 		After lunch, we still had a little time and I spotted these ladies sitting in the shade, clearly with some fresh meat to sell. I snapped off a couple of quick shots, they saw me and started to laugh and duck their heads. I walked over and said "hi" and that I was an American in Mongolian, gestured with my camera and thanked them. We then smiled at each other and spoke some more, nobody understanding what the other was saying, but it didn't really matter. We just enjoyed checking each other out.
As a last treat before getting back to Hovd, we saw this herd of camels on the lakeshore. along with some horses, sheep and goats and stopped for pictures. It was fun to see four of what the Mongolians call "The Five Snouts" all together. The only one missing was the cattle. Last stop. The ger camp near the airport where I stayed on my last night (for now) in the west. I was dropped off first, except for the folks we had given rides to. Everyone else stayed a little while and we all sat in these chairs together and chatted. It was a lovely, thoughtful ending to a spectacular trip. And this was only the first of four legs. Could anything top this? I didn't think so, even though I knew there were great things to come.

Oktyabr took me to the airport the next day. I was headed back to UB and, on the arriving flight was Jan Wigsten, who had made my trip arrangements. He was on his way to join up with a group who was on their way to see the Kazakh eagle hunters even farther west near the Chinese and Kazakhstan borders.
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