Mongolain Hospitality

The last two weeks have been a mixture of blissful travel and humorous misphaps. I really have been enjoying the overwhelming hospitality of mongolian and kazakh families. I have been traveling constantly since I arrived, either by horse, shared jeep, on foot, or in the epic furgon – those seemingly indestructable russian trucks which break down about every hour and are painfully ressurected almost as often. I'm not sure which is harder on the body -- riding a mongol horse or riding in a jeep with twelve other people.
Transportation is a bit rough in a country with no roads.

Still, in the coutryside, one stops whenever necessary at the nearest ger where, no matter who you are, the family will welcome you in and give you tea and food. If it is nighttime, they will tie up the horses and keep them safe and give you a place to sleep. No payment is expected. There is only the notion that if they passed through a place where you are camped, you would do the same. In most of the placed where I have been staying, I have camped and cooked my own food. So, sometimes I visit families and sometimes people come to where I am camped to visit me. But, for the next few weeks, I will be staying with Kazakh families in their gers just outside Olgii and in the coutryside furhter west near the border with China.

The gers out here are amazing. Kazakh gers are a bit different in style, decoration and form. I was worried that I was coming out west too late, but it seems the timing couldn't be perfect. As it is just beginning to get cold, many families are moving to winter sites and I've already been able to see some gers come down and get loaded up on camels or trucks. The Kazakh families out here stay in the mountains for much longer and then head towards Olgii, while the Mongolian families in the Namarjin vally began to clear out earlier and head towards Khovd.

Last week, I spent a a few days visiting a lone American Peace Corps volunteer named Emily stationed out in a Myangad Soum (a small village about 60 km from Khovd). Sadly, the day before I arrived, she found out that she is being relocated because of the treat of avian flu in the region. She is being moved back somewhere in Tov Aimaig. But, we came anyway so I could see her ger and hasha and she could say goodbye to the other teachers, take her ger apart and retrive her winter clothes. Sadly, we arrived to find her ger missing, most of the teachers gone to a conference and the school closed for massive renovations. Classes are supposed to begin Monday, but there is no way anyone will be able to work in the building till nearly November from the looks of the things inside. The countrysdie families somehow got word of all this, so no one has moved thier gers to the town and the aside from the enormous swarm of mosquitos, the place was fairly deserted. So, instead we camped out in the old “hotel” (a bunch of empty rooms where some teachers are also camped out) and visited the director’s wife who kept us fed and entertained.

Somewhere in the mix of things, someone managed to steal my shoes.

Luckily its not too cold in Olgii yet. But, the mongol winter comes on fast and strong and I’m just stomping around in my sandals and a thick pair of socks. For now, my pack is full of dried cheese, almonds, one extra layer, a sleeping bag, and my tent. I suppose I’ll have to find some mongol boots before I go out to the mountains.

But, you’re not having an adventure unless someone steals your shoes... right?

Heading west

I've decided to leave Ulaan Baatar and head out to far Western Mogolia (to the provinces of Hovd and Bayan Olgii) before it gets too cold. Winter seems to be coming a little early this year and soon the lakes will begin freezing near the Altai Mountains.

In addition to the weather, I realized it also makes sense to go out west before I start picking up much Mongolia, as most people in Olgii and Hovd are Kazakh, and donot speak much Mongolian. It has taken me about a week to get my contacts in the west sorted out and to find transportation. Not so many independent travellers head out this far west, as it takes a lot of time and is fairly remote. Really, in Mongolia, transportation is the main obstacle for any trip. Most group trips go to the Gobi or up to Lake Hovsgold in the North. But the building style is quite different in the Kazakh areas, there are gorgeous lakes, sand dunes and mountains and I'm thrilled to be headed out. I have planned a trip for ten days staying with eagle hunters (they hunt on horseback with eagles, not for eagles)and herders and traveling on horseback in the Namarjin Valley near Mount Tsambagarav and Tolbo Nuur.

Then, I'm back to Khovd Aimag(the province capitol) to plan another stays with a nomadic family in the lake region sweeping up to Bayan Olgii. I hope to be out there for at least a month.

I thought I might be in touch when in the aimag (province capital) picking up supplies, but it seems that both Khovd and Olgii have been without electricity for the last week. No one seems to know if and when it will return. So, we'll just have to see what happens.

arrival in Ulaan Baatar

From Moscow to Ulaan Baatar

Moscow recieved me with open arms and no trouble at all. I spent a few days in the city enjoying a new pace of life, my newly aquired freedom and let the reality of the next thirteen months sink in. Its an amazing opportunity that I've been granted and i could not be more thankful to the Watson Fellowship for this time and support in pursuing my project.

Upon arrival in Moscow, make some new friends - two russian girls who take me through the streets, canals, squares and parks and into thier hearts by day, a group of backpackers and foreign students who show me Moscow's nightlife and encourage my tendency towards insomnia.

But, I am not here to stay and in the end, Moscow is a starting point for my journey. I think of movement, I learn a little Russian and I prepare to leave.



This is the 0 km marker in Moscow, just outside the Red Square. My new friend and fellow Watson Fellow, Rob and I came here on my last day in Moscow. As per tradition, I stood in the middle, faced east and threw some coins over my shoulder, hoping for a safe and speedy journey. My time in Moscow has been quick and exciting.

For more pictures of Moscow, follow link to my flickr album here.

After a final day exploring the city, lounging around near the river drinking russian beer (which is all anyone seems to do in Moscow), and stocking up on supplies for the train, I bid farewell to the city. I'm ready for a little sobering solitude. Just the wind, rolling hills and views of fars and cottages.




Seven days on the Trans-Siberian rail and 6,500 km later, I've reached Ulaan Baatar, the capitol of Mongolia. The train ride here was amazing.

I've found a lovely place to live and am busy trying to set up more contacts in town and find myself a Mongolian language teacher. I am excited to be headed out west to Baigan Olgii and Hovd in the near future.

A more substantial update and hopefully some photos in the works.
Stay tuned.

Modern Nomads

I fly from New York to Moscow on July 30th, 2005, but my project really begins in Mongolia. I arrive by train and will leave by train. I stay three months altogether and travel from the desert to the mountains, from the grasslands of the central plains to the forests and lakes in the north. I leave Mongolia at the end of October before it gets too cold, but not without seeing some snow and feeling a hint of the numbness of a Mongolian winter.

Mongolia was an obvious choice for a project concerned with nomadic housing. Mongolians are famous for three things: horseback riding, extreemly cold winters (the temperature can drop to -40 C), and beautiful, brilliantly designed homes.

Mongolians are traditionally pastural nomads, people who live off the land by raising camels, yaks, horses, goats and sheep. Mongolians living in the countryside may move anywhere from four to eight times a year depending on climate, availability of water and fodder for their animals, and personal preference. When they move, they bring their homes with them, as well as all of thier belongings. These gracefull structures, constructed from wood, felt, fabric and rope, are incredibly durable, can be set up and taken down with great ease, protect their inhabitants from wind, rain and severe cold. They form the foundation of nomadic communities and countryside life.

In the last ten years, the population in Ulaanbaatar, the capital (and only) city has more than doubled. It is now estimated that around one third of the population lives in Ulaanbaatar - mostly in the ever-growing ger suburbs/slums that form the perifery of an already polluted, strained and rather troubled city. This new urban population is a mixture of students coming for higher education (and often staying for work), "upwardly moble" families looking for industry jobs and nomads who have lost their herds to the zuds (extreemly harsh winer storms) or simply sold them off.

Movement, nomadism, security, housing, weather and the land are constant topics of conversation in Mongolia. People were very eager to talk to me about what it means to be a herder, why they stay in the countryside (or have left) and what they see as the fundamental differences between nomadic and settled communities.