Monogolia, A Report from the Field: Back to Ulaanbaatar

Patti and Cap are sitting across from me in the dining room of the Comfort Hotel in Darkhan, Mongolia.  Just beyond us is a nice breakfast buffet, from which I have already partaken.  Now, I’m finishing my cup of tea and thinking about last night.

Shortly after I was shown to my room, an apologetic Yusuf knocked on my door and tentatively asked if I would mind swapping rooms with Cap and Patti as the bed in their room was too small for the two of them.  Of course I wouldn’t mind, I assured him, and off we went with my duffle bag to make the exchange.

I thought about warning them that my room seemed to be right over the karaoke sign, but figured there was no point in that as it might not happen and they would get a nice night’s sleep.

So this morning, I ask.  “Sleep well?”

“NO!”   

Oh, dear.  Mongolians seem to love karaoke, I think.   On one block in Ulaanbaatar I counted five karaoke shops, and that was on on;y one side of the street.

“Karaoke too loud?”

“No!”   Patti explained that the guests in the room across the hall from them had a very loud, very long argument late into the night.   Finally, about 1 A.M., they heard a nearby door open and a very loud, very authoritative voice said about ten words in Mongolian.   Then a door slammed and all was quiet the rest of the night.

Part of the buffet.

Rice and , yes, hot dogs.

Veggie soup.

Mmmm....    Flour soup with lamb?

Pickled veggies.

So, I finish my tea and we load up in the van for the final leg of our trip.   In a few hours, we will be back in Ulaanbaatar.   Cap will have time to make his 2 P.M. meeting, which has speeded up our itinerary.

I talk Patti into riding in the front seat, and though reluctant at first, she is thrilled once we get on the road.   

Boys herding the cattle.

After a few hours, I see the rising columns of smoke and steam  from the coal-fired electrical generating plant cooling towers that mar the cityscape of Ulaanbaatar and make it the second most air-polluted city on earth.   The first is Ahwaz, Iran.

Ulaanbaatar’s air pollution comes mostly from the coal-burning electrical plants, but also from thousands of gers, in which coal and wood are burned for heat.   The city sits in a mountain-ringed basin subject to temperature inversions that hold the smoke in the basin.

And then we’re there.   Chimdee pulls the van up in front of the Sunshine Hotel and I get out.   Cap and Patti are staying in an apartment just across a narrow access lane, so they’re home, too.

 

In my room, I download the hundreds and hundreds of photos I took on this five and a half day trip to and from Lake Khuvsgul onto my small travel tablet and label some.   I make a trip to the local grocery to get few things for the next couple days before we leave UB early on Tuesday morning.

I’m going to miss this place.  I’ve come to think of my room at the Sunshine Hotel as my home away from home, and the staff as my family away from home.  I’ll miss Yusuf and Chimdee, too.

My hot breakfast the next morning.

I plan to spend four days in Hong Kong before flying to Seattle and then on to Anchorage.   For now, I have two days to get myself and my luggage organized for those flights.

Sunday afternoon, Cap, Patti, and I meet several of Cap's friends for lunch.   These are some of the dishes served.   For some reason, I didn't take a photo of the main course--sheep ribs with potatoes and onions, which is delicious. 

 

Push this thing and a horrendously loud bell rings to summon your server.

A variety of dishes to accompany the sheep ribs and potatoes.

Zucchini

Kim chee

"Mushroom warriors" aka sea mushrooms.

Sea cabbage.

Sprouts

Asparagus.

and bacon potato salad.

The Hot Pot Korean Restaurant, just down the block from our digs.

Cap and Patti navigating the slippery sidewalks of Ulaanbaatar.

Mongolia, A Report from the Field: The People You Meet in the Darndest Paces, Part Three

Jantsannorov

We are just finishing breakfast at the Chinngis Khan statue restaurant, when suddenly Yusuf looks and acts as if he’s just seen Elvis. 

He has, in a way.  The Mongolian version of Elvis.

I ask what’s up and he whispers so softly I can’t make out a word.   He comes around the table and whispers, “That’s the most famous musician in Mongolia.”

Seated a couple tables away is a cheerful looking man named Dr. Jantsannorov Natsag, who is arguably the most popular musician/composer in the land.   He stands and shakes hands with various people, who obviously have arrived to join him for breakfast.   If this man isn’t the real Jantsannorov, but a look-alike, he certainly is treated like a celebrity by the others.

Yusuf almost has a panic attack as I go on a stealth photo mission.

Featured in many of Jantsannorov more than 300 compositions is the Mongolian mohrin khuur, or horse head fiddle, a string instrument with two strings and a bow.  Traditionally, both the strings of and bow used horse hairs, and generally preferred the hair of white horses for its better quality.   He has composed music for ballets, symphonies, soundtracks for more than 30 films, and so on.

Jantsannorov’s most popular composition, Yusuf tells me  later in the vehicle as he brings up a You Tube video, is White Stupa.   I was expecting something like Chinese music which sounds atonal to the Western ear, but the music is lovely and I listen with closed eyes as it plays.

Display of horse head fiddles on display in downtown Ulaanbaatar.

To listen to Jantsannorov's music:

Mongolia, A Report from the Field, Drama and Denouement

This is it; this is the time I’ve dreaded.    One last night in a hotel, a short drive tomorrow, and my Mongolian adventure will be in its final hours of organizing and packing and making sure I have the right documents for the flight out of Ulaanbaatar to Hong Kong.

It does not pass without a couple appearances of Cap’s faithful companion: DRAMA!

After lunch in Erendet, Cap accepts my offer of the front seat and I sit in the middle row with Patti.   Our wonderful guide Yusuf is again consigned to the back seat with the luggage.  He does not complain.   At least, he does not complain in English.

For much of our trip, trees grew only on one side of the hills/mountains.   Don't know why.

A Buddhist area.

While the seating change affects my ability to take photos, hence there are very few from this part of the trip, it puts Cap front and center where he can see all the action.  After a short time, he mentions the old adage about not understanding another until you walk a mile in his shoes, and adapts it to our current situation.  The view resulting from riding in the front seat is entirely different than riding in the middle seat and he expounds upon this happily.

Boys herding the cattle.

He also discovers one of the disadvantages of being where all the action is when afternoon daylight dwindles and evening darkness arrives:  Mongolians drive with their bright lights on and rarely dim them for oncoming traffic.  Our driver Chimdee is guilty of this, too, and this retired policeman is now a driving instructor.

If they do dim their brights, they make up for it by changing to brights just before they reach you, thus blinding everyone in the front seat and bringing on an episode of Cap’s DRAMA.   Cap, Patti, and I have all had cataract surgery (all by the same surgeon in Alaska) and I find that bright lights affect me more, so while I empathize with Cap, I keep quiet as he discourses about it.

 

Eventually, we arrive in Darkhan (also called Darhan or Darchan), a city of about 75,000, and one of the largest industrial cities in Mongolia.   Our hotel is the Comfort Hotel.  It gets moderate reviews on Trip Advisor, but I considered it equal to your average Motel 6.  Checking in takes quite a while and Yusuf handles it all.

This gives me time to wander about the lobby and find a couple interesting things.

Pineapple juice in a vending machine.

A cute little girl in the lobby.

Finally, we gather in front of the elevator with all our luggage and the bell boy picks up as much as he can carry.   There is a bit of confusion as the elevator clearly can not handle all of us and our luggage.  Cap makes sure all his and Patti’s bags are accounted for, and finds  his expensive CPAP machine, which he uses at night to control his sleep apnea, is missing. He carries it in a black pouch with a shoulder strap.  

The bell boy and I are already in the elevator, so they tell me to go on ahead while Cap goes to check the van for the CPAP, which I do, completely unaware that Cap’s faithful companion DRAMA is now FRONT and CENTER in the elevator.

 

The bell boy shows me to my room and sets down my luggage.   Then he takes a strap off his shoulder and I realize he’s holding Cap’s CPAP gadget!  I make enough of a hand signal/English word fuss that he realizes this is what was missing downstairs and he takes off at a brisk pace.    I find out later there was great relief when he showed up with the missing gadget.

 I look out the window.   If my reckoning is correct, my room is right over the Karaoke room and I wonder if there will be any sleep tonight.

After a few minutes, Yusuf knocks on my door and starts to apologize.   It takes him a while to get around to his purpose.   We have the very last rooms in the hotel.  (He had told me earlier that he had his manager cancel all the reservations on the trip when things began changing to the new timetable for getting back to UB by noonish Saturday so Cap could attend his meeting.)

At long last he gets to it:   Cap and Patti have a room in which the bed is too small for the two of them and he wants to know if I would switch with them.  “Well, of course,”  I say.  I haven’t unpacked anything, so he grabs my duffle bag and we head for their room.

I’m in another nice room now and not over the karaoke club.   I have a nice night’s rest.

A chunk of wood for the leg of the retro-fitted bathtub.

Cap and Patti do not, and it has nothing to do with being over the karaoke club.

The Daily Bruise:

Don't get any ideas.   This is on the outside of my thigh.

PS:   Yes, I'm having fun at Caps expense.   Really, there was little to say about this part of the trip and I found that Cap's favorite "DRAMA" photo that he uses on his blog when things go awry was perfect to fill in the long hours of driving.