Harsh landscape of Gobi Desert yields hidden treasures
This is the conclusion of Janet Landfried’s series of columns on a trip to China and Mongolia.
By Janet Landfried
We flew on Hunnu Airlines, named for one of the early nomadic tribes, to the southern city of Dalanzadgad. The flight was about an hour and a half and there awaited our drivers and cars.
Hishi, our guide, was so pleased that we would be traveling into the Gobi desert in Russian-built vehicles. Anything less, she said, would not be able to stand up to the rigors of the roads we were to travel.
Here’s the quote from the travel literature we received: “Once we land, we’ll board a coach for a drive to our camp through a stunning landscape that rolls out to the horizon.” What they didn’t tell us was that the “coach” resembled a big breadbox and we were to travel 200 kilometers that day.
It had small tires but there was plenty of clearance to go over rocks, and there were no shock absorbers, no seatbelts and no air conditioning. Besides the driver, there was room for seven passengers. I sat up front, the better to nurse my cold, the other six were in two bench seats that faced each other, with no padding and no seatbelts. As we jostled and bounced over rock and ridges, we had to cling to each other’s body parts to remain upright in the seats. The dust came through the crevices and cracks. By the end of the day, in my front seat, I looked like a bobble-head doll with a helmet of dirt-encrusted hair.
In spite of it all, we kept up our good humor and there were many more laughs than gripes. We all realized this would be the ultimate experience of bonding. When we asked Hishi why we were given such a hard trip, she said this was her company’s most popular tour and they did not realize we were so “elderly.” We forgave her that observation.
We had to pass the time somehow so we started singing — “You Are My Sunshine,” “Home on the Range,” “America the Beautiful.” Maybe Americans just do this when faced with a challenge and far from home.
Back in 1966 I was on a summer Fulbright in Ethiopia. Bouncing along the dirt roads of the Danakil Depression of the Great Rift Valley, we started singing to pass the time. We were attending Haile Selassie University, so we wrote our alma mater, “Hail Selassie U.” (Haile Selaasie was emperor of Ethiopia and died in 1975.)
This time our ACT host wrote an “Ode to Mongolia,” chronicling our current adventures. One verse: “I swear each ger owes me some hair, But with each raspy cough, What’s left of my coif, At this point I simply don’t care.”
We made a stop at the entrance to a valley. A three-kilometer hike or horseback ride took my friends to a place that once held a glacier and had a pool of fresh water, a treasure in the desert. I talked with a young man from France with a large backpack. He had come from Moscow on the Trans-Siberian railway and made his way south from Ulaanbaatar. He had walked the 30 kilometers from Dalanzadgad and was now looking for a ride to anywhere. We couldn’t offer that to him, as our vehicles were full. There are hardy adventurers out there.
We continued our tortuous ride through the desert and reached our ger camp, again near nightfall. Here the view was of high sand dunes in the near distance with much large, bare mountains farther beyond. The sky glowed with stars. Fortunately there was little if any wind.
Hishi told us that she had been praying it would be like this because the Gobi can be brutal.
Dinner was around one large table in a log cabin lodge, straight out of the American West. One of the nice things about this trip was that the guide and the drivers shared our table. These drivers were experienced men with years of driving their special little Russian vehicles. They also became friends. While I was checking out some rocks to buy (doesn’t everyone do that?), he looked them over and approved my purchase. When I had only three bills and needed five, he opened his wallet and loaned me two. I gave him an American silver dollar for his help.
Rocks are a big thing here. I’m not an authority, but there were geodes of all sizes and colors and other interesting stones. At one stop along the way, there were tables set up with various rocks in various sizes spread out in wooden trays balancing on wooden legs. It was at a well where a shepherd was dipping water to pour into a trough to water his livestock. Some entrepreneur reasoned that tourists would stop for pictures and he could sell what he found on the ground.
Others in our group also found treasures along the way. Large rocks and bleached bones found in the sand became souvenirs. When we flew out of the Gobi, these were taken by security but Hishi retrieved them and returned them to us when we got back to the city. They then went into our checked luggage.
We spent our third night in a ger, now in the Gobi Desert. One can only imagine how the people existed in this harsh environment. A major part of the success of settlement of people here was that they had animals they could depend on for transport. These were the Bactrian camels.
So our first activity in the morning was a ride on a two-humped camel. The camel kneels; you hang on the to the furry front hump and swing your legs over the animal and drop into a saddle. The camel stands as you clutch his fur and you are ready to go. I got on a camel, had pictures taken, in my favorite travel shirt, and got off. Because of my cold and because I knew we would travel many more miles that day, I opted to stay in camp. I had ridden a camel in Egypt and I had to choose what I could comfortably do.
The others rode off to the sand dunes in the distance, accompanied by three camel drivers and Hishi on her own camel. She said she does it several times a year when she brings groups and always enjoys it. Three or four were in a train, each person holding the lead rope of the camel behind. They traversed the low hills and rode off toward the dunes. They all loved it. I, meanwhile, enjoyed the quiet and beauty of the desert.
Time to move on, so we piled back into our Russian van. I have been on almost every dirt road in San Bernardino County and through the hills of Death Valley, including some pretty rough stuff.
The roads here were comparable but definitely not as comfortable a ride. We all had our favorite term for this experience. Surprisingly, none of us were bruised or got hurt.
We visited an area of red sandstone. It was here in 1922 that an expedition from the American Museum of Natural History discovered the first nest of dinosaur eggs. Since then, the Gobi Desert has yielded huge amount of dinosaur bones, and replicated skeletons from here are found in all major repositories around the world. Unfortunately we were unable to view any while in the country because we were not able to make it to any museums.
Here at the Flaming Cliffs we had a delicious picnic lunch prepared at the last camp. There were handicrafts and artifacts and more rocks for sale, but no sellers. It didn’t take long for two women, each with a child, to arrive on their motorbikes, having observed our arrival from their homes. One boy was dressed in a Dodger jacket. I bought some little bells that the driver told me are used to bell little children so their parents would know where they were.
Our last stop at a tourist ger camp was near the town and we arrived in the mid-afternoon.
Hurrah! Hot showers in an hour! I took full advantage of that and enjoyed the afternoon with my travel companions relaxing on the porch of the lodge. Sunset that night cast a soft glow over the hills and the desert.
The next morning dawned to overcast skies. We were to fly back to Ulaanbaatar, so we had to drive only about 20 kilometers to the airport. This was a cross-country treat. Each van driver took his preferred lane and it did look like a six-lane highway. Stretched across the desert floor were parallel paths that resembled roads. So much for ecological preservation of the desert floor.
But the Mongolians are sensitive to their environment and the fragility of nature. The nomads have perfected their way of life. Their diet is based on what they raise. Their homes are adapted to the climate and made of felt made from the wool of their animals, with a minimal amount of wood to give the ger structure. Urbanization is changing the population and the demographics, as it has in every country that has experienced such a shift.
We asked Hishi what the primary concerns are that she sees for the future of her country. Her answer: water and protecting nature. These people have lots to be proud of — a rich heritage and a future full of promise as they compete in the world economy. How they balance this will be watched by all. Mongolia now has known deposits of gold and copper and these are being exploited with foreign investment.
At the airport, we checked our luggage and then learned that bad weather in Ulaanbaatar had grounded all flights and there was no indication when we would be able to fly out. Some decided to go into town, such as it was. Dalanzadgad was drab and dusty, an outpost in the desert. But Hishi gathered us together and checked us into a hotel. What a surprise! It was new, modern and all steel and glass. The Gobi Sands was there to house clients who come to do the business of gold mining.
By the time we flew out, we were eight hours late. We did not arrive back in the capital city until nightfall (is there a pattern here?). Our driver had waited all day for our arrival. We missed all the activities planned for that day, such as visiting the museums, the central square, the Gandan Monastery and shopping. Not to be denied, several went to the largest department store that was opened until 10 p.m. Back in the hotel we repacked and got ready for the next day.
Right after breakfast we went to the airport to fly back to Beijing. We sat at the airport, our flight being delayed six hours. There were shops and we took advantage of that. Some of us discovered the duty-free shops and several of us brought a case of vodka. A case here was 21 tiny bottles. They would make the perfect souvenir; I could give friends a $2 bottle of vodka. Hey, that was cheaper than a postcard and international postage. When I got home and looked closely at the bottles, there was one for each of the 21 provinces of Mongolia, hence the 21 to a case. The label had a map of the province and some significant feature, such as gold mining, herding, a monastery and so forth.
When we finally arrived in Beijing, our guide had been waiting at the airport all day. We got to the hotel very late, retrieved the luggage that had been left and my travel companions had to hustle to get repacked and try to get some sleep as their pickup was for 4:30 in the morning.
They were off to Tibet, which I had chosen not to do.
I was ready to get home and try to overcome my cold. So I left the hotel a few hours after my friends and prepared myself for the wait in the airport and the long flight home. No matter how interesting, how exciting, how unusual the trip, it is always good to be home. So after three long trips to Asia this year, what’s next? I think Europe.
Would I like to go back to Mongolia? Unequivocally, yes. We missed so much, especially in and around Ulaanbaatar. From my reading upon returning home I found that there is vibrancy to that country that we didn’t see. There are also events like the opera and symphony as well as cultural celebrations of the country. There are art galleries and museums and entertainment venues. There are also ger camps near the city if one wants that experience.
I would like to learn more about the Buddhist traditions there and more about Genghis Khan who dominates their history.
The Naadam Festival every July showcases the three manly arts of the people — horse racing, wrestling and archery — and unites the people as they celebrate their traditions. The people here live close to the earth and in harmony with nature. But they are opening up to the rest of the world and I was privileged to visit now.
Janet Landfried taught social studies at Redlands High School and Redlands East Valley High School for many years and retired in 2001.
By Janet Landfried
We flew on Hunnu Airlines, named for one of the early nomadic tribes, to the southern city of Dalanzadgad. The flight was about an hour and a half and there awaited our drivers and cars.
Hishi, our guide, was so pleased that we would be traveling into the Gobi desert in Russian-built vehicles. Anything less, she said, would not be able to stand up to the rigors of the roads we were to travel.
Here’s the quote from the travel literature we received: “Once we land, we’ll board a coach for a drive to our camp through a stunning landscape that rolls out to the horizon.” What they didn’t tell us was that the “coach” resembled a big breadbox and we were to travel 200 kilometers that day.
It had small tires but there was plenty of clearance to go over rocks, and there were no shock absorbers, no seatbelts and no air conditioning. Besides the driver, there was room for seven passengers. I sat up front, the better to nurse my cold, the other six were in two bench seats that faced each other, with no padding and no seatbelts. As we jostled and bounced over rock and ridges, we had to cling to each other’s body parts to remain upright in the seats. The dust came through the crevices and cracks. By the end of the day, in my front seat, I looked like a bobble-head doll with a helmet of dirt-encrusted hair.
In spite of it all, we kept up our good humor and there were many more laughs than gripes. We all realized this would be the ultimate experience of bonding. When we asked Hishi why we were given such a hard trip, she said this was her company’s most popular tour and they did not realize we were so “elderly.” We forgave her that observation.
We had to pass the time somehow so we started singing — “You Are My Sunshine,” “Home on the Range,” “America the Beautiful.” Maybe Americans just do this when faced with a challenge and far from home.
Back in 1966 I was on a summer Fulbright in Ethiopia. Bouncing along the dirt roads of the Danakil Depression of the Great Rift Valley, we started singing to pass the time. We were attending Haile Selassie University, so we wrote our alma mater, “Hail Selassie U.” (Haile Selaasie was emperor of Ethiopia and died in 1975.)
This time our ACT host wrote an “Ode to Mongolia,” chronicling our current adventures. One verse: “I swear each ger owes me some hair, But with each raspy cough, What’s left of my coif, At this point I simply don’t care.”
We made a stop at the entrance to a valley. A three-kilometer hike or horseback ride took my friends to a place that once held a glacier and had a pool of fresh water, a treasure in the desert. I talked with a young man from France with a large backpack. He had come from Moscow on the Trans-Siberian railway and made his way south from Ulaanbaatar. He had walked the 30 kilometers from Dalanzadgad and was now looking for a ride to anywhere. We couldn’t offer that to him, as our vehicles were full. There are hardy adventurers out there.
We continued our tortuous ride through the desert and reached our ger camp, again near nightfall. Here the view was of high sand dunes in the near distance with much large, bare mountains farther beyond. The sky glowed with stars. Fortunately there was little if any wind.
Hishi told us that she had been praying it would be like this because the Gobi can be brutal.
Dinner was around one large table in a log cabin lodge, straight out of the American West. One of the nice things about this trip was that the guide and the drivers shared our table. These drivers were experienced men with years of driving their special little Russian vehicles. They also became friends. While I was checking out some rocks to buy (doesn’t everyone do that?), he looked them over and approved my purchase. When I had only three bills and needed five, he opened his wallet and loaned me two. I gave him an American silver dollar for his help.
Rocks are a big thing here. I’m not an authority, but there were geodes of all sizes and colors and other interesting stones. At one stop along the way, there were tables set up with various rocks in various sizes spread out in wooden trays balancing on wooden legs. It was at a well where a shepherd was dipping water to pour into a trough to water his livestock. Some entrepreneur reasoned that tourists would stop for pictures and he could sell what he found on the ground.
Others in our group also found treasures along the way. Large rocks and bleached bones found in the sand became souvenirs. When we flew out of the Gobi, these were taken by security but Hishi retrieved them and returned them to us when we got back to the city. They then went into our checked luggage.
We spent our third night in a ger, now in the Gobi Desert. One can only imagine how the people existed in this harsh environment. A major part of the success of settlement of people here was that they had animals they could depend on for transport. These were the Bactrian camels.
So our first activity in the morning was a ride on a two-humped camel. The camel kneels; you hang on the to the furry front hump and swing your legs over the animal and drop into a saddle. The camel stands as you clutch his fur and you are ready to go. I got on a camel, had pictures taken, in my favorite travel shirt, and got off. Because of my cold and because I knew we would travel many more miles that day, I opted to stay in camp. I had ridden a camel in Egypt and I had to choose what I could comfortably do.
The others rode off to the sand dunes in the distance, accompanied by three camel drivers and Hishi on her own camel. She said she does it several times a year when she brings groups and always enjoys it. Three or four were in a train, each person holding the lead rope of the camel behind. They traversed the low hills and rode off toward the dunes. They all loved it. I, meanwhile, enjoyed the quiet and beauty of the desert.
Time to move on, so we piled back into our Russian van. I have been on almost every dirt road in San Bernardino County and through the hills of Death Valley, including some pretty rough stuff.
The roads here were comparable but definitely not as comfortable a ride. We all had our favorite term for this experience. Surprisingly, none of us were bruised or got hurt.
We visited an area of red sandstone. It was here in 1922 that an expedition from the American Museum of Natural History discovered the first nest of dinosaur eggs. Since then, the Gobi Desert has yielded huge amount of dinosaur bones, and replicated skeletons from here are found in all major repositories around the world. Unfortunately we were unable to view any while in the country because we were not able to make it to any museums.
Here at the Flaming Cliffs we had a delicious picnic lunch prepared at the last camp. There were handicrafts and artifacts and more rocks for sale, but no sellers. It didn’t take long for two women, each with a child, to arrive on their motorbikes, having observed our arrival from their homes. One boy was dressed in a Dodger jacket. I bought some little bells that the driver told me are used to bell little children so their parents would know where they were.
Our last stop at a tourist ger camp was near the town and we arrived in the mid-afternoon.
Hurrah! Hot showers in an hour! I took full advantage of that and enjoyed the afternoon with my travel companions relaxing on the porch of the lodge. Sunset that night cast a soft glow over the hills and the desert.
The next morning dawned to overcast skies. We were to fly back to Ulaanbaatar, so we had to drive only about 20 kilometers to the airport. This was a cross-country treat. Each van driver took his preferred lane and it did look like a six-lane highway. Stretched across the desert floor were parallel paths that resembled roads. So much for ecological preservation of the desert floor.
But the Mongolians are sensitive to their environment and the fragility of nature. The nomads have perfected their way of life. Their diet is based on what they raise. Their homes are adapted to the climate and made of felt made from the wool of their animals, with a minimal amount of wood to give the ger structure. Urbanization is changing the population and the demographics, as it has in every country that has experienced such a shift.
We asked Hishi what the primary concerns are that she sees for the future of her country. Her answer: water and protecting nature. These people have lots to be proud of — a rich heritage and a future full of promise as they compete in the world economy. How they balance this will be watched by all. Mongolia now has known deposits of gold and copper and these are being exploited with foreign investment.
At the airport, we checked our luggage and then learned that bad weather in Ulaanbaatar had grounded all flights and there was no indication when we would be able to fly out. Some decided to go into town, such as it was. Dalanzadgad was drab and dusty, an outpost in the desert. But Hishi gathered us together and checked us into a hotel. What a surprise! It was new, modern and all steel and glass. The Gobi Sands was there to house clients who come to do the business of gold mining.
By the time we flew out, we were eight hours late. We did not arrive back in the capital city until nightfall (is there a pattern here?). Our driver had waited all day for our arrival. We missed all the activities planned for that day, such as visiting the museums, the central square, the Gandan Monastery and shopping. Not to be denied, several went to the largest department store that was opened until 10 p.m. Back in the hotel we repacked and got ready for the next day.
Right after breakfast we went to the airport to fly back to Beijing. We sat at the airport, our flight being delayed six hours. There were shops and we took advantage of that. Some of us discovered the duty-free shops and several of us brought a case of vodka. A case here was 21 tiny bottles. They would make the perfect souvenir; I could give friends a $2 bottle of vodka. Hey, that was cheaper than a postcard and international postage. When I got home and looked closely at the bottles, there was one for each of the 21 provinces of Mongolia, hence the 21 to a case. The label had a map of the province and some significant feature, such as gold mining, herding, a monastery and so forth.
When we finally arrived in Beijing, our guide had been waiting at the airport all day. We got to the hotel very late, retrieved the luggage that had been left and my travel companions had to hustle to get repacked and try to get some sleep as their pickup was for 4:30 in the morning.
They were off to Tibet, which I had chosen not to do.
I was ready to get home and try to overcome my cold. So I left the hotel a few hours after my friends and prepared myself for the wait in the airport and the long flight home. No matter how interesting, how exciting, how unusual the trip, it is always good to be home. So after three long trips to Asia this year, what’s next? I think Europe.
Would I like to go back to Mongolia? Unequivocally, yes. We missed so much, especially in and around Ulaanbaatar. From my reading upon returning home I found that there is vibrancy to that country that we didn’t see. There are also events like the opera and symphony as well as cultural celebrations of the country. There are art galleries and museums and entertainment venues. There are also ger camps near the city if one wants that experience.
I would like to learn more about the Buddhist traditions there and more about Genghis Khan who dominates their history.
The Naadam Festival every July showcases the three manly arts of the people — horse racing, wrestling and archery — and unites the people as they celebrate their traditions. The people here live close to the earth and in harmony with nature. But they are opening up to the rest of the world and I was privileged to visit now.
Janet Landfried taught social studies at Redlands High School and Redlands East Valley High School for many years and retired in 2001.
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