I’m back on the grid!
After a week and a half of trekking in Mongolia with seven strangers, I can tell you that I had no life-changing revelations. But I do have a new appreciation for camels and shoes that dry fast and also a lot of good stories.
Where do I even start with Mongolia?
The image I had of the country was of sprawling valleys, mountains that veiled the elusive snow leopard, and wild horses everywhere. Beyond that, I wasn’t sure what to expect. So there was a lot to fill in. Like how cars drove on the right side but some had steering wheels on the right. And the karaoke bars that filled every city block. Then there were the half-constructed buildings that looked like they were on an indefinite pause.
Walking around Ulaanbaatar it was easy to see remnants of its Soviet past — in the architecture, the written language, and even in the layout of the city. But alongside these living memories of its past are shopping malls, European-style pubs, and hip coffee shops.
Similarly in Ölgii, a city in the very west of Mongolia and where we started and ended our trek, there was also the contrast of new and old. But it was much more pronounced. In terms of development, UB is by far the most “western” city in the country. Ölgii has a lot more run-down buildings from the Soviet era that are still standing. One person remarked that the city looks like the backdrop to a movie set in a war-torn country. It was hard to disagree just by the nature of the buildings looking like they had been frozen in time. Some of them with foundations crumbling, others abandoned. At the same time, we stayed in “the nicest hotel” in the city. Just outside there was a plaza where kids drove around remote-controlled cars and people ate soft-serve from one of the square’s vendors.
The dichotomy seems to be a reflection of the country’s struggle to move on from its past which often overshadows its present. Besides the Soviets, the legacy of Genghis Khan and his empire is everywhere. From souvenir shops to the museum dedicated to him, and the huge statue of the man in the main public square. As Mongolia tries to define its culture and who they are in the present the past will always loom largely over it. Which is maybe something they’ve embraced. Their Olympic outfits seemed to reflect an appreciation for their past while trying to move forward into the future.
I’ve already written about this and how visiting new places rips open all the blindspots one may have about a people or culture. So I always find it amusing when people spend a few days in a place and draw conclusions about it or the people. I know I’ve done it before — heck I’m even doing it now as I try and share about my experiences in Mongolia. What I can’t stand are those who try and act like they have all the answers. Observations are one thing. Conclusions are another.
That brings me to the title of this post which comes from a running joke some of my fellow trekkers and I had.
An Australian told us about a painful interaction he watched in the airport on the way to Mongolia. A man telling who appeared to be his uninterested girlfriend about how he was a “traveler” and not a “tourist.” For the rest of our trip he, the New Zealander, and I would not stop making fun of people we saw as those who’d consider themselves “travelers” and not “tourists.” You know the people who look like they are dressed for a National Geographic expedition or would rather introduce themselves by telling you how many countries they’ve been to rather than where they’re from. Since, you know, they’re “citizens of the world.” (We might have had a couple of our own “CoWs” on our trek.)
It’s “Columbus-ing” to the extreme. And in this day and age where information is so accessible via the internet, it’s impressive (delusional) to think you have “discovered” something.
The commonality I’ve noticed among these people is how they view other cultures and their people. Like they’re a specimen — a living fossil for them to take notes on and share with the rest of the world. That is what feels so uncomfortable. It leads to a sort of entitlement that underlies all their interactions with locals. From trying to buy a hat off of someone’s head or asking to pose with a naked child, these experiences become what they hate most about their counterparts, the tourist, they become currency.
As my travels are coming to a close this is something I’ve continued to reflect on. How I travel and how I can be a better, more responsible traveler. It’s hard to do in the sense that a lot of travel is most accessible in terms of tourism — a means of capital for the location that doesn’t always translate to an experience that actually offers an honest reflection of a place. It’s hard to strike the right balance between doing all the things the official tourism board promotes and the things more “off the beaten path.” But that’s also the beauty of travel, there is no right way to do it despite those who insist there is.
So long as we remember that at the end of the day, we are guests in another person’s home. We wouldn’t point out how dirty someone’s place is compared to ours. We wouldn’t make fun of what they eat. Or what they wear in the comfort of their own home. The same logic, I believe at least, should apply to travel. And as obvious as this may all sound, I can promise you that there are plenty of people out there who do not travel like this.
I say all of this of course with a grain of salt. I’m still trying to figure out what feels right to me when I travel. What experiences I choose to do and how I do them. But I like taking the time like this to reflect, it at least means I’m trying.
Highlights of the trek:
(Almost) Summiting Malchin Peak (13,200 ft): I always hesitate to say I’m a hiker when people ask. Living in the PNW has ruined my self-image as an outdoorsy person. But I’m pleased to say after learning to use the “rest step” I feel very good about being able to ascend mountains…literally. We had to turn back around just 60 meters from the official summit due to weather conditions. But it was a breathtaking view that put us right on the border of Mongolia and Russia.
River crossings: Unlike treks/hikes I’ve been on, the trail we followed was not exactly “maintained” as in there are no signs or formal markings to assure you you’re going the right way. And also no footbridges for rivers that might be too deep to cross without getting wet. This meant sucking it up and just wading across. It was pretty fun watching the others who chose not to try and get wet and who took off their shoes and socks.
An unplanned 8-hour car ride: We were scheduled to arrive back in Ölgii for the Naadam festival on Thursday but for some reason, they didn’t realize it started a day earlier. So we made a group decision to go back a day early in order to watch the opening ceremony of the festival. This change in plans was made around 3 p.m. on Tuesday and meant an 8-hour car ride (most of which was over bumpy terrain). The New Zealander gave our car an education in classic Australian/New Zealander tunes.
Khuushuur: This is a traditional dish made for the Naadam festival. It’s found year-round but usually in a meat pie form. For the festival, they roll them out into pancakes and are sold literally everywhere. They’re delicious and quite simple, just fried dough with meat in the middle. The ultimate drunk food — or at least I assume — there was no alcohol at the festival so this observation was based more on the fact that it was greasy and delicious.
Horse racing: On the second day we went a little outside of town to watch the horse racing. We couldn’t really tell what the course was but they were racing for about 20 km according to our guide. The atmosphere was brilliant with people setting up tents for their families to lounge around and enjoy lunch while we all waited for the horses to cross the finish line. There was a section where vendors were set up selling Khuushuur and BBQ meats along with fruits and toys for kids. We also got to see some other traditional horse games. One where competitors try and scoop coins off the ground with their hand while still on their horse. And another where a man and a woman race around a course and if the woman catches up to the man she can beat him with a rope.
Dancing with the Kazakhs: After dinner one night back in Ölgii, some of our group joined in dancing at the restaurant we were at. Someone was on the stage they had (I don’t know why they had a stage) singing so we busted out the moves or as the New Zealander said we were “cutting shapes.” Turns out the singer was a part of a group of Kazakh pop stars(?) eating dinner that night. They loved us so much they asked us to stay for another song. We couldn’t say no, so after a shot of tequila, we kept on dancing. We eventually took it outside where there was a 20-year high school reunion having a party/concert in the plaza outside our hotel. Encouraged by our guide (probably after seeing the positive reaction we got upstairs) we crashed the party and tore up the dance floor there too.
I’m writing this from Shanghai and I’ll end my travels in Taiwan. I opted to save Australia for its own trip — too much to do in just a few days. But a good reason to come back to this side of the globe again.
I’m not sure what this blog/newsletter will look like when I’m back, but I think I’ll it up…
Cheers,
DD
Bravo♥️