Mongolia 4: An uncomfortable situation followed by the wonderful Gobi Desert

   I was woken up at 11:00 PM, to loud chattering in the adjacent room.  Dorj's room.  He knew that the walls were paper thin, since we had experienced it first hand on our initial stay. When we arrived at the guesthouse the previous day, we were greeted by a friend of Dorj.  This is not to be confused with the other man who accompanied the driver as we returned on horseback.  This new friend also appeared at dinner, and shared a room with him that night.  When I awoke, the two of them were talking with a third man.  I knocked and asked them to quiet down, which they did.  The third man left immediately.

  The next morning I spoke with Dorj.  I expressed my dissatisfaction with the late night disruption, that he had chose to invite a friend, and that I had been pressured to bring an additional passenger on the ride up.  He acknowledged my concerns and apologized.  We walked a few feet to the car.  The driver's friend was there.  I packed up my gear and sat down.  The friend opened my door.  He didn't knock.  He just opened the door.  His English was impeccable, which was something I noticed when he arrived the day before. He asked me if he could come on the ride to Murun.  I flatly responded with "No."  Dumbfounded at my negative response, he became angry.  He laughed, declaring that the vehicle was his.    I explained that if this was truly the case, that he had erred in contracting the car out. He retreated  and spoke Mongolian with the driver and Dorj.  Dorj did not have my back.  For a brief moment I considered getting out of the car, however this would have made little sense.  I was in rural Mongolia, with no ability to speak the language, there was little cell phone reception, and I was being threatened.  I chose to delay action, and so he came with us.

  I had just a few minutes of internet connection left as we began the drive.  I decided to send out three messages.  A simple one to my father, giving him the tour company's information, under the guise of general information to have.  I sent Jeremy a text giving him a basic description of what was going on, and that if he didn't hear back from me after ten hours, to contact my father and tell him what had happened.  I also sent a similar message to one other friend of mine.  We drove out of data range and I began writing a summary of what had happened, on my phone.  As we reached the paved roads outside Murun, I sent it in an email to the tour company.  

  I arrived safely at the hotel.  Shortly after, the owner of the company called me, reportedly from the hospital(I do not recall what event had led her there, unfortunately).  She was very apologetic and proposed two options.  I could get a refund and end my trip early, or I could continue onward with a new guide along with a thousand dollar refund. 

  I took some time to think it over.  If I left, it would be unlikely that I would ever return to Mongolia.  I had come all this way and there was still much that I wanted to see and experience.  The owner seemed genuinely concerned and distraught with what happened.  I chose the second option.

  It was an awkward flight back to Ulaanbaatar. Dorj and I said our goodbyes and went our separate ways.  At the hotel I asked the front desk for a room on the lowest floor.  My new room was much less terrifying.

                   

                                       

  Next morning's flight was originally scheduled for 3:20 AM, but was delayed an hour.  We left around 3:00AM from the hotel.  I briefly met my new guide, Nasaa.  We passed a drunk driving checkpoint, where a policeman was holding out a breathalyzer for each passing car to blow into.

  My new guide informed me that he had to make a brief stop.  We stopped by a gate, with a sign for "KGB."  I gave a look at our location on Google Maps. "KGB Commerce Company" was what I found at our location.  My guide started banging on the gate.  At first there was no response, but after a few minutes, someone appeared wit ha package.  It was slightly unnerving to stop at a place with the letters  KGB in a former Soviet state.  Later in the trip, I spoke to Nasaa about this.  He now works at the KGB Commerce company.  He used to work full time for the tour company, but only takes side jobs now.  He was originally asked to do my entire tour, but he had promised his girlfriend that he would stay with her for the Naadam holiday week.  After my incident, he got an urgent call from them.  Since Naadam was over, he agreed.  He had lost his bank card, and had had it overnighted to his work place.

  We arrived at the airport, checked our bags, and then heard an announcement that our plane was delayed another hour.  Once we we boarded, we sat directly opposite two seats, an arrangement I had never encountered before.  Half the flight was empty, so no one ever sat there.

  We landed to unusual summertime weather for the Gobi Desert.  It was fifty five degrees and rainy.  Our camp was about forty minutes from the airport.  I had built in an extra day of rest my stay in the Gobi, so it wasn't an issue.

  We ate breakfast at the camp and then took a long nap.  After lunch, we hung out in the dining room.  There were four older Japanese gentlemen also spending time here to avoid the rain.  They were well into a bottle of Jack Daniels, and so were extremely friendly.  They asked me where I was from and then invited me to sit down.  They only spoke a few English words, and I tried my best to speak some Japanese.  Eventually, they began speaking to their Mongolian translator, which then spoke to my translator, which would then translate it to English.  The men offered me a drink, and I explained that I did not drink.  Nasaa responded by asking, "If you don't smoke, and you don't drink, what do you do?"

  One of the men was wearing a Snoopy sweatshirt, so I took this as an opportunity to ask about the Japanese fascination with Snoopy.  First, he pointed out this this was his friend's sweatshirt, and that he hadn't packed well for the cold weather.  He mentioned Betty Boop Mickey Mouse, and Daffy.  I interpreted this to mean that Japan's initial exposure to these characters cemented their influence.

  There was a singular sheep at the camp, cared for by a young girl.  The guide explained that the sheep was found separated from its flock the camp adopted it.  The Japanese men were very fond of the sheep.  At one point, one of the men fell asleep in his chair, and another woke him up by carrying over the sheep and placing it on his lap.

  The evening ended with a young man playing the horse hair fiddle.  I believe he was a camp worker learning how to play.  The tourists provided an audience.

  The next morning Nasaa asked me if I had encountered any small bugs in my room.  He suggested that I plugged my ears on future nights so that they would not crawl inside during the night.  We drove a short distance to the Yolyn Am Canyon, for a brief hike.  

                                           

Nasaa explained that this referred to the Soviet Union.  A Google search showed that the CCCP is a Russian abbreviation for the Soviet Union.

A coffee shop just outside Yolyn.

  We stopped for lunch and visited a convenience store.  I saw kiwi flavored ice cream that I just had to try.  I didn't really taste anything resembling kiwi until the very bottom, where the syrup was heaviest.

A truck at a nearby gas station, Soviet style.

  We had a four hour drive ahead of us.  Partway through, the driver pulled over and grabbed a roll of toilet paper out of the glove compartment.  I spotted a lizard.

  I asked to stop for photos a handful of times, including once for a herd of wandering camels.

  At one point, the driver spotted gazelles, and took off towards them.  I scrambled to change camera settings.  I did not get it all right.  Nonetheless, it was an exciting off off road experience.  That night Nasaa and I played ping pong.

  Our camp was located just twenty minutes away from the Khongoriin Els sand dunes.  The next morning we left for the dunes, stopping at local camel herders.  I was interested to see if this was authentic like the Tsaatan or if it skewed touristy.  While it might have been an authentic lifestyle once, it was now a tourist trap.  I noticed their knockoff brand Samsung tv in the ger.  We took a short camel ride to the dunes.  After dismounting, I spent time on the ground petting and wrapping my arms around my camel.  Camels are wonderful.

  From a distance, and even as I walked up to it, the tall dune did not look like it would be a difficult climb.  I was wrong.  Nasaa suggested taking off our shoes, so we walked in our socks.

  The first third of the climb was easy.  From there it went nearly straight up.  I struggled tremendously.  I slowed down to ten steps at a time, mostly on all fours, stopping for very frequent breaks.  The breaks became longer, the crawls became shorter.  The heat of the sand was painful on my hands.   The pictures don't do justice to the height or how steep it looked.  From the top, you could hear vibrationsfor which these dunes were nicknamed "Singing Sands." 

  On the neighboring dune, a group of young Koreans had ascended with sleds.  I took a video of the sledding attempt.

Drivers of the Korean tour groups.

  People often visit the dunes for sunset viewing.  There was no way that I was going to repeat this climb again later in the day.  Nasaa offered me the alternative of smaller dunes near an oasis for sunset.  

  Back at the camp, I decided to go for a walk just outside.  I came upon a group of camels.  They were huddled together and looking straight at me.  They almost looked fake.  I walked toward them while trying to appear disinterested.

                                       

  When I was close enough that I might spook them if I came any closer, I sat down.  One was making squeak noises that I had never heard a camel make before.  After maybe twenty minutes, they decided to walk away.  I watched them walk away for a while before I stood up and returned to the camp.

                                           

                                           

  The oasis was aso very different from the rest of the Gobi Desert.  Although I knew about the concept of oases in the desert, it was still shocking to see in real life.  The climb was easy.  We stayed for quite some time before packing it in and leaving for camp.  There was a mild sandstorm as we drove, and the winds howled all night.