Today we got a slightly later start. In general we have
settled into a rather nice routine, where I get up first and take a shower,
then John wakes up and showers while I work on this blog, and finally Zoe wakes
up around 7 am, normally because her dad or I come stomping in the room and
wake her up. Well, today it didn’t quite work like that because the shower
house was locked, so I worked on my blog waiting for someone from the
guesthouse to wake up, and then laid back in the ger waiting for action.
Finally, at around 7:20 am the ladies started milling around, and I was able to
go for my shower. The guesthouse is in the middle of being expanded, so for the
time being you have to get out of the complex to get to the door of the shower
complex. Because this door gives to the outside it is normally kept locked.
Anyway, one of the ladies grabbed the keys and kindly let me in. I luxuriated
in a warm shower and at about 7:40 came out ready to head for the ger. To my
surprise I found the door of the shower house locked again. Rats! No doubt the
lady felt she couldn’t leave the door unattended and had locked, probably
planning on coming back in a few minutes to let me out. So I waited . . . and
waited . . . and waited, but to no avail. Finally I spotted a window I could
open, but it was a good 5 feet off the ground, and not very big. Still, big
problems require desperate solutions, so I pulled a chair nearby, and working
like a contortionist wiggled myself out of the little window. Pity nobody was
there to witness my fine exhibition. When I finally stomped back to the ger Zoe
woke up with a smile, pleasantly surprised of having had the chance of sleeping
an extra hour.
Our travels took us north of Karakorum , because we were intent on visiting
the small Ögii Nuur lake. John is an enthusiast fly fisherman, and like all
enthusiasts he wanted to have bragging rights at having fished in Mongolia . The
official fishing season doesn’t start for another week, but Zoe had been
referred by a fellow teacher to an alumnus who was currently Fishing Inspector
in this lake who was sure to allow a special exemption for John. Unfortunately
the paved road ended after 20 km, so we had the first of our dirt road driving
experiences. The road was actually not that bad, so we did reasonably good
time, and by noon were saying hello to a smiling young Fishing Inspector, who
at that very moment was busy erecting a ger. In another of her amazing displays
of command of the Mongolian language Zoe joked with him for a while and
expressed our interest in fishing. “No problem” said he with a big smile, and
he pointed us to a nice spit that extended like a finger of land into the lake.
The Ögii Nuur lake is very beautiful, but serves as home to
gazillions of flies and gnats, and all of them came to say hello as we
approached the shore. Fortunately none of them are aggressive, so after a
moment of panic we settled into a continuous swatting motion and walked down
the spit. Aha, this is why we had been directed here: The flies and gnats do
not like being on the spit, so after a while we were able to relax. John
enjoyed a good hour of fishing (he did catch one fish), and Zoe and I sat down
on the gravel to watch the birds and chat. After a while the sky started
getting cloudy, and the breeze picked up, so the spot became idyllic. Mind you,
there are still no trees on sight, but the breeze and the coolness made it feel
like we were on a High Sierra lake.
From there we continued on the dirt track until we reached
the town of Ögii Nuur
proper, where we stopped for lunch. No sooner had we sat down that one of the
ladies excitedly told us that we had to meet her friend Emma, who was a Peace
Corps volunteer down in town. Emma arrived 10 minutes later, and she and Zoe
established immediate rapport. She had been in this little town for 8 months
now, and was looking forward to being one of the leaders of the summer camp,
and to her second year teaching English in the integrated K-12 school. Ögii
Nuur is the biggest town near the lake, and many of the 500 children at the
school come from distant shepherds camps and board at the school for the year,
so the school actually provides a myriad of good services to the region. Zoe
and Emma knew a lot of the same people, and happily chatted about their
international experiences in general, and Mongolian experience in particular. I
was reminded that, following the sabbatical cycles of her parents, had lived in
Chile for six months while in first grade (she speaks amazing Spanish), France
and Switzerland for middle schools (so she speaks fluent French and German),
and the Czech Republic for high school (so she also speaks Czech), and now can
add Mongolian to her repertoire! Is it any wonder that we are all so proud of
her!
Emma was amazed that we were taking this trip on our own,
without a guide. It is simply not done here in Mongolia . Zoe had heard the same
admonition, partly because of the language barrier, and partly because once you
leave the paved road there is a maze of dirt roads leading to shepherders’
encampments and it is really difficult to navigate your way through. Still, she
described for us the road to Tsetserleg and even walked us to the edge of town
to point the correct track (and I have to acknowledge that it looked just like
any other of the dozen tracks in sight). In a land without trees there are not
many landmarks to navigate by, but she did mentioned some wheat fields
somewhere along the lane. Ah, but she didn’t take into account John’s amazing
navigation skills; he had bought a rather detailed road atlas, with the
mountains shaded in, and based on this he took us through the first half of the
trek (making a couple of corrections to the atlas as we went along), and Zoe
followed on his footsteps with unerring instinct until we it the paved road.
As we were moving west on the paved road we spotted a line
of trees in the distance! It was the Zuun Modny river, at the banks of which
was the charming town of Tsenher .
We were tempted to stay there for the night, but at the end decided to push
into Tsetserleg, which is the provincial capital, also along the banks Zuun
Modny river. It is quite the attractive city, with trees and parks, nestled
against the granite mountains to the north. Coming from the steppe you really
feel like you have reached a new world, not unlike the feeling you get when
leaving the Argentinian pampa and reaching Bariloche in the foothills of the Andes . I definitely could live here!
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