If you have been following my blog you probably realize that I talk less and less about my day to day life and focus more on the cultural differences between that of Mongolia and America. To be honest the daily events of my life can be fairly monotonous and uneventful, I would hate to bore my readers with this!
This past weekend, I went on a short road trip, with several other volunteers to attend the annual “ice festival”. I also attended this last year, as it takes place in the Province that I reside in. Anyways, as I’m sure I mentioned around this time last year “ice fest” is literally an ice festival. It takes place every year at Lake Hatgal, and includes ice sculptures and events that take place on the ice such as; ice fishing, ice sumo, ice tug-o-war, etc… I think you get the point, as I don’t want to get to far off topic.
I have made the trip from Murun (where I live) to Hatgal (where the ice festival is) several times, as they lie only 90 km from each other, however traveling those 90 km can take up to 4 hours by car (longer depending on how many flat tires you get). It was on this most recent occasion that I started thinking about the vast differences between road trips in Mongolia and road trips in America. Probably because of the environment I was in; a car full of PCV’s, with good conversation, laughing, and yes, maybe a beer or two was involved. Which I would soon come to realize was the only similarity between road trips in Mongolia and America, the fact that I was traveling with friends. Think about your last road trip. Whatever the reason, business or pleasure, there are always certain aspects of American road trips that can be counted on. Aspects that immediately come to mind include fast food, gas station coffee/stopping for the bathroom, music, traffic, and the famous “are we there yet”. When did you ever have a road trip that didn’t include one of the above mentioned? As we will soon discover, there are similarities (if you have an imagination) and differences that I observed.
First off, you have to be aware of our traveling circumstances. I was traveling with seven other volunteers, eight including myself, and nine if you include the driver. The transportation practices in Mongolia will most definitely appear unorthodox to the callow or green horned traveler. So when we finally found a driver was would accommodate our needs, we piled into a van made for five with 9. Keep in mind that we still considered ourselves to be traveling in “luxury”, we had our own car, and plenty of room to spare, not to mention that sitting on your friends lap is far less awkward than sitting on the lap of a sixty year old, inebriated, Mongolian man who insists to kiss you on the forehead every ten minutes, and incessantly refers to you as his son. Okay, I think that it’s apparent that during my time here my standards for travel have lowered, if not completely flat lined. Traveling from one town to another in Mongolia can furnish the traveler with both a freakish and engrossing experience, providing new sights, sounds, and yes even smells. Meadows and valleys stretch on forever, the middle of which serves as the road, and drivers and herders use riverbanks and electrical lines as “mile markers” alike. Unlike traveling in American where you’re constantly surrounded by development (whether it be god or bad, its everywhere), chain stores and restaurants, malls, movie theatres, places where consumer whores go to get their daily fix of the latest and greatest ten dollar espresso drink, or to enjoy the latest multi-million dollar film. All these aspects of development are nowhere to been seen while traveling through the Mongolian countryside. Instead of your senses being numbed by the above mentioned they are stimulated by the obvious vastness of the countryside, there are chain stores/restaurants, malls, or movie theatres distracting your mind. You can travel for literally hours before you’ll come upon a group of two or three gers. There is no stopping for crappy gas station coffee or junk food, however there is stopping for stretching and for one to relieve themselves (which takes place within close proximity to the car, there are no outhouses in the middle of nowhere). Loading back into the car is a whole other ordeal, which always leads to arguing who has to sit where, everyone hoping that they don’t get stuck with the with the seat that really isn’t a seat at all, but someone’s duffel bag that has been placed in the empty spot between two seats. Finally you figure it out and you’re back on the “road”. One of my favorite aspects, and one I find most necessary, of a road trip is music. The music situations here never fails to entertain me and eventually, depending on how many hours I’m in the car for, will lead me to insanity. You can always count on the driver having at least one tape, sometimes two, and it would be a miracle it there were three. These tapes will be played over…and over again, throughout the duration of your journey, I guess its better than no music at all. But really I can only listen to “Mothers Boiled Tea” so many times.
I can guarantee that you’ll never have the same experience twice while “road tripping” in Mongolia, I have grown to accept this, and now find it exciting to discover what awaits me during my next journey. Whether it be, an intoxicated man, a caring Mongolian Emee (grandma), several sheep/goat carcasses, or the infamous flat tire. I’m guaranteed to never whiteness the same thing twice, and this allows my 10+ hour car rides tolerable.
If you’re at all curious, my friends and I, had a safe trip two and from the ice fest. We also fully enjoyed all that “ice fest” had to offer. In all honesty it was one of the more uneventful car rides I’ve had. I can only imagine how I’ll feel about road trips in America; something tells me that relieving yourself on the side of the road is frowned upon.
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