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Mongolia
MONGOLIA. THE VERY WORD CONJURES A LANDSCAPE THAT IS BLEAK and forbidding—the epitome of desolation. Yet, this “last frontier” is steeped in ritual and tradition and surrounded by stark, natural beauty. Come to race a pony (or yak or camel) across a grassland speckled with wildflowers, to meditate in hidden Tibetan Lamaist temples, to flirt with 300-pound wrestlers clad only in boots, briefs, and sleeves. Come to bask in the legacy of Genghis Khan, who created history’s largest empire by inspiring his warriors to “live by the sword instead of the plow” in the twelfth century, and of Mandhai-Setsen, the Wise Queen who re-unified her turbulent nation by leading her troops into battle in the fifteenth century. Whatever the reason, come.
Roughly one-third of Mongolians live in capital Ulan Bator—or UB, as expats call it—which is fast becoming a cosmopolitan city. Amidst the oppressive, Soviet-style apartment blocks are raucous nightclubs, coffee houses, Indian restaurants, and hipsters who sell calls from their cell phones for a few tugrik apiece. Ulan Bator’s is arts scene is also growing. Visit the Union of Mongolian Artists Art Gallery on the second floor of the Arts Center at 1 Chinggis Avenue, and have tea with the artists afterward in the café of the Art Club next door. Then drop by the Choijin Lama Museum on the first floor of the Marco Polo Plaza, the Red Ger Gallery on Barilagchdiinn Talbai, and the Bartsch Gallery in Misheel Center in the Khan Uul district. However much you might love Ulan Bator, though, limit your stay, as the heart of this nation beats in the countryside. Find a good guide at a travel agency (or better yet, through an expat); stock up on food, supplies, and gifts for host families; and pray for a safe journey in Mongolia’s holy center, the Gandantegchinlen Monastery (the sole Lamaist Buddhist temple to survive the Communist purges). Then venture off into the steppe.
There are few roads in Mongolia and most vehicles are Soviet, so wear a good sports bra (or two). Occasionally, you’ll pass by an ovoo, or collection of stones piled high in deference to gods worshipped eons before Tibetan Buddhism. Join your driver in solemnly circling the stones three times in a clock-wise direction and toss a new pebble in for good luck. Then drive on…and on…and on. At last you’ll come upon a small community, where your host family awaits. Most Mongolians live in gers, round, wooden-framed felt tents covered in heavy white canvas that can be disassembled in half an hour and transported on an ox cart: perfect for the nomad-on-the-go. Ger etiquette should be carefully heeded: make a bit of noise before entering; step over the threshold with your right foot; move throughout the space in a clockwise fashion if you’re female (counterclockwise if you’re not); and above all—cheerfully ingest whatever the host offers, usually a small bowl of vodka (if you’re lucky) or a potent brew of fermented mare’s milk called airag (if you’re not). Drink every drop and then hold the bowl upside down over your head to prove it. In the summertime, you might be offered fresh yogurt instead. Lick it clean with your tongue.
And then the fun begins! Mongolians are a horse-centric culture; many children learn to ride before they can walk. Your hosts, or guide, will take you out for a memorable ride through Sherwood-like forests, Ghobi desert, or tundra, depending on the area. If possible, plan a trip to Lake Hovsgal, one of the deepest freshwater lakes on Earth. While too frigid for swimming (unless you’re Russian), the lake is surrounded by gorgeous peaks and tundra and home to bears, moose, and ibex.
The best month to visit Mongolia is July—not just for the sunny weather, but for Naadam, a three-day, Olympic-style festival celebrated in every corner of the nation. In archery, women fire twenty arrows made of willow branches and vulture feathers from a distance of sixty meters and men shoot forty arrows from seventy-five meters, while judges stand on either side of the target, singing old folk songs. In horseracing, 600 horses gallop across the steppe with jockeys as young as five years old. Winners are baptized in mare’s milk and honored with songs. And then there is wrestling, which is said to date back thousands of years. Hulky men clutch each other for hours (and hours) until their strength wears out and they knock each other over. Winners go on to become major public figures, such as ambassadors to countries like France. Ulan Bator hosts the biggest Naadam, but to avoid the tourists, stay out in the steppe. You just might be pulled out of the crowd to help congratulate the winners.