Kharkhorin, Mongolia

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I was assigned to a seat next to a taped-up 100%-shattered window.  Since I do not feel comfortable sitting in front of such an imminent danger, I swapped with the girl next to me. That also means I won’t be able to see the endless rolling Mongolian steppes occasionally dotted with gers (a Mongolian-style residence in big round tent)

After 6 hours of paved roads, I arrived to Kharkhorin that afternoon.  After getting myself oriented, I found Morin Jim – a popular foreigners hangout – a great place to have some lunch and snacks while talking to some French about their trips. It wasn’t long I got phone call from Joe, he got stuck in Tserleg since his driver had a hard time to fill his mikro (small bus that transport people long distances).  There was one French guy who appeared to have lived here for a long time and told me quite a few things about Mongolia.   Apparently he also helped a couple other French buying their horses for their horse trekk around the area. After dinner some French from the restaurant showed me the post office, apparently that’s where you could usually find internet in Mongolia.

Joe finally arrived around 9pm that night.  The mikro driver gave us a lift to where most of the tourist ger camps gathered… we walked around several ger camps and finally negotiated one with three comfy beds inside a  nicely decorated ger with a stove in the center.  As soon as we settled our things, the owner came with his firewoods.  “They will always provide enough woods when you just settled in.”  Joe pointed out.  Then the owner proceeded to start the fire.

Unfortunately the fire didn’t stay long, and Joe had to start one on his own with small shaves of woods.  “Get yourself a lighter,” he said, “it will come by very handy.  Especially the Mongolian ones has a flashlight on the other end.”  Then he showed me his cigarett lighter.

That was the night I learned how to light a fire on my own along with tons of other interesting survival skills from Joe.

I got a good night of sleep and woke up super early the next morning for my shower appointment (you have to tell the hostess when will you shower and they will prepare hot water to supply the water tank above the shower head).   Unfortunately it was pouring outside that day and my feet got soaked on my way back from the shower to my ger tent.  As I left the wet socks on the stove to let them dry, Joe woke up.  “I missed the toaster,” I resigned in disappointment, “I don’t like eating bread, let alone an un-toasted one.”

“Oh but you could toast those on the stove. OH NO!”  Joe screamed when he saw my socks rested upon the stove.  He jumped off the bed, shot out to the stove, picked up the socks, by then the other sides of those white socks had already burned to black with smokes streaming out from their intense heat. He quickly carried those socks outside, “at least that proved my point you could toast your bread on the stove.”


From Harhorin, Mongolia, posted by Jenny Zheng on 10/21/2011 (105 items)

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