Flooding and lightning storms

The weather here in UB is far from predictable. Recently, however, it's become surreal and dangerous. Last friday, on the way home from Geoff booking his flight back to Nanaimo, we got caught for fourty minutes in a downpour/hailstorm. The taxi driver simply pulled over and refused to drive, using sign language to say that traffic was at a standstill and accidents were bound to happen. Tragically, in the floods that happened as a consequence 24 people died.

The rains from yesterday were more bizarre than dangerous. The day started out clear and became searingly hot after lunch. But this being UB, this wasn't meant to last and rumbling, ominous clouds rolled in from the west. The strange thing is, they just kept rumbling and rolling in. It got progressively darker and the thunder overhead became a continuous, background roar. I decided to make a break for home because it still wasn't raining as I didn't want to get caught out, and outside the clouds overhead were pulsing with lightning flashes from deep within. Of course, the rain couldn't hold off for much longer and halfway home it unleashed. Then turned to hail. Erica got a nice picture of me making the final dash for the apartment, although I haven't seen it.

Manshir Kiid

There is a slight, really an insignificant, possibility that Geoff and I may be deported from Mongolia.

It started out innocently enough, we set off on an impromptu trek from Manshiir Kiid (a Buddhist temple south of here) over some mountains and back into UB. The Lonely Planet recommends seven hours for such a journey so being the seasoned, intelligent trekkers we are, we started at one in the afternoon. And brought headlamps. The temple was impressive and beautiful, with meditation chambers set into the cliff face behind and the shattered ruins of the previous monastary (wrecked during the Soviet purges) in front. We followed the LP's intructions faithfully and soon found ourselves deep in the forest, clean air and that wonderful Mongolian silence, broken only by the sound of the wind moving through the trees. The incline was gentle, the underbrush almost nonexistant, the trail completely unmarked.

We came to a giant boulder ridge and Geoff insisted on climbing (as in, actual rock climbing) one of the higher points. Only once we were at the top did I tell him that I wasn't really a rock climber. Still, I managed to scale down in reverse without incident. I'm sure Geoff will tell you it wasn't a really challenging climb at all. After this, and another hour or so crossing a boggyplateau we came to Tsesee Gun, a shaman/buddhist holy peak which also offered an incredible view of Ulaan Bataar very, very far off in the distance. It was four o'clock.

So we set off for the very distant capital. It was rough going as we headed down into a scree valley of boulder proportions. We literally had to leap from rock to rock for many hours, and as the sun began to ominously touch the edge of the ridge above us, we finally, exhausted, came to a barbed wire fence. Beyond the fence was a sign very clearly marked 'Prohibited Area'. It was late, we knew we were close to UB at this point but couldn't see it, and we knew UB was just beyond the fence. It never even occurred to us not to go through.

After cutting across a suddenly thick tangle of wild rasperries we came upon another boulder field and started to jump our way across. We could see, finally see, UB very close now and below us in the valley was a strange little arrangement of buildings. At first we thought it was a dam, which made perfect sense to our exhausted minds. But as we got closer we saw it was some sort of compound, complete with some strange jungle-gym appartatus in the forest behind the farthest building. We were high up the western side now, trying to inconspicuously work our way across the (now treeless) slope, but also intensely examining the compound below. A military complex occurred to both of us, but the buildings were too new, there were no military vehicles anywhere. It was still the best guess (sure beats a university, Geoff).

The compound had a coal power plant, complete with tall stack and a pile of coal outside. This was in spite of the power lines we could see running parallel to the road on the far side of the valley. There was also a bizarre oval in the middle of the valley, which after some intense speculation we realized was a hockey rink, which iced over in the winter. In spite of our burning curiosity neither of us dared to take any pictures, because honestly, we had no idea where we were and if we got caught we didn't want to be accused of being spies. Beyond the next ridge we discovered there was also a road on our side of the valley, so after some consideration we dropped down and it was an absolute, fantastic pleasure just to be able to walk on level ground once again. On the way down we passed a fenced area that looked suspiciously like a bunker.

Here's where things get a little weird. As we walked along the road we noticed a car driving along the road on the far side, and we were so absorbed in watching it -"Do you think he saw us?" "I don't know, just keep walking and look innocent"- that when the big grey soviet minivan with the little red siren came around the corner we never had a chance. The van didn't even slow down, however. I waved and got a smile. Why not? We noticed that in the broad field between the two roads there were tall poles, each with a pair of CCTV cameras that were trained on... the field. And then I really began to feel like I'd stumbled into an episode of Lost when we came across a set of highly varnished, ornate wooden stairs in the middle of nowhere, leading from the road down to the field. Then another bunker. Then another coal plant.

Finally, we could see at the end of the road two massive, beautiful buildings. The back of the nearest building looked like there had just been a large garden party, and there were a handful of people milling about helping to take down the tents. After a muttered, tired debate on whether to stay on the road or cut up across the hillside, we decided honesty was the best policy and did our best to look like the two bumbling, idiot tourists we were and just stay on the road.

I thought we almost made it. I really did. But then Geoff grabbed my sleeve and I turned to see a very severe looking military man with an AK47 and an officer motioning from a nearby tent for us to come over. And I offered him the Lonely Planet and showed him how we'd come Manshir Kiid. This seemed to placate the officer a little, although when I tried to take my book back he wouldn't let me (I let him keep it for the time being). We showed him our driver's liscenses and then the fellow with the AK47 motioned for us to go with him. His black, badass boots clicked when he walked and I was dying, really dying, to ask him to pose for a picture but we still had no clue what was going on so I didn't.

We ended up at a guardhouse with a really friendly German Shepard that greeted us by barking like it wanted to tear us to pieces, even though I'm sure it just wanted to play. The extremely serious fellow there took our names, our address, I had to give him the business card of one of my contacts at work (I'll have some explaining to do tomorrow) and he made us wait at the gate while they decided what to do with us. Geoff prevented me from trying to befriend the German Shepard. After twenty anxious minutes the guard came out and let us go.

We hitched a ride right in front of the compound, and when I found out the driver spoke english I asked him who lived there.

"The President," he told me.