Solid Waste Services

The garbage disposal system where I live is efficient. Everyone in the building piles their garbage up against the fence in the back alley to create what I call the “garbage ovoo” (see photo). We toss everything on there-- food scraps, cans, bottles, household appliances, clothes, and anything else we don’t need or want.

As soon as a bag goes out in the alley, the first level of processing begins. This task is performed by the homeless and poor people who regularly pass by to take the bottles and cans (to sell), and the fresher foodstuffs (to eat). Some of these scavengers specialize, for example, in plastic bottles; while others take anything that can be sold, used, or eaten.

The second level of processing is performed by the dogs. They eat the more rotten foodstuffs, and carry away the meat bones. A mother and three puppies living in the hasha (yard) of a ger in our alley perform this service for us. The dogs were away when I took this photo, but you can see the hasha and the ger. They seem to be quite healthy and energetic as a result of the food they find there.

The third level of processing is performed by the birds. They come in after the dogs and clean up any small scraps or crumbs that have been overlooked.

An extra level of processing is available from the homeless people who shelter in nearby heating/sewage tunnels. I save up my unwanted but nicer items until I see that one of the manhole covers has been removed. Then I gather up these items into a little bag and leave it near the open manhole in the evening. By the next morning the bag is gone.

The beauty of this system is that by the time the garbage truck comes around (which it does at intervals that seem random to me but are well understood by my Mongolian neighbors), there is very little left that isn’t truly garbage. So I never have to remember to put my trash can out on a certain day (heck, I don’t even own a trash can). I never have to separate my garbage from my recycling. And I never feel guilty about throwing something away, because everything in the garbage ovoo is put to good use.

Tsetseegun Uul

The four peaks surrounding UB are considered holy, but not in a way that requires people to keep their distance. It is perfectly okay to climb them, and in fact, each is decorated with an elaborate ovoo at its summit. Having explored one of the four peaks (Bayanzurkh) last fall, I was anxious to see the others. So I convinced a group of hikers to that we should try Tsetseegun next. A little over 2200 meters high, it is located about 50 K south of UB.

The outing began with confusion. I was late because I thought we were leaving at 10:30 instead of 9:30, Niel had to go home to get her boots, and so on. Mongolians are great believers in signs and omens for journeys, so I spent the 45 minute drive to Zuunmod trying to convince myself that there was nothing inauspicious about this start.

Passing through Zuunmod, we continued on to Manzushir Khiid, a monastery originally established in 1733 but reduced to rubble during the Stalinist purges of the 1930s. Only a small part of the original foundation remains, but the main temple has been reconstructed and can be visited. The ruins sit at the top of a gentle slope overlooking a pretty valley with a stream running through pine and birch trees. Downslope from the main temple sits a giant bronze cauldron from 1726 that could boil up 10 sheep at a time for the monks’ meals.

After donning boots and backpacks, we commenced the usual negotiations as to route. There was general consensus that the trail was off to the right, but we couldn’t agree on the exact direction. (In the middle of the negotiations, I made everyone stand together and smile for this photo.)

Consensus on route having eluded us, everyone just started off on several different tangents at once. As the group started to fan out, each person tried to convince the others that they were on the wrong track: “Niel, you’re too far to the left, as usual!” and “You’re going the wrong way; don’t you remember from the last time?” and “I’m not following you—that’s the long way around.” As people started to range out of earshot, I wondered: Is this hike doomed? I sent a silent little prayer up the hill towards the temple hoping that I would return to tour it later that day.

Finally, someone spotted a yellow blaze on a tree. And then there was a second. Soon, we were all together on the same route. And, unbelievably, the trail was well marked with yellow blazes all the way to the summit. Here we are, taking a rest along the way.

And so we hiked to the top of Tsetseegun on a warm, sunny day with no mishaps, wrong turns, or further disharmony. At the summit, we admired the ovoo that had recently been decorated in honor of Tsagaan Sar.

Richard opened a bottle of champagne that we shared over lunch.


On the return, I ran down ahead of the others and arrived with enough time to rouse the caretaker and tour the monastery. A perfect day after all.