Wild Horses

Last weekend I visited Hustai National Park, where the tahki horses live. The tahki are genetically distinct from modern horses, apparently having wandered off on a different evolutionary path in prehistoric times (sort of like the Neanderthals of the horse world). Some years ago a foreign wildlife biologist working in Mongolia recognized their uniqueness and warned that they were being hunted to extinction. Once everyone realized what they were, an effort was started to preserve them, and eventually the park was created and populated.

When we arrived, we were thrilled to see that no other tourists had thought to come in the off season. (The only other people at the ger camp were Mongolian wildlife biologists studying the parks’ animals). We immediately set out hiking in hopes of sighting some horses, although with only about 130 in the whole park I wasn’t too optimistic. These photos give an idea of the terrain. We didn’t find horses that day, although we did see a group of about 20 Manchurian red deer run up and over a saddle right in front of us.

The next morning, acting on a tip from one of the wildlife biologists, we headed out on foot to a valley about 10K from our camp. And there they were, right by the road. They didn’t spook or even seem very concerned by our proximity. Apparently, they’ve gotten used to the hordes of tourists ogling them. So despite the fact that they weren’t exactly acting like wild animals, it was fun to watch them carrying on with their normal horsy activities. We couldn’t have asked for a better show.

Steppe Inn

When I first came to UB I didn't know anyone and wanted to meet people. I was advised that I should get an invitation to the Steppe Inn on Friday night. I had no idea what it was, but I asked Brigitta and she put me down as her guest. So what is the Steppe Inn anyway? Well, like many institutions in UB, it's a little hard to explain. It's a bar, but it's only open from 6:30-9 pm on Friday. It's connected to the British Embassy, but you don't have to be British to join. It doesn't have bartenders, so the people who serve the drinks actually have day jobs at the embassy (including, on occasion, the Ambassador himself). Here Chablis shows off her bartending prowess. I bet when she accepted this job she didn't imagine her duties would include serving drinks every Friday night.

Anyhow, I've found myself returning to the Steppe almost every Friday since that first time. I even got my own official membership card. The good humor and hospitality of the embassy folks, and knowing I'll run into various friends and acquaintances, create a nice reason to end the week there. If I need more justification for hanging out at a bar every Friday night, I remind myself that all proceeds go to local children's charities. If I need still more justification, I remind myself that just as I'm sure to see people I know, I'm sure to meet some eccentric or interesting new people. So for example, last Friday I met Birgit and Martin, who have been bicycling through Asia and came across Mongolia this winter. They have the frostbite to prove it, too, although luckily they didn't show me any of it.

Last week, since it was Saint Patrick's Day, the staff were serving up green beer, green vodka jello shots, and meat pies. Some of the patrons had come dressed for the occasion, too. Seeing all this green stuff, the Mongolians in attendance looked politely puzzled. I tried to explain about St. Patrick and the snakes and the green beer, but I'm afraid I muddled it. I'll admit that I secretly enjoyed seeing the Mongolians being confused about our traditions instead of me always being confused about theirs. For the first time in five months, I understood something that they didn't!