For the second half of our three weeks in Mongolia, we decided to base ourselves in Central Mongolia. Out of a town called Tsetserleg (pronounced “Tsetserlay”).
We did so because we were very quickly and easily persuaded to do so by a guy named Joe. Because Joe seemed like he really knew what he was talking about.
A quickish plug for Joe: he is an English guy that has been living in Mongolia for the past three years. He has done all sorts of amazing things: bicycled from Singapore to England, climbed Kilimanjaro twenty two times in two years, started a cidery in Budapest, started a charity in Ulan Batar. To name only a few things. He is unquestionably a better person than all of us. Currently he is making a documentary about Mongolia called Back to the Roots. I urge you to go like his page for him.
The first half of our time in Mongolia was spent on a tour of the Gobi Desert. After that we were very torn about what to do. Mongolia is MASSIVE with many places to go. We eventually made the difficult decision to go to the (very far and expensive to get to) Altai region in the West. But then that fell through.
So we asked for Joe’s advice. And this is what he said:
“Most people come to Mongolia for two or three weeks. They go to the Gobi desert, then they either go to western Mongolia, or they go to Khovsgol lake in the north.
“And for some reason very few people go to Central Mongolia. Which is WAY closer than those other places, and WAY more representative of what Mongolia is actually like. That is, a beautiful mix of lushness, rivers, mountains, and steppe.”
Joe really looked like he knew what he was talking about. We were immediately sold.
How Apple is Ruining the Developing World
Ok. It’s not just Apple. Its the entire corporate world. Actually it is the marketing departments for the corporate world. Apple was just the clear culprit in this scenario.
I’m not talking about the usual, a western person feels guilty because some unknown person in some far off land is being paid far less than him to assemble some piece of clothing or electronics that he didn’t need to buy in the first place.
That’s so fifteen years ago. And actually in the end, in my opinion and experience, paying people locally fair wages in developing countries to do work for the West leans slightly more on the positive side than the negative side.
But that’s not at all the point I want to make here. My point is this:
Your average, well educated, English speaking Mongolian (one that likely works in an office tower in Ulan Batar) makes somewhere around three hundred (US) dollars per month. From there it’s possible to go up, but the average is far more than likely to go down.
Guess what an iPhone 6 costs over here…
Around one thousand (US) dollars. If I’m not mistaken that’s about the same as what one costs back at home? (I don’t actually know though – I’m still pounding away on my antiquated iPhone 4)
Now guess how many people here have iPhones…
…I actually have no idea the exact answer to that either. But I can tell you it is a LOT. People all over Ulan Batar have them. On this absolutely obnoxious bus I am sitting on that is taking us out to the country side, the nomadic-looking lady beside me is letting her kid play games on her iPhone. Apparently people in the countryside have them too.
Think about the absurdity of all that for a minute.
If the average well-to-do iPhone-wielding Mongolian works hard at their job for three and a half months, and does not spend a single cent… They will have saved up enough to buy that iPhone.
Of course as we all know that’s not possible to do. If they tried really hard perhaps they could pack away fifty percent of earnings. And the golden device would be theirs in seven months.
Just in time to have the thing for a good few months before the planned-obsolescence wave comes crashing down. The start of your device becoming more and more laughable to your cooler friends by the day.
Don’t get me wrong. Communication and information is (in many ways) a good thing. And if made use of properly, it has the potential to turn a developing country around.
The sad thing is, it is totally possible in Mongolia to instead go out and buy an Android for around a hundred bucks. With all the same developing-country-benefits as that shiny iPhone.
Why do they do it? Quite simply, because Mongolians are people. Just like us. And many people are easily swayed by swanky marketing campaigns. And many people are easily swayed by the Jones’ they hang out with who were swayed by the campaigns.
And the end result is a crazy catch twenty two. One where people don’t have the money to spend on things that could really help them get ahead. Like more education. Or starting a business.
Because they’ve spent all their money on something that makes them look and feel like they’re ahead.
Even though they aren’t.
Trip Update: Central Mongolia
We arrived at the bus station in Ulan Batar a bit late. Around twenty minutes before 8:00am, the scheduled departure time for the bus to Tsetserleg, the capital of Central Mongolia. And unfortunately the bus was already full.
Unhappy about the idea of waiting six hours for the next bus, we gave our man Anand a call, back at the Zaya hostel. He sent his driver back to the bus station to help us out. In the end there was an other bus leaving in short order for a town just past Tsetserleg. Which brings up the usual question in these foreign places: why didn’t the English speaking lady at the ticket office tell us this??
Someone later pointed out, it’s probably because they have to charge us for the entire ride to the destination. And a Mongolian would likely wait the six hours to save throwing away the extra twenty five cents or so. Fare point, I suppose.
It took eight hours to get to Tsetserleg in the end. I should point out, for some reason, Mongolians drive INCREDIBLY slow on the nice, paved highways. Like, eighty kilometres per hour, max. It’s so refreshing to know you probably won’t die while in transit in this country. Unlike so many other bus journeys we’ve been on. I’m fairly sure it’s because there is so much livestock wandering around absolutely everywhere.
The weather in Mongolia is absolutely maniacal. Or at least that is the case during springtime. We woke up in the Gobi desert on our last morning there to a clear blue sky. As we relaxed for a while to take in the view of the valley we were in, I would venture to guess it was around twenty degrees Celsius.
We pulled into Ulan Batar later that day to similar conditions. The Blue Sky Country, some call Mongolia.
Unloaded our stuff into the hostel, had a beer, had a shower… And within about an hour of being back, there was an inch of snow on the ground outside (!?)
The following day felt like we were at a ski resort, with all the surrounding mountains caked in snow, and temperatures dipping to minus eight Celsius at night.
And now two days later (May 7th, I should point out) it is up around twenty degrees again. Joe told me it would likely snow two more times before summer. Weather across the entire country is wild and whacky like that, but Ulan Batar is extreme, and is in fact the coldest capital city in the world.
We got off the bus in Tsetserleg and weren’t approached by a sole about a hotel or taxi ride. I don’t know if that has ever happened before. It was perhaps a five hundred meter walk to the Fairfield hotel where we were staying.
The place was run by an Aussie fella named Murray who had been living in Tsetserleg for three years. Murray, Joe and Anand were great people to be acquainted with in these parts.
Murray hooked us up with the three day tour that Joe insisted we do while here. The tour included a stop at Blue lake and White lake, amongst other things. And unfortunately, the weather forecast called for snow on our second day. Stay tuned to find out if that actually happened 😉
And so on the day we had in spare before leaving on the tour, we hiked up the Holy mountain right behind our hotel. Awesome hike, awesome views at the top!
