Language school difficulties and a bushwhacking weekend

Welcome to my third blog post!

This past week has been an interesting one. On Monday August 24th we started Mongolian language school. I was feeling fairly optimistic about the prospect as everything VSO had organised for us thus far had been great. Monday morning saw me leaping out of bed and in the mood for some awesome learning!! But seriously, I was genuinely looking forward to learning Mongolian and cracking the enigma that is the cyrillic alphabet. We had to catch the bus to school (which I haven't done for a good few years) at 8:20am but having observed the Mongolian people's contempt for the practice of being on time we didn't rush to get to our pick up point. In the event, we weren't even really late (about a minute) but try telling that to the bus driver. Picture any Japenese prison camp from a World War two movie and now picture the commandant. Our bus driver makes them look like ballet instructers. He has buzz-cut grey hair, a face that suggests "I've killed people", and a stare that says "I've definitely killed people". Anyway, we sheepishly scrambled onto the bus headed off to school with a long mental note reminding us not to be late again.

The language school is a large circular, red-bricked building that may have been a church at one time. Upon entering we were greeted by some of the staff who divided us up into two groups who would be taught seperately for the next two weeks. I believe they were employing a divide and conquer method as it quickly became apparent that the purpose of this school was to break our will. I won't go into detail about each lesson as it would bore me and probably you as well but suffice to say, I had more fun the last time I stubbed my toe. Our teacher speaks very little English and her favourite teaching method is the good old, "I'll say something and then you will endlessly repeat it" technique. Despite her best efforts, after a week at the school I can finally read a bit of cyrillic but when I first looked at it I may as well have been trying to read a babies random scrawlings. The first week at the school dragged but finally the weekend appeared on the horizon.

I had been looking forward to it ever since it was first mentioned. Myself and a group of VSO's headed into the hills of the Bogd Khan protected area to do some hiking and camping. On the way to the start point I envisioned a gentle stroll over across some reasonable hills and valleys. had I known the truth I would have been filled with trepidation...and I would have brought more water.

The morning started nicely enough on a relatively gentle gradient but as we entered the forest the path began to get steeper and much less pleasant. I was lagging behind a bit due to my total lack of fitness but I "heroically" pushed on. The woods were totally unspoilt and every now and again there would be a break in the tree line and we were treated to a stunning view out across the steppe. As well as great vistas, the morning presented us with a bizarre incident. The last thing any of us expected to find up in the hills was a full company of soldiers, weapons and all, lounging around in the shade of the forest canopy. Naturally we were surprised and I wondered if we had accidentally wandered into a military exercise and were about to be forcefully ejected from the area. Thankfully, our presence barely registered with them, save for a few curious glances. Shortly after we had passed the soldiers the reason for their presence became clear. As we rounded a bend a portly man wearing a blue shirt hoved into view. He was flanked by two men carrying weapons, both of whom had their fingers on the trigger. It turned out that he was the president of Mongolia been out walking with the American ambassador (whom we encountered looking rather tired later on). Life is strange sometimes.

In the early afternoon we climbed up a large rock formation which stood at around 2224m and was capped by a very large ovoo (see earlier post). It offered spectacular views of Ulaanbaatar as well as the steppe and distant hills. It was one of those moments that you know you will remember for many years to come. Sitting perched on a rock with nature in all its glory spread out before you is quite an experience. Aside from the wind there it was quiet I could hear the flapping of the enormous ravens circling overhead.

After we headed on there was no more paths to follow. We were officially bushwhacking and the going was rough. We hiked over boulder fields and through dead woods as thunder claps nearby made us concerned for the night ahead. It was whilst we were traversing one of the large boulder fields that I was saved from serious facial disfigurement by luck and my ruck-sack. I was hopping from boulder to boulder when I put my foot on a rock which gave-way. I started falling forwards and luckily my foot slipped and twisted my body so that I landed on my back rather than my face. I was scratched and bruises and my back ached for a while afterwards but I was otherwise unhurt. The thought of face-planting a boulder isn't a happy one.

We eventually found a camp-site and set up for the night. We lucked out both with the location and the weather. It didn't rain despite the thunder which was now directly overhead. The night wasn't particularly comfortable but at least we were dry! In the morning we set off and I hoped that the worst was behind us. However, the devil vomitted in my kettle once more and it only got worse. We were scrambling over bigger rocks, through thicker forest, over more uneven ground, and up and down steeper valleys. It would be fair to say that I was well and trully exhausted as we finally emerged from the forest onto the hill that would lead us down to Ulaanbaatar. At this point I was pretty much in a daze and it was all I could do to prevent myself from toppling over and grinding face first down the hill.

As with any tough trip we finished with a beer and a smile and I'll be damned if it wasn't the best beer I'd ever had.

Many thanks for reading! I know it was a long one!