Mongolia

Mongolia - The place I've always wanted to visit. The vastness of its grassland and the endless horizon of gobi dessert where heaven and earth meet have all set my imagination wild. I dreamt of sleeping in the desert in almost total darkness under the night sky lit up by quiet stars, of experiencing the free-spirited nature of the nomads, far away from where I am supposed to be. This is the trip I thought would enable me to find inner peace, of opening up my mind to a whole new experience, of re-discovering myself.
I had many fears before landing in Mongolia. Fear of the unknown in a strange land. And I had been fed with horror tales of how dangerous the land is- how Chinese are being discriminated, streets rife with robberies especially targeted at foreigners like me, sandstorms, vodka and drunkards, rabies..... etc. My parents and relatives were paranoid before I left and I think I had been influenced too. Despite all these, I knew I had to go, and I had to do it alone. Because I do not want to be incapacitated by fears. And I do not want fears to stop me from pursuing my dreams in life. So to go, I am set to conquer my inner fears and to find the delicate balance between experiencing and controlling my life and taking responsibility of my personal safety.

As much as how unpreditable life can be, my trip didn't go as I planned. An unexpected flight delay caused by sandstorms landed me with an unusual friend whom i came to feel destined with. My itinerary to gobi never materialised but my friend turned up to make up for a memorable time in mongolia. I think part of the joy in backpacking lies with its spontaneity, you think you could be up for something but eventually you ended with some other thing that comes along. And isn't such spontaneity a part of life?

The nomad family whom I stayed with showered me with great hospitality. Despite being poor by international standard, mongolians nomads lead  a life of pride and principles. In fact, I had never been approached by any mongolians for pittance. I remembered when I was in Tibet, it had been a rather common sight where poor children went around asking tourists for their money. No, mogolians nomads don't. They can be poor, but they are a group of happy nomads! Everyday I woke up to the laughters of children playing merrily, to the exciting chattering of the neighbours, to the chirping of birds. Taking a stroll down the village, I  would be greeted by the exuberated friendliness of kids who were busily helping their families with transporting buckets of water or farming tools along the field. Indeed I could already feel such kind hospitality when I first landed at the ger which I was to stay. The chubby little boy came dashing out from his house with a bright sunny smile to welcome us.

It freaked me out when the little boy almost  tried to swallow the balloon i gave him. I'm sure in singapore, such a sight would already have sent alarming parents scurrying to snatch the dangerous object from the child's hands before he places it in his mouth. But the nomad family behaved in a rather calm and composed form. On another occasion, the boy tried to climb a mountain during a rainy day and the father of the australian family I met in mongolia was so concerned about his safety that he rushed to carry the little kid back to the ger, where the mother and grandmother were taking a nap.  I guessed mongolians kids are free to roam around and explore, to self taught what life is about and to handle dangers with instinct.

At Terelj National Park

Beijing-Mongolia