Tent heating in Mongolia

Mongolia doesn’t care about your comfort. It doesn’t pretend to. Out here on the steppe, where the wind could strip the flesh from your bones and the stars feel close enough to punch you in the face, survival isn’t a metaphor, it’s a daily negotiation.

I have stayed several nights in a traditional ger tent on the Mongolian plains. I wasn’t expecting a mint on the pillow or breakfast in bed. Instead, there was an ancient stove in the center of the tent, its metal sides scorched black with decades of soot and spilled tea. Since there are very few trees around, coal and manure are normally used as fuel, but I managed to toss some wood in there, making it burn with a vengeance.

There’s a delicate ballet to the whole thing. Feed the stove too much stuff and you’re slowly cooking yourself. Too little, and you’re an ice sculpture by morning. There’s something comfortingly primal about the ritual. A healthy fear of hypothermia probably helps as well.

I inevitably dosed off and the fire burned out quickly (vengeance indeed). The temperature got down to about zero degrees Celcius and there was a symphony of grumpy animal noises just outside the tent, reminding me where I was, keeping me humble.

Traditional ger tent in Terelj.

The people living in the valley were very friendly and it was interesting to hear them speak about their views on China. Genghis Khan once formed the Mongol Empire, the largest contiguous land empire in world history ranging from Austria to Korea. Beijing was conquered in 1215 but today the roles are reversed. I asked what they thought of the new movie Mongol which is the story of Genghis, but they seemed to think it it was quite alright compared to earlier takes on the story.

Riding to the turtle rock.

The mornings were spectacular, as the few but colorful autumn trees framed the imposing rock formations in the golden hue of the sunrise. Here and there goats were climbing the steep hills. I even found some coffee. This valley is a perfect getaway from the smoky and noisy capital Ulaanbaatar.

An explosion of colors.

I try to thaw my feet by going for a walk in the surrounding hills. A few goats looks at me briefly, before carrying on with their businesses. That’s the Mongolia I came to find. Brutal, beautiful and completely uninterested in any complaints. The kind of place that strips you down to what you really need, and then makes you grateful for a pile of burning stuff.