Ulaan Baator, MONGOLIA - 04 july 2002
We arrived at the Ulaan Baator train station in the morning. I spotted Goretti who had disembarked before the others and went over to join her. She set her bag on her left side and turned to me, “Wow… It feels different already, ya? Mongolia seems nicer, friendlier.” Then, she turned back to her left and… “WHERE’S MY BAG??? WHERE’S MY BAG? DID YOU SEE IT? WHERE’S MY BAG?” she started yelling.
OH NO!! HER BAG HAD JUST BEEN STOLEN!!! I told her to run and look around for her bag at once! I got Barbara to watch the rest of our bags and I ran out of the train station to try and hunt for her bag too. I saw so many people getting into taxis and I knew we had to act fast before the thief got away. I tried different directions radiating out from the train station but alas, no luck. Argh!!!
After a while, I gave up and returned to the others. All of us were furiously cursing and swearing. What was worse was that just before she got off the train, she had put her money-belt into her bag. So, she lost her passport, air-tickets, travellers’ cheques, money, EVERYTHING!
Well, there was nothing we could do now except make a police report. Jus, who is Slovenian and could speak some Croatian and hence, could fake a little Russian which we hoped the Mongolians knew a little, would stay with Goretti. The rest of us helped carry a little of their belongings and trudged off to Nassan’s Guesthouse.
Nassan’s Guesthouse was really nice. It cost US$4 for a bed and US$3 for a mattress on the floor. Naturally, all of us chose the floor. There were kitchen facilities in our room too. We suggested making pasta one of these nights.
We met Vincent, a French guy now helping out at Nassan’s. He had apparently been stuck in Ulaan Baator for a long time now, because his motorcycle, his means of travel, was not working. Er, whatever… We asked him where were the cheap places to eat, nearest internet, etc… and Barbara asked where she could buy a bicycle. Hmmm, we frowned with concern…
Pablo needed to apply for a Russian transit visa and he made it to the Embassy just before it closed. What they required from him was a Trans-Mongolian train ticket leaving on 19 July and his air ticket leaving on 25 July and they would be able to process a transit visa for him.
Pablo and I then hurried down back to the train station and made it there 5 minutes before they closed to buy our train tickets. I had my Russian visa for 14 July but there were no seats available until 16 July because many people were leaving Mongolia after the Naadam Festival. So, I bought a ticket for 16 July to Irkutsk. Pablo purchased his 19 July train ticket all the way to Moscow.
Jus and Goretti returned late in the evening, gloomily dragging their feet. The Mongolian police did not speak English, some spoke a wee bit of Russian. Half the time, they had no idea what the policemen were doing. They simply followed them around and signed forms they could not understand. Sigh… It was not over yet. Goretti still had tonnes to sort out tomorrow and perhaps, the day after.
Ulaan Baator, MONGOLIA - 05 july 2002
While Goretti went about with the things she had to do, we visited the Museum of Natural History in the morning. Pablo is a biologist and nature guide. So, he was the perfect companion in this museum and could explain a lot of things to us which made the visit all the more interesting. Later, he left to submit his passport and train ticket to the Russian Embassy.
Jus, Tina and I then visited a very unique museum called the Intellectual Museum. The director of this museum is a genius who designs puzzles. The puzzles are three-dimensional blocks which you need to push or pull to dissemble and assemble. They look impossible to crack. He made chess-sets and pawns of different puzzle designs. Apparently, he had designed over 2000 chess-sets, each pawn of an entirely different puzzle design! Even the tables holding the chess-boards are puzzles themselves. Amazing!
Some of the chess-sets were of regular size; some miniatures; some gigantic. They were made from different materials. The director personally carved, sculpted, hammered each and every one of the pawns himself. He used materials like leather, felt, etc… to dress up the huge pawns into Chinggis Khan or a Mongol wrestler. He used expensive red corals to carve the tiny ones into animals. He is also a carpenter and he made all the tables himself. What can I say… this guy is pure genius!
Besides these mind-boggling chess-sets, he collected other types of puzzles and toys from all over the world. Some of these intellectual puzzles are rather famous and I had seen them used in those expensive enrichment courses paid for by your companies.
But the toys were simply… Level 10 KITSCH. There was a pair of spectacles which had eyes bouncing out; there were Barbies in grass-skirts who danced to music when you hit a little switch; there were dolls that responded upon clapping, one dancing to the tune of ‘Macarena’; there were toys that farted bubbles; there was a Scooby Doo; there were clowns; there were crying babies with milk bottles… It was unbelievable. Pablo is a kitsch-hunter. He would love this museum. We had to recommend it to him and all who come to Mongolia.
We collected Pablo from the hostel and headed to the State Department Store to shop for ingredients for pasta tonight. Pablo’s parents are Italians, so the Italian blood in him made him feel personally responsible in creating the most authentic pasta sauce possible. He fretted about and frowned over the ingredients, or rather, the lack of ingredients. “No, this will not be good enough… We need basil leaves… Oh, if only there is white wine… The real Italian sauce needs to be… My mother cooks with…” He bit his lips and muttered away, frustrated.
“PABLO!! WE ARE IN MONGOLIA!!”
Despite the imagined limitations, he made great pasta for us that night.
At around 11pm, Barbara returned with a New Zealand lady from the next room, Margaret. She then ducked out to use the internet. Margaret solemnly informed us that Barbara had apparently bought an air-ticket back to the States this morning. She would fly off tomorrow.
We were stunned. She must have figured she could not do this bicycle trip alone. But, she could still try and book herself on a jeep tour with Nassan. Yet, she did not give herself nor Mongolia a chance and simply decided to flee after one night’s stay in Ulaan Baator. We felt terribly sorry for her. She is very young after all. She was probably having a huge culture shock. We hoped this incident would not deter her from travelling in the future.
Ulaan Baator, MONGOLIA - 06 july 2002
Goretti, more or less recovered from her ordeal, suggested going to the Central Black Market to see if her camera was for sale. If not, she needed to buy one anyway.
Just before we left, Vincent learnt of our intention and warned us very gravely to beware of Ali-Babas. These Ali-Babas or pick-pockets would usually carry a jacket or sweater. They knew about money-belts and used knives to slash pockets. So, we had to be very careful and not carry anything except a tiny amount of cash. Spooked, we returned and stripped ourselves bare of our money-belts and wallets and got Tina to watch our valuables. Tina had been having diarrhoea today so she was not going anywhere for a while.
Goretti stuck money in her bra. At the first stall, she realised if she wanted to buy something, she would need to reach inside her shirt in front of everyone to retrieve the cash. Ha ha… Indeed, during my sojourn around the crowded market, I felt a few people blatantly pinching my waist to test for money-belts!
Pablo bought 30 pencils for a project that he was conducting. He put them all in his front pocket. Later, a guy with a jacket slung awkwardly over his shoulder walked by and we suspected right away he was an Ali-Baba. He squeezed past Pablo. We turned around just in time to retrieve ONE pencil sticking out from under the Ali-Baba’s armpit. The crowd, perhaps part of the act, then closed in. We recounted the pencils – 24 left. W-h-a-t???? They were after PENCILS too?!?!
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