July 4th, 2006

Hohhot (Inner Mongolia)

My First (and Last) 4th of July in Inner-Mongolia

Inner-Mongolia Photo Gallery

Catching our morning flight from Beijing to the capital of Inner-Mongolia required waking up at the painful time of 4:30am. This wouldn't have been such a dire way to kick off my 4th of July if I didn't have such a hard time finding a cup of coffee at the badly designed Beijing airport (currently undergoing tremendous renovations in preparation for Beijing 2008.) Despite my complaining, after an hour long delay and a 15 minute bus-ride across the tarmac to our airplane, I was on my way.

As the plane began its final descent in Inner-Mongolia I looked out the airplane window realizing "civilization" as I knew it was a long way off. I prayed we wouldn't touch down at the next dirt strip we came across, although it would have made for quite a story.

The airport turned out to be more than a dirt strip. But not by much.

After disembarking, it wasn't long before more of Mongolia's realities settled in. Riding in the taxi to our hotel, I saw a motorcyclist on my left with a basket full of bleeding goat heads in tow. What a place!

I am tempted to exclude this bit of information, but we stayed at a Holiday Inn because it was the only place available for three people. Being so far from civilization, we were even able to upgrade to a top floor suite for only $25/person – a little more than the yurt [Mongolian tent] I was anticipating, but with mirrors on every wall of the shower, it was easily worth the money.

Within an hour, we negotiated with a taxi driver to take us into the grasslands. Armed with only a torn out page from my travel guide, all we knew is that we were looking for Bao Xiansheng (Mr. Bao), who was supposedly located somewhere in a 30 mile strip between two distant towns. I conveniently neglected to tell my two friends that the travel guide was published five years earlier, and God only knows where Mr. Bao is now…

The ride to the grasslands was worth the trip in and of itself. The landscape looked like it had not changed since the hordes of Genghis Khan were taking Asia by storm.

The real adventure began when the driver dropped us off at a town of only 50 people. Agreeing to meet back at the same place in 6 hours, we said goodbye to the driver and began walking to nearby yurts [Mongolian tents] looking for information. By this time, we realized finding Mr. Bao was hopeless.

With limited Chinese, we eventually negotiated to rent horses and a guide for several hours. We hopped in a car and went off-roading through the grasslands to find a herd of grazing horses.

We mounted our horses and began trotting through the grasslands. This was the first time I have ridden a horse in the wild, but it was not hard to get a feel for riding. What is hard is getting used to the pain from the saddle and preventing my crotch from riding up on the saddle!

After clearing several hills, we were lost in another world. Hopefully the pictures give an idea of how picturesque the landscape was.

After about an hour of riding, we stopped at a small home and were served Mongolian snacks: goat milk tea, rice kernels, sugar, butter, and a kind of fried dough. It was not clear how I was supposed to eat the food, and I am sure drinking the un-pasteurized goat milk was not the smartest thing I have done, but we had a fun time sampling the dishes. I don't think I will be mail ordering the food in the future, though.

The most rewarding parts of the meal were the chicken that ran through the house while we ate, and the enormous piles of dung that have been accumulating for the past six centuries.

Another strange feeling was the freedom of peeing in any direction I wanted. One could easily see for miles, but it did not matter because no one was out there. Unable to decide which direction to spray, I turned around in circles, and probably hosed down Shisheer's shoes without him realizing it.

After we wore out our horses (and our asses), we met back up with our driver. There was a bit of a scare when the Mongolians began pressuring us for more money by preventing our car from leaving and surrounding the car (we had all our doors locked.) I was angry because they were trying to cheat us, and I eventually convinced the driver to drive through the lot of them.

We arrived back in Hohhot as evening was approaching.

I decided to walk through the city with Alison and sample the many outdoor food stalls. I could not help laughing when I saw the basket of goat heads from the morning (now skinned and cooked) being used in a large stew.

For our 4th of July dinner, we ate at the hotel restaurant hoping to meet other foreigners. We should have known better – we were the only Americans. If nothing else, how can one ever forget spending a 4th of July in the heart of Inner-Mongolia.

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