This is the final post in a 5-part series on Dr. Rogers' archaeological fieldwork in Mongolia. See Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4. To see the ethnographic collection that Dr. Rogers brought back to the Smithsonian, see the post Collections from Mongolia!
Have you ever been camping so long that going back to a city and sleeping in a bed sounds like the most uncomfortable thing in the world? If not, then you haven’t been camping on the spacious plains or in the crisp mountain meadows of Mongolia; you haven’t met the generous and kind herding families of the North Gobi; and perhaps you have never gnawed at boiled goat meat while singing the classics of Mongolian folk music. Try it.
Over a few weeks in the summer of 2002, Erdenebat, Matt, Tuya, Sukhbatar, and I logged over 3,000 kilometers in a Russian mini-van, recorded over 40 archaeological sites, and mapped 23 of them. Along the way we made life-long friendships, and learned a few things about a vast and fascinating country. Even Erdenebat, the kind, tall, soft-spoken, and strong Mongolian archaeologist, whom many say could have had a fine career in wrestling— one of the national sports— had never been to many of the sites we visited.
The rain from our last night in the Egiin Gol valley continued as we drove east to the town of Selenge, had some lunch, and continued on to link up with a paved road—a clear sign of civilization and the end of our explorations. I felt truly depressed. As we drove along watching the kilometers whiz by I remember reaching the edge of a huge open pit copper mine adjacent to the city of Erdenet. The mine produces copper and heavy metals for export to Russia. In fact the city exists to support the mine. Along the edges of the mine I will always remember the clouds of greenish smoke enveloping children tending their herds. In the city we found a hotel that looked more like a semi-abandoned office building. I decided to spread out my dirty sleeping bag rather than come in contact with the grayish sheets on the bed.
A cool rainy day in the mountains and valleys of Northern Mongolia. Photo by J. Daniel Rogers
The next day we finished the drive to Ulaanbaatar (U.B.) and found a hotel for $10.00 a night—a good deal except for one small flaw. In the middle of the night, some drunken men started pounding on our door. Matt and I got ready to fight, but after awhile they went away. I don’t know what they were saying, but in retrospect they were probably just asking us to come have a drink with them. That would be typical Mongolian hospitality. Ulaanbaatar is a sprawling capitol city showing its growing pains. Nearly half of the 2+ million people in Mongolia live in this city that mixes high rises with tents. The entrepreneurial spirit is strong and the streets are chocked with SUVs and taxis. As for me, I will die happy if I never have to drive in Ulaanbaatar. I will always take the challenges of rutted tracks across the desert to the frequent near misses of city driving.
Before departing U.B. we paid a visit to the Black Market and purchased a variety of clothing and household items, the kind of things herding families all over the country have in their tents. The Black Market is the place to go for good prices and the experiences of urban life. For instance, if you have ever thought about having your pocket picked, I recommend the Black Market in U.B. Recognizing the risk in advance, I left most of the project money with Sukhbaatar, a man I now trusted with my life. Sure enough, as we left the market a group of men surrounded me and the wallet was just gone—a classic pick pocket move. I immediately remembered my driver’s license and some credit cards were in the wallet and I became very depressed. The ever practical Tuya shrugged her shoulders and said “what do you expect?” As we stood around the mini-van in the parking lot the wallet came skittering along the ground thrown by someone a few vehicles over. The license and credit cards were still inside, only the cash was gone. I have heard of honorable pick pockets. I was robbed, then given a gift, and everyone was happy.
The Black Market purchases included traditional clothing, pillow cases, woven decorations, food and offering bowls, hand-made picture frames, and many smaller items. All these artifacts are now an official part of the Smithsonian ethnographic collections.
Catalog No. E432886-0 National Museum of Natural History, Smithsonian Institution. Photo by Matt Gallon.
The Mongolian love of horses finds representation in everything from bowls to pillow cases. Photo by Matt Gallon. Catalog No. E432880-0, National Museum of Natural History, Smithsonian Institution.
For more objects in the collection, please visit the Smithsonian’s Collection Search Center, and search for “Mongolia Ulaan”!
We spent a few more days in U.B. for meetings at the Academy of Sciences and the U. S. Embassy. Then it was time to go. We said our goodbyes to Erdenebat, Tuya, and Sukhbaatar and boarded the Mongolian Airways flight to Beijing. We flew from the clear blue skies of Mongolia into a different scale of city, both challenging and fascinating. A few days later we were in Washington, District of Columbia.
For those following these posts on Mongolia, remember that this all happened more than ten years ago in 2002. On subsequent trips Tuya and Erdenebat worked with us again on more adventures in Mongolia, Korea, and China. My dear friends have done well in their careers over the last 10 years. Erdenebat received his doctorate at Bonn University in Germany and is now Chair of the Anthropology Department at the National University in Mongolia. Tuya received her law degree and went back to work in the State Prosecutor’s Office on international extradition cases. I haven’t seen Sukhbaatar in a long time, but I feel sure I will run into him again behind the wheel of that gray mini-van. Matt went off to graduate school at the University of Michigan and then moved to Thailand with his new wife.
Left to right: Matt Gallon, Erdenetuya Ulambayar, Erdenebat Ulambayar, Sukhbatar. Photo by J. Daniel Rogers.
My dear friends—see you soon.
Dan Rogers