The Long Road to Khövsgöl Nuur

Mongolian Campsite

The day in the van went by so slow, we drove on non existent roads for thirteen hours, got stuck in the mud, watched a drunk Mongolian man bust into Omra’s parents house where we were having lunch only to be subdued by her father, watched Matt get challenged by said drunk and cruised by some incredible scenery only to setup camp next to a mosquito infested bog with a tiny stream of running water next to us. We protested in regards to the site but our guide insisted this was where we would stop. We ate a dish of meat for supper and Jackie was amped she could wash her face in the river. Again it was early to bed as we needed to be up early for the final push to Khosvgol Nuur. After a brief and beautiful stargazing session we headed to the tent to fall asleep amongst the constant howling of wolves and I was stoked to be serenaded by nature’s number one beast.

The Random Streamside Campsite

Jackie Reppin' a Hobo Shower at Our "Campsite"

Boil that and you have supper

Mongolian Road Snacks

Next morning we packed up our dew soaked tents and pushed on through to Khosvgol, en route we asked Omra to stop at the market in the next local town, although puzzled she agreed. We rolled into town and headed to the market where we were greeted with a pile of bloody yak furs that were ‘on sale’ and goats tied to the boxes of trucks anxiously awaiting slaughter. We headed in and the first thing we saw was a dog chewing on the bloody shoulder remnants of some animal whose identity will never be known and a blind/eyeless cat that was aimlessly clawing at it’s own face, the cat was probably the dogs next meal. Upon opening a heavy and semi rusted door we were greeted with a room full of bloody animal parts resting on the counter and hanging from hooks on the roof, it looked like a scene in a B grade horror flick except the blood was real. All the Mongols in the room turned their heads to us and surely wondered what the hell two whiteys were doing here. The only appetizing thing I saw at the market was a full on goat head, a Mongolian delicacy, and since we deemed it too hard to eat in the van we opted out of the market, not quite the road snacks and brewskis we were looking for. Apparently we forgot to add one small detail in regards to our stop: the word super preceding market, the ‘supermarket’ is what we were looking for and we eventually found it and got some choco pies and hit the road for the final five hour push to the edge of Khosvgol.

After finding out the Mongolian market specialized in decapitated animals and not Doritos

Thirteen hours in the van went by slower than a Golden Girls marathon on TBS but we made it to our destination, upon arrival we were  told there was a big party going on that night at the local dance hall. It was late, I picked up Jackie’s flu and Mongolians are notorious for erratic behaviour when wasted but we reluctantly agreed to go fueled by the enthusiasm of our guide.

Mongolian Dance Party

We arrived at a town hall that was reminiscent of a wild west saloon mixed with a country bumpkin dancehall. After paying three thousand tugriks we took our seat on a crickity old bench and waited for the entertainment to start. Surprisingly enough, there was no liquor served at the party and in a matter of minutes the first Mongolian performer hit the stage. Gacked out in a black suit and backed by an instrumental track he started wailing out some Mongolian pop song, I couldn’t tell if I was hallucinating from my fever or if this was really happening. Reality was confirmed when the next performer came out, a young lad of sixteen dressed in what can only be described in a kit suited for a mix of Sgt. Peppers John Lennon and Space Oddity era Bowie and I knew I was catching a glimpse into the rare world of Mongolian Pop Culture. The three dudes sang their hearts out and amongst the beautiful melodies of the music I had a gander around and noticed zero foreigners in the room, save for Jackie, Matt and I…excellent! After the performance we were told it was time for “American Dancing” which none of us, including Matt the Yankee, had any clue as to what that may be. We helped move the benches to the sides of hall and the room split down the middle: tough ass Mongolian men in duster coats on one side and us on the other, it was like a Mexican standoff at a junior high school dance. Everyone looked around at one another until the technical difficulties of the PA system were resolved and the DJ, who was the kid in the Lennon/Bowie outfit, played the first song. Now it is time for a make your own adventure, so choose the most likely of the following options for the debut track:

• A traditional Mongolian song
• The Thunder Rolls by Garth Brooks
• Korean pop jingles
• Oops I did it again by Brittney Spears
• Love the Way You Lie by Eminem and Rhianna

If you guessed five I owe you shot if and when I ever see you, but it was old Slim Shady that started the night off. I scratched my head, again wondering if I was hallucinating and turned to Jackie who had since been lifted onto the dance floor by our guide to rip up the floor. Looking around I was the only one standing still, all the men, women and children who were previously statues turned into prodigious dancers grooving to the slick sounds of old Marshall Mathers. There isn’t a word in the English dictionary to describe how I felt, so we will go with the understatement of shocked. Mongolian tough guy cowboys dressed in traditional dusters and leather riding boots were loving it, it was the perfect plot for a twilight zone episode and I figured I needed to join in and prove my worth as a sober dancing machine (which is not a whole lot).

A poor quality screenshot of one of three Mongolian up and coming pop stars

We danced the night away and had an incredible time, people seemed to be confused as to by signature move, the snap your fingers and slither on the spot like Appetite for Destruction era Axl Rose and I was equally amazed that I could do it without being three sheets to the wind. We wound the night down with an 80s Canadian classic by Montreal dance group Trans X, their one and only hit ‘Living on Video’. I was surprised and sorry that people as far away as Mongolia had their ears assaulted by the terrible beeping of a song that was intended to sound futuristic but ended up sounding like Rosey, the maid from the Jetsons, being successfully seduced by a Spacely Sprockets suitor (say that 12 times fast). It was time for Tylenol and bed after the tune because we were finally at our destination, it was two AM and the Wizard and Matt were getting antsy to leave so we cruised into the night knowing that we witnessed a very rare slice of small town Mongolia and loved every minute of it.