Ulaanbaatar, Mongolia: Couchsurfing A Ger

Eventually, we were freed from the claws of Ulaanbaatar's traffic snarl-up. For the first time in four days of being in the country, we left the city center to bask in Mongolia's famed greenness. Aboard our Couchsurfing host Minjin's car, we were cruising the outskirts of the capital in search of another Couchsurfer's residence.

That Couchsurfer named Begzsuren lives in a traditional Mongolian house with his family of six. It was to be our accommodation for a couple of nights.

Gersurfing!  

After a few unexpected detours, dodging omnipresent road constructions, Minjin found our nondescript turnoff. Begz was waiting for us further along the unpaved, narrow uphill alley. The two have previously met, but Minjin has not been to Begz's ger. She politely turned down the invite for tea because of some post-grad class in the afternoon.

We hugged her farewell and followed Begz's trail that led us deeper into the ger district.

 

 Quite spacious, ain't it?

The air smelt of freshly cut grass and sheep dung. The view of the cramped neighborhood, though far from breathtaking, was a refreshing sight compared to Ulaanbaatar's concrete jungle. We passed a few private backyards before we got to Begz's ger, thankfully without being chased by unleashed dogs. And prior to stepping in, we were asked to wash our hands at the makeshift sink just outside the door — a routine we followed during our two-day stay.

Luna hit it off with the girls right away.  

A ger (also called a yurt) is a portable house traditional in Central Asia, with a collapsible frame made of timber and walls made of sheep's wool felt. Its floor can sometimes be made of wooden planks covered with linoleum, sometimes as simple as bare earth. From the outside it seemed like four adults and five children can't fit comfortably in it. But we learned upon entering that it can actually accommodate double that number. Though there will be little space left to walk on.

  Our "room" divider's attached onto the ger's ceiling frame.  

I don't know about other urban gers, but Begz's is sparsely furnished (they do have a colossal computer monitor though). Following the standard layout, the door faces south for it catches the most daylight. Directly below the toon, a cartwheel shaped opening in the center of the ceiling (which is covered at night with an örkh), is the stove where we found Begz's wife steaming a large pot of milk.

"Sain bain uu!", I greeted everyone, while the hubby sounded like he merely grunted. He never pronounced the words right.

  Homemade bread dipped in öröm (clotted cream). Prelude to our dinner's main dish, aarts-tai shar budaa, boiled yoghurt with yellow rice.   

The couple's three daughters ran to Luna's side and ushered her in. Begz introduced them one by one. They shook our hands and accompanied the gesture with a well delivered, "Hello, nice to meet you!". Not long after, the only son arrived. Although he worked the entire day tending the family's livestock, he managed to give us his biggest smile and firmest handshake. The exhibit of kind manners was overwhelming, I couldn't wipe the ear-to-ear grin off my face.

Morning, day two.  

If I remember correctly, the family has hosted more than a hundred Couchsurfers. For Begz, hosting is a great learning platform for his family. An opportunity for cultural exchange. They may not be able to travel to the world, but a lot of countries — in the human form of surfers — knock on their door and visit their home.
  

Folks, meet the pit toilet. Not for the weak stomach.  

They give guests VIP treatment (and mind you they live a very basic life). Not only were we provided with sleeping space, we were also served home cooked meals (even if we brought our own) which we absolutely loved. The kids taught us how to play shagai, a game that uses ankle bones of a sheep or goat. We can't remember the rules though, or maybe we never really understood them in the first place.

On our second evening in their home, the son played the morin khuur (Mongolian bowed string instrument) for us and the girls performed a traditional dance called biyelgee... And the uhm, non-traditional Jai Ho (song/video conveniently downloaded cause yes, they got WiFi at home).

Morin khuur, a Mongolian bowed string instrument. One of the Masterpieces of the Oral and Intangible Heritage of Humanity identified by UNESCO.  

Also, during our stay, we met the extended family. Grandma, aunt, nephew, niece who all live nearby and came every so often for a chat. Everyone imparted lessons about their customs and traditions. We felt blessed by the universe being in their midst.

Epitome of Mongolian hospitality.

Amazing how a brief couchsurf can deeply change your perspective on different aspects of life. Am glad that for those two days we chose to experience other people's lives, rather than look them through glass.

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