Wow, I’m over the halfway mark for my stay in Mongolia. Tomorrow is Tsagaan Sar, which is the Mongolian Lunar New Year. It is the biggest annual holiday here. That means the office is closed tomorrow (!). Also, the big, looming deadline for filing personal tax returns has finally come and gone. While working up to this deadline, I’ve been hearing the same thing from various people over and over, “the weather will get better after Tsagaan Sar”. Sure. I’ll believe it when I feel it.
I have learned from my colleagues that Mongolians measure the winter in 9 periods of 9 days. I think it starts around the winter solistice and continues to end of March. The people who follow this were adamant that the coldest periods are the 3rd and 4th, which apparently happened around the last two weeks of January. Looking back, those two particular weeks were in fact the coldest weeks of the winter so far.
So what has the weather been like, you ask?
Pretty damn cold. And these words are coming from a born-and-raised, winter-living Canadian. Mind you, I have lived in/ around Toronto for most of my life other than a 3 year stint in Ottawa. Toronto is looked down on by most other Canadian cities as a winter wimp, the we-got-it-easy winter city of Canada. Nonetheless, Toronto has had its share of -30 below days, ice storms, and massive snowfalls over the years. I’ve also lived through Ottawa winters and they are no walk in the park. So when I say it’s pretty damn cold in Mongolia, I’m not exaggerating.
The temperatures has ranged bewteen -13 and -42. Living in Ulaanbaatar and being a 10 minute walk to work, I’ve found that the biggest difference in getting dressed up is wearing thermal long johns under my dress pants and suiting up in my heavier duty boots and mitts when the temperatures dropped below -30.
The unforgiving harshness of the extreme cold didn’t sink in for me until I travelled to Terelj National Park for one night in late January.
That weekend it was -37 to -40 degrees outside. Our one stop along the way was the Chinggis Khaan Statute (apparently it is the largest stainless steel horse statute in the world!). The seasoned ex-pats with us thought eagles may be there (You may hold an eagle on your arm as a novel experience and a good Mongolia photo op). Sure enough eagles were waiting for the likes of us (with eagle owners, of course). Initially I had no interest. But after seeing everyone else do it without so much as a scratch, I caved and got my photo op too.
I should mention that I was not dressed for the weather, thinking we were driving straight to the lodge that afternoon. I had two layers of shirts, one pair of jeans, and what I thought were my trusty, old boots. My best winter armour was the black diamond mittens. I had decided not to bring the -50 grade boots because I hadn’t broken them in and they felt stiff. Boy, what a poor decision that was.
Within 10 minutes of being outside and exposing my hands to the air to take photos, my hands went completely numb and I felt pain. My feet felt the same way. My boots were no match for the extreme cold.
Something in me snapped and all I could focus on was going inside, immediately. Hoping the statute was not a mirage, I started up the stairs before everyone else. I heard my name being called and vaguely realized I was supposed to pay for my eagle encounter. I turned to go back, but my friend had already paid for the two of us. She was on the same wavelength. We both rushed into the statute together, away from the wind and out of -35 below cold.
While my hands were able to regain feeling and warmth in the course of exploring the statute, my feet continued to be in recovery mode even after we were back in the car headed to the lodge. I don’t remember ever feeling that cold in my life.
After settling in to the lodge, my roommate, Laurel, invited me to go on a short hike before the sun went down and the bitterest of the cold set in. Despite my last outdoor experience, I couldn’t resist saying yes.
This time I bundled up with way more layers and newly-bought snow pants (it was the only piece that I forgot to bring from home). We ended up hiking up a hill. It was probably 15 minutes of upward steep-incline, climbing on firm snow to reach the top. We made it in time to catch a glimpse of the setting sun.
Half-way up my feet started feeling numb. But I didn’t want to abandon the hike as I could see the top and wondered what the view would be like. “Only a few more steps”, I thought. “I could do this”. And I did. Except I lasted there for only 3 minutes. I took 1-2 photos and then my bare hands were frozen like ice. I felt that if I stayed any longer my feet would be frostbitten and possibly freeze off my body.
While the rest of the group were still climbing upwards, I raced back down trying not to slip and slide. When I reached the bottom, I made a beeline for the lodge’s reception, which had a lit fireplace. Instant satisfaction and warmth.
I was grateful for all my winter gear, and kicked myself for not bringing the -50 grade boots. I was especially grateful to my husband, Andrew, who encouraged me to pick up the black diamond mittens in Canada. My hands were perfectly warm when tucked inside them, and my wrists too. My outdoor experience that weekend would have been a nightmare without them.
Since the Terelj trip, the weather got even worse, Now it’s getting better. I’ve heard that March is also below zero and that the Mongolian winter is not considered over until May. It’s unfortunate that I am only here for the worst part of the year, as everyone tells me that it is beautiful and hot in the summer. Alas, this is the firm’s busy season and only now do they need the extra help. C’est la vie, I suppose.
Living in this weather has made me in awe of Mongolians and those courageous spirits who choose to call Mongolia home. I’ll take a Toronto winter any day compared to this.