Only twenty minutes from Mongolia
Mongolia | Anno 2013
Wednesday, July 10 | Ulaanbaatar – Around Sükhbaatar Square
Sunday, July 14 | Ulaanbaatar – National Museum of Mongolia
Thursday, July 18 | Ulaanbaatar – Zaisan Hill, Winter Palace of Bogd Khan
Monday, July 22 | Ulaanbaatar – Choijin Lama Temple Museum
Epilogue | Komen-Waasten (Belgium) – British War Cemetery
Wednesday, July 10 | Ulaanbaatar – Around Sükhbaatar Square
You might think you’re in Mongolia when you arrive in Ulaanbaatar. But alas, you’re not. Mongolia and its capital are two completely different worlds. If you want to discover the real Mongolia, you have to leave the capital. It’s a short drive, as Ulaanbaatar is just about twenty minutes away from Mongolia.
Yet this doesn’t mean Ulaanbaatar itself has nothing to offer. We will discover this dynamic city little by little, in between our visits to various remote corners of Mongolia. No doubt, it will lead to an impressive kaleidoscope of impressions.
Zanabazar is even called the Michelangelo of the Steppe due to the breadth and diversity of his work
To begin our exploration of Ulaanbaatar, we head toward the Zanabazar Museum of Fine Arts. For now, Zanabazar remains an unfamiliar name to us, but here he is recorded as a direct descendant of Genghis Khan and one of Central Asia’s greatest artists. He is even called the Michelangelo of the Steppe due to the breadth and diversity of his work. Medicine, astronomy, architecture, literature, art, philosophy, theology... he mastered it all.
He was just five years old when he was recognised as the Jebtsundamba Khutughtu, the third most important figure in the Tibetan Buddhist hierarchy – after the Dalai Lama and the Panchen Lama. From that moment, he became the spiritual leader of the Mongolian Gelug sect, known as the Yellow Hat school of Tibetan Buddhism. Remarkably, at the age of twelve, he founded his first monastery in 1647. Truly a fascinating figure.
Curious, we step inside the museum. Unfortunately, photography is prohibited. The building itself, with its peeling windows and somewhat outdated appearance, does not inspire much hope for the treasures within. Originally built in 1906 as a department store, it was later occupied by Russian Red Army troops in 1921, which adds little prestige to its credentials as a museum space.
However, our guide, Batmunkh, does not let that diminish his pride as he elaborates on Mongolian culture, and rightly so. We see megaliths with images of flying deer, known as bugan chuluu or deer stones. These stones were placed near burial mounds of noble individuals, symbolising the ascent of the soul to heaven. Deer stones are found throughout Mongolia and date back to the Bronze Age.
Though it is impossible to bring rock carvings into a museum, replicas provide a good sense of the ancient Mongolian art scattered across the vast landscape. Buddhist murals, recreated here, once adorned the desert kingdoms of Karakhoja and Turpan in the Tarim Basin between the 7th and 9th centuries – an area now part of China’s Xinjiang province.
In 2009, just four years ago, two beautiful alabaster stones were discovered. They tell the story of a Turkish king from the 7th century, found in Töv, the province encircling Ulaanbaatar like a giant donut. He was only forty-four when he died, a young age for someone of such stature.
Remarkably, at the age of twelve, Zanabazar founded his first monastery in 1647
Apparently, small wooden figurines were quite popular as burial gifts. Many depict women, though there is also a mythical bird believed to carry the deceased’s spirit to the afterlife. The equestrian figurines, on the other hand, bear a strong resemblance to the works of the Chinese Tang Dynasty, though they lack the same level of refinement.
It was during this same Tang Dynasty that woodblock printing became popular – a technique where the image is first carved into wood and then repeatedly printed on paper.
Mongolia is home to about twenty different ethnic groups, including the Khalkha, Buryats, and Barga. The museum displays their traditional clothing, jewellery, and everyday objects, showcasing the rich cultural diversity of the country.
Zanabazar, the man to whom the museum owes its name, was an incredibly industrious figure. In addition to his many accomplishments, he even invented a writing system known as the Soyombo script. The name means self-created. According to legend, Zanabazar saw the characters appear in the sky one night, a moment of divine inspiration.
Ulaanbaatar – Zanabazar Museum |
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Mongolian flag with Soyombo character |
One of the Soyombo characters has even made it to national symbol status on the Mongolian flag. It’s quite a cerebral concept, with a measured meaning for each part. At the top is fire, representing eternal growth. Below that are the earth and moon, symbolising the eternal existence of the state. The vertical bars symbolise unity and strength, while the horizontal ones represent stability. The downward triangles signify the defeat of any internal or external enemy that threatens the state. Finally, the central yin-yang symbol reminds us of the complementarity of man and woman.
Our museum visit is a leisurely affair – not boring, but also not thrilling. Until Zanabazar himself changes that completely when we suddenly find ourselves face to face with his four stunning Dhyani Buddhas, or meditation Buddhas, with a stupa at the centre. The bronze statues, covered in gold leaf, are sublime. The White Tara, symbol of wisdom, is also a gem.
Zanabazar’s bronze statues, covered in gold leaf, are sublime
In the next two rooms, we are impressed by magnificent thangkas. These are paintings on silk or cotton, primarily with an educational purpose. They are also rollable, making them easy to transport – always handy when you lead a nomadic life. Typical Buddhist themes set the tone, such as scenes from the life of the Buddha, myths associated with a bodhisattva, or historical events from the life of a famous lama.
The purpose of the cham dance is to drive out evil and bring prosperity to the local community. Such ritual pantomime dances are an integral part of any Buddhist festival in Tibet, Ladakh or Mongolia. To the rhythm of traditional instruments, monks move in slow, swirling motions across the monastery courtyard, watched by hundreds, if not thousands, of pilgrims. The clothing and masks are a feast for the eyes.
At the start of the dances, an old, bald man with a white beard will invariably appear, announcing the misfortune he sees looming over the community. And just as invariably, at the end, he will return, relieved, to declare that the dances have successfully averted the disaster.
Fascinated, we observe the garments finished with appliqué, the decorative aprons and bibs, the jewellery made of camel bone, the curious crocodile-shaped shoes, and especially the impressive papier-mâché masks.
The room with traditional paintings seems to offer little of interest, were it not for the fact that two of the most famous works by a certain B. Sharav are on display there. While they may not be high art, both A Day in Mongolia and The Airag Feast give us an almost encyclopaedic view of daily life in the Mongolian countryside. No event seems to be missing. In their attention to detail, they are somewhat reminiscent of the scenes painted by the famous Flemish painter Pieter Bruegel the Elder – but set four centuries later.
It’s half past five when we head down to the nearby Sükhbaatar Square, the beating heart of the capital. The place is bustling. On the steps of the imposing parliament building, they are dismantling the stands. Speeches by dignitaries kicked off the Independence Day celebrations this morning, and it will be heavily featured on TV tonight.
One raised front leg of the horse indicates trouble – the person in question died under suspicious circumstances
At the centre of the square stands the equestrian statue of Sükhbaatar. The fact that the horse has one raised front leg is no coincidence, Batmunkh explains. If both front legs were on the ground, it would mean the rider died a natural death. If the horse were rearing with both front legs off the ground, the rider would have died heroically in battle. One raised front leg, however, indicates trouble – the person in question died under suspicious circumstances.
Sükhbaatar Square – Equestrian Statue of Sükhbaatar |
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Parliament Building |
Batmunkh clarifies the situation further. When the Russian Red Army began driving the Chinese out of Mongolia in 1921, Sükhbaatar somewhat naively allied himself with them. However, once that task was done, it became clear that the Russians hadn’t come to liberate Mongolia, but to stay. Sükhbaatar wasn’t pleased with the idea of a new occupier, and his resentful stance didn’t sit well with the Russians. To this day, many Mongolians believe that the Russians poisoned him for that reason. At the very least, Sükhbaatar ended up with this statue and a province named after him. His image also appears on banknotes, although only on the smaller denominations. From 1 000 tugriks and up, that honour is reserved for Genghis Khan.
Batmunkh points out a few buildings around the square – the imposing parliament building, the stock exchange, and the post office. In fact, the parliament building is hidden behind a huge marble colonnade, which was erected in 2006 primarily to showcase Genghis Khan. Seated with legs wide apart, he sits on his throne in the central hall, flanked by two elite soldiers. At the left end of the gallery sits his son, Ögedei Khan, and at the far right, his grandson, Kublai Khan.
Festive atmosphere at Sükhbaatar Square
We weave our way through the crowd and come across a lively dancing group at the southern end of the square. It feels like a kind of preview of the Naadam Festival that takes place tomorrow, but it’s not – it’s an actual world record attempt. Five thousand dancers from 21 provinces are trying to enter the Guinness Book of World Records with their traditional dance. This isn’t Mongolia’s first attempt at such a feat. Back in 2011, they already secured the title for the largest wrestling tournament ever, with 6 002 participants.
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A highly colourful affair it is, this dance spectacle. Each ethnic group proudly displays its own traditional costumes. Men and women of all ages are participating – the youngest dancer is just three years old, while the oldest is eighty, as we later read in the newspaper.
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What the Natural History Museum is particularly proud of is its palaeontology section. You can find complete dinosaur skeletons from the Gobi Desert there, and even nests of fossilised dinosaur eggs. Unfortunately, the museum has been closed for several months now due to renovations. It is set to reopen in 2016.
Natural History Museum – Tarbosaurus bataar
Batmunkh, however, has an alternative up his sleeve. Locally, it’s affectionately called Bataar, but it is actually a tarbosaurus bataar, a cousin of the Tyrannosaurus Rex that terrorised the Gobi Desert around 70 million years ago.
This dinosaur has a backstory with the makings of a thriller
This dinosaur has a backstory with the makings of a thriller. When it was announced that a complete tarbosaurus bataar skeleton would be auctioned in New York on May 20, 2012, alarms went off in Ulaanbaatar. To date, such skeletons have only ever been found in the Gobi Desert, so the one being sold in New York had undoubtedly been smuggled out of Mongolia illegally.
The Mongolian government swiftly assembled a team of experts to scientifically confirm the skeleton’s origins. The conclusion was clear and quick – this skeleton could only have been found in the Gobi Desert.
Tarbosaurus bataar |
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Nest of fossilised dinosaur eggs |
The fact that the skeleton had already been auctioned for $ 1 052 500 didn’t matter. In the end, the Mongolians succeeded in their mission. Just a few weeks ago, Bataar returned to his homeland – by plane, of course, as befits a Bataar. Since then, it has found temporary shelter in a hall on Sükhbaatar Square, giving us the chance to marvel at the 2,4-meter-high and 7,3-meter-long skeleton.
There’s also a nest of fossilised dinosaur eggs on display, attributed to an oviraptor – a so-called egg thief. But that label is a misunderstanding. When a fossilised dinosaur was discovered on a nest of eggs in 1923, the hasty conclusion was that the dinosaur was about to steal the eggs.
It wasn’t until 1994 that science confirmed it was actually a brooding dinosaur mother. Likely buried alive with her eggs during a sandstorm or landslide, her motherly devotion was tragically misinterpreted, giving her an undeserved reputation as an egg thief.
Sunday, July 14 | Ulaanbaatar – National Museum of Mongolia
A thick cloud cover hangs over Ulaanbaatar as we land at Genghis Khan International Airport just before three, following our visit to Lake Khövsgöl, the Blue Pearl of Mongolia. Judging by the many puddles, it must have rained heavily here in the past few hours.
Killed in action at Le Gheer, Belgium, on 8 April 1915
We don't have much time, so we head straight to the National Museum of Mongolia. There, we are immediately surprised by a small but very special exhibition. A hundred or so black-and-white photos are displayed in a separate room. These are the works of one Gerald Charles Binsteed, taken at a time when photography was still in its infancy. As a lieutenant in the British army, he visited Mongolia – completely unknown at the time – not once, but four times in 1913. Quite an impressive feat, considering that even today, travelling long distances in Mongolia is no easy task.
You might expect great things from a man like that, but sadly, his career was cut tragically short. His brief biography notes: Killed in action at Le Gheer, Belgium, on 8 April 1915.
Transport of gers – Gerald Charles Binsteed (1913)
The exhibition features documentary photographs with precise themes, showcasing people posing with serious expressions. Binsteed aims to tell us something about this land and its inhabitants. The timelessness of the photos is stunning; it feels as though hardly anything has changed on the Mongolian steppe over the past century. Admittedly, today you might spot a modern satellite dish next to a traditional ger, a handful of solar panels, a motorcycle, or a rickety Russian UAZ-452 truck. However, the fundamental way of life for the nomads on the steppe appears to have remained unchanged.
The following rooms expand on Mongolia's historical perspective. Remains of Homo habilis, Homo erectus, and Homo sapiens indicate that Mongolia has been integral to the development of the human species from the very beginning.
Stone amulet |
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Deer stones |
From the Stone Age, quite large pit houses have been discovered, similar to those of the Anasazi in the western USA. A particularly beautiful large stone amulet, estimated to be five to six thousand years old, is on display. Burial mounds and deer stones testify to human presence during the Bronze Age.
A separate room is dedicated to the Huns. In the third century BCE, they succeeded in uniting the nomadic peoples of the time – Turks, Mongols, and Manchus – for several centuries. Their empire stretched from Kazakhstan to Korea and from Lake Baikal to the Great Wall of China. They derived their wealth from trade activities along the Silk Road. Both the Mongols and the Turks, as well as the Manchus, still take pride in being descendants of the Huns, Batmunkh tells us.
Both the Mongols and the Turks, as well as the Manchus, still take pride in being descendants of the Huns
In the first century CE, that powerful empire began to disintegrate. The southern Huns became a vassal state of powerful China, while the northern Huns were succeeded by increasingly new peoples. Their names may not always sound familiar to us – Xianbei, Rouran, Turks, Uyghurs, Khitan.
In fact, it was the Turks who were the first foreign people to rule over Mongolia. Their dominance lasted for two centuries, from 552 to 745. From that time, we see the stone of Koltegin, a stele inscribed with the runic script that was prevalent then.
Batmunkh points to a map showing the distribution of the main ethnic groups in Mongolia. By far the largest group is the Khalkha. Batmunkh's mother turns out to be a Torguud from the far southwest of Mongolia. Beautiful garments with stunning jewellery are exhibited.
Traditional costumes |
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From the beginning of the 13th century, the Great Mongol Empire was on the rise. A large map highlights the campaigns of Genghis Khan and his sons and grandsons, showcasing their intercontinental conquests – if only the lighting in this room weren’t defective.
Diadem |
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Necklace |
Decorative brooch |
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Horse harness |
Not only the weapons of these warriors are on display, but also everyday utensils, jewellery, musical instruments, and ritual objects. We get an up-close look at the famous morin khuur, a two-stringed fiddle. A luxuriously furnished ger from the 18th century illustrates that life on the steppe didn’t always have to be filled with hardship.
Ger (18th century)
Then the events of the 20th century are reviewed – the brief but bizarre independence during the time of Bogd Khan, the Soviet-Russian dominance, and the war against Japan on the side of the Allies.
When the Soviet Empire began to tremble in 1989, it was Mongolian students in East Germany who first noticed it, according to Batmunkh. They became the driving force behind the revolution that would free Mongolia from the USSR.
It wasn't without struggle. In March 1990, a hunger strike broke out to force the communist government to resign. The Politburo's intention to break the hunger strike by force met resistance from state leader Jambyn Batmunkh. He single-handedly managed to prevent a Mongolian disaster scenario reminiscent of Tiananmen. This was reason enough for the mother of our Batmunkh to name her son after the statesman who was born exactly 60 years earlier.
For dinner, we head to Altaj Mongolian Barbecue on the busy Seoul Street. The fact that they are installing new sewage systems makes access a bit tricky.
Mongolian Barbecue has nothing to do with barbecue, nor does it relate to Mongolia
A rich assortment of raw ingredients is displayed in the coolers – vegetables, meat, fish, eggs, sauces... You can choose whatever you like, and several chefs are ready to stir-fry it in no time on a blazing hot grill. This has nothing to do with barbecue, nor does it relate to Mongolia, as it was invented in Taiwan, where it remains popular. But it is delicious!
Thursday, July 18 | Ulaanbaatar – Zaisan Hill, Winter Palace of Bogd Khan
Under a radiant sky with hardly a cloud in sight, the Fokker 50 from Aero Mongolia descends towards Ulaanbaatar after a flight of just over five quarters of an hour from Dalanzadgad in the Gobi Desert. Almost half an hour earlier than expected, the pilot lands the plane at Genghis Khan International Airport. Our driver, Bagi, is also caught off guard, as the familiar silhouette of his bus is currently missing from the parking lot. It’s 11 o'clock when our bus lumbers into Ulaanbaatar for the third time. The potholes in the road and the traffic jams in the streets are starting to feel familiar to us.
Zaisan Hill – View of Ulaanbaatar
Immediately, we head towards Zaisan Hill, a hill on the southern side of the city. Once, this area was primarily frequented by the elite, which is why it’s called the Hill of the Lord. It’s still a residential neighbourhood where the wealthy feel at home. However, the hill itself has since been taken over by the Russian comrades. They have erected a monument there – an ode to the friendship between the Russian and Mongolian people, as it is said. It also serves as a tribute to the many soldiers who lost their lives during one of the many conflicts of the 20th century in this region.
Ulaanbaatar – Buddha Park
Halfway up the hill, Bagi drops us off at the parking lot. Of the six hundred steps that were anticipated, we only have to climb 292. Before us unfolds a breathtaking view over the capital along a wide bend of the Tuul River. To the left, a sixteen-meter-tall statue of Sakyamuni, the historical Buddha, towers above the Buddha Park. Further along in the northern suburbs, the impoverished ger districts cling to the hillside.
Zaisan Hill – Monument of Friendship between Russia and Mongolia |
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The ostentatious war monument is for Batmunkh the perfect spot to explain the relations between Russia and Mongolia in the drizzling rain. It was the Manchus who, in 1689, managed to put a stop to the Russian invasion of Central Asia. Soon, the Russians began to see China as the greatest threat, while Japan was also emerging. To turn the tide, the Russians sent travellers to the region. These were essentially spies tasked with gathering as much information as possible about the nature, the population, the economy, the organisation, and more. The most famous among them was undoubtedly Nikolai Przewalski.
From all this information, tsarist Russia concluded that there existed a nomadic people in that vast area, distinctly different from their neighbours in terms of language, religion, and social structure. In short, enough alibi to create a Mongolian nation, which would also serve as a buffer zone against China and Japan. In Batmunkh's words, it was like the Poland of the Far East.
In short, enough alibi to create a Mongolian nation – a bit like the Poland of the Far East
When Mongolia separated from China in 1911, Tibet was quick to be the first to recognise the new state. However, it was Russia that secured the first trade agreement. This was rather duplicitous, according to Batmunkh, because a secret understanding remained between Russia and China that Mongolia was part of China. And when the Bolsheviks came to power in Russia, they discarded much, but not the tsarist view of Mongolia.
But now the danger came from the east. Japan had set its sights on Siberia, Mongolia, China, Southeast Asia, and Australia. This is evident from a famous memorandum by Japanese Prime Minister Tanaka from 1927, Batmunkh remarks. Today, historians agree that this memorandum was a forgery, but at the time, it played an immense role in war propaganda.
As if to validate the authenticity of the memorandum, Japan occupied Manchuria in 1931 and invaded Northeast Asia in 1937. Mongolians and Soviets united in defence, fiercely battling from May to August under the leadership of Russian General Zhukov on the banks of the Khalkhyn Gol.
For the first time since 1895, the Japanese were defeated. This victory earned Zhukov the first of his four gold stars as a Hero of the Soviet Union. He would now turn westward to teach the Nazis a lesson. The Japanese, on the other hand, decided to abandon Mongolia and focus their attention on Southeast Asia. In their history books, they refer to the humiliating defeat of their Sixth Army in Mongolia as the Nomonhan Incident, in an attempt to save face.
It was Stalin who ultimately forced China to swallow the bitter pill
Immediately, the good relationship between Mongolia and the Soviet Union was established. When the Allies wanted to grant Mongolia its independence after the war, only China held firm. It was Stalin who ultimately forced China to swallow the bitter pill. In exchange for the independence of its historical vassal, China received the assurance that Soviet troops would not leave China until the last Japanese soldier had departed. In addition, the Soviet Union handed over for free all the railways they had built in Manchuria for their war against Japan.
In 1981, the excellent relationship between the two countries culminated, both figuratively and literally, in the nearly eight-day stay of a certain Jügderdemidiin Gürragchaa as the first Mongolian cosmonaut aboard the Russian space station Salyut 6.
Meanwhile, we descend into the city, enjoy a sweet-and-sour chicken at Thai Express Restaurant, and then head toward the Winter Palace of Bogd Khan.
From here, the last king of Mongolia ruled from 1911 to 1921. It was a strange period. The Chinese had just been expelled, and the Russians were not yet in the vicinity. It must have seemed like a perfect moment for the Mongolians to assert their claim to independence. On December 29, 1911, the eighth Jebtsundamba Khutuktu declared Mongolia independent from China. As the spiritual leader of the Mongols and a distant successor of Zanabazar, he conveniently installed himself on the throne and took the title Bogd Khan. At that time, the Chinese were far too busy with their own revolution to respond to the events in Mongolia.
However, while the Mongolians deliberated, it was Russia and China that made the decisions and plotted the future of Mongolia
As a Tibetan, the Bogd Khan of Mongolia wanted to make his country a guiding nation for his own Tibet, which had stagnated in the Middle Ages, according to Batmunkh. However, while the Mongolians deliberated, it was Russia and China that made the decisions. Together, they plotted the future of Mongolia. In 1913, Tsarist Russia imposed a treaty on the Bogd Khan that made Mongolia an independent region of China. Then, with perfect timing, China invaded Mongolia in 1919. At that moment, the Russians were far too busy with their own revolution to respond to the events in Mongolia.
However, in 1921, the Bolsheviks picked up the Mongolian thread where the tsar had left it and, with the help of the unfortunate Sükhbaatar, definitively showed the Chinese the door. Immediately, the curtain fell on the political power of the Bogd Khan. Until his death in 1924, he would only exercise a degree of religious influence.
Winter Palace of Bogd Khan – Gatehouse of the temple complex
In the meantime, we have arrived at the grand gate that provides access to the walled temple complex next to the Winter Palace. Because if you are a jebtsundamba, you should have your own temple within reach. We learn that photography is permitted, provided you pay the astronomical amount of 50 000 tugrik, or 27 euros.
Entrance gate to the temple complex
In front, a high, intricately carved wall made of blue stones blocks the entrance. This is a yampai, which prevents evil spirits from entering the temple. Batmunkh points out the allegory of Thunpa Punshi, the Four Harmonious Friends, on one of the doors of the grand gate. This fable from the Kanjur is well known among Buddhists. It tells the story of an elephant, a monkey, a rabbit, and a partridge, each of which individually fails to pluck an apple from a tree. Only by working together do they succeed – forming a living pyramid as a group.
Guardian god with rat (right) |
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Thunpa Punshi – The Four Harmonious Friends |
The temple complex has two inner courtyards, with three main temples aligned along the central axis, and two side temples on either side. The buildings were constructed between 1893 and 1903, all made of wood without using a single nail, Batmunkh emphasises. However, the wood has significantly weathered over time, and the colours are faded and sometimes barely visible. Who knows, we console ourselves, our photo money may soon be used for a restoration.
Rats are known for their ability to gather and hoard
At the entrance, the four guardian deities of the Buddha scrutinise every visitor sternly. One of them cradles a rat in his left hand. This is the god of wealth – rats are known for their ability to gather and hoard.
Winter Palace of Bogd Khan – Temple on the north side
The western side temple is adorned with beautiful silk thangkas. Prominently featured is the image of Tsongkhapa, the great reformer – known as Zonkhov in Mongolia. In Tibet, this monk founded the Gelug or Yellow Hat order in the 14th century, opposing the decadent Red Hats, who increasingly indulged in money, alcohol, and women. This situation is somewhat analogous to Luther’s stand against the decadence within the Catholic Church in Europe during the same period. In Tibet, this led to a power struggle between the Red Hats and Yellow Hats, ultimately favouring the latter. In Mongolia, however, it was the government that tipped the scales in favour of the Yellow Hats.
Thangka with Avalokiteshvara |
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Zanabazar – Taras in gilded bronze |
In the temple across, cotton thangkas take centre stage, including one of Avalokiteshvara, the bodhisattva of compassion – known in Mongolia as Migjid Janraisig.
Once again, it is the unparalleled Zanabazar who truly surprises us
Statues in gilded bronze, wood and papier-mâché welcome us in the side temples of the second courtyard. But once again, it is the unparalleled Zanabazar who truly surprises us. A set of twenty-one masterful Taras in gilded bronze, crafted by him, is on display in the grand Lavrin Temple. Each represents a different manifestation of the female bodhisattva.
The actual winter palace
The actual winter palace is built on an adjacent plot, just outside the monastery complex. The large, white building clearly exhibits European features, as it was constructed by a Russian architect during a time when the tsar found it necessary to appease the Mongolian aristocracy.
A sample of faded glory in a musty and somewhat neglected setting is the impression the winter palace leaves on us
Throne of Zanabazar |
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A sample of faded glory in a musty and somewhat neglected setting is the impression the winter palace leaves on us. The centrepiece of the reception room is a throne adorned with semi-precious stones and panels featuring floral motifs. Zanabazar must have once sat there in person. Interestingly, there is a throne with twenty-five stacked cushions, as etiquette dictated. The higher your rank, the more cushions under your rear. Religious garments and ostentatious costumes of the king and queen hang in the dressing room, including a cloak made from the fur of forty foxes. Their respective thrones are present, as well as their beds.
Ceremonial ger of Bogd Khan covered with 150 snow leopard skins |
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Ceremonial ger – Interior |
A whimsical collection of stuffed animals dominates the ground floor – from fish to snakes, monkeys to aardvarks, sloths to penguins, and toucans to macaws. Apparently, the king’s favourite elephant was too large to be mounted, so we have to settle for a photograph. The Bogd Khan was a true lover of animals – at least of dead animals. This is further evidenced by his luxurious ceremonial ger, covered with a canvas made from 150 snow leopard pelts. It nearly makes us feel nauseous.
Ulaanbaatar – Sükhbaatar Square |
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For dinner, we once again head to the bustling Seoul Street, sinking deep into the seats at Buffalo Grill Restaurant. As if we were the Bogd Khan himself, they quickly bring us plenty of cushions. Grilled meat is the specialty here. The large tables have two grills built in, so it seems we’ll be getting hands-on once again. But no, the waiter takes charge, wielding the iron as he skilfully handles the glowing charcoal and hot grills. The meat is cooked right before our eyes, landing gradually on our plates amidst a wide variety of vegetables and accompaniments.
Sükhbaatar Square – Genghis Khan
Monday, July 22 | Ulaanbaatar – Choijin Lama Temple Museum
After our return from Khustain Nuruu National Park, we have just a few hours left before dusk sets in. We don’t need to think for long. Just a stone's throw from the hotel is the Choijin Lama Temple Museum. As the name suggests, it’s a temple that has become a museum, an oasis of tranquillity amid the high-rise buildings of the bustling city.
Choijin Lama Temple Museum |
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Entrance |
Entering the temple complex without facing the stern gazes of the four papier-mâché guardian gods is, of course, unthinkable. Suspicious and stern, they look down at every visitor who enters the complex through the Maharaja Sum.
Zankhan – Entrance
In the Zankhan, the main temple, it is Sakyamuni, the living Buddha, who takes centre stage. Choijin Lama, once the official state oracle and brother of the eighth Bogd Khan, is also prominently depicted, along with the teacher of the Bogd Khan. However, it is the beautiful cham masks and thangkas that steal the show here. Photography is strictly forbidden – an unwavering guard meticulously enforces this rule.
Zankhan – Sakyamuni
Behind the sanctuary, there turns out to be another room. This was once where the oracle sat to make his pronouncements. It seems that the main concern here is to scare every visitor out of their wits. Macabre demons stare back at you, and gruesome depictions of mutilated human bodies adorn the ceiling.
It seems that the main concern here is to scare every visitor out of their wits
Demons in the oracle room
In the western Zuu temple, the classic trio steals the show – Kassapa, Sakyamuni, and Maitreya, representing the Buddhas of the Past, Present, and Future, respectively. On the side walls, the sixteen arhats watch over the scene; these beings are well on their way to enlightenment but still remain a step below the bodhisattvas.
The eastern temple, the Great Hall of Happiness and Virtue, primarily houses gilded statues. To our delight, we discover yet again some jewels crafted by the tireless Zanabazar, including his famous self-portrait with the ritual bell and the thunderbolt – the ghanta and the vajra.
Admittedly, the temple buildings have seen better days; the inner garden is hopelessly overgrown, and the attendants are stern and unyielding. However, we step out through the Maharadja Sum with a sense of satisfaction. The interiors of the temples truly make up for it.
We take a moment to head down to the renowned State Department Store on Peace Avenue. It’s a must when visiting Ulaanbaatar. Here, you can find just about everything that Western supermarkets offer, often garnished with a Mongolian twist.
Globalisation has struck in other parts of Ulaanbaatar as well. You often encounter the same major chains found worldwide. The city may look a bit dusty, showing signs of outdated communist architecture with little pronounced high-rises, but fundamentally, it does not differ much from other capitals. The people strolling through the streets, clad in jeans, colourful dresses, and with smartphones at their ears, have little in common with their fellow countrymen in the steppe. This is not the real Mongolia. The real Mongolia, as we said before, begins at the edge of the city, just twenty minutes away – traffic permitting.
The people strolling through the streets have little in common with their fellow countrymen in the steppe
Batmunkh treats us to the last supper at the Castle restaurant, which is situated in the middle of a pond, right in the heart of the National Amusement Park, Ulaanbaatar’s largest theme park for children. Words of thanks and farewell resonate above the exquisite dishes.
As we stroll from the Castle to the bus, an instrumental version of Auld Lang Syne, the internationally recognised farewell song, plays through the park's speakers, a fitting soundtrack for our departure.
Epilogue | Komen-Waasten (Belgium) – British War Cemetery
It was unavoidable. Here we are, along the Witte weg in Komen-Waasten, Belgium, a few months after visiting Mongolia. It’s a modest British War Cemetery, set in a rural environment, solitary and unobtrusive among the fields and a handful of houses. During the Great War, cemeteries were created wherever there was a high number of dead bodies. Next to a field hospital, for instance.
During the Great War, cemeteries were created wherever there was a high number of dead bodies. Next to a field hospital, for instance
Komen-Waasten – Calvaire (Essex) Military Cemetery
It wasn't even difficult for us to find the grave of Gerald Charles Binsteed, the lieutenant of the British army whose black-and-white photographs surprised us at the National Museum of Ulaanbaatar. Killed in action at Le Gheer, Belgium, on April 8, 1915, we read in his short biography. This is an inconspicuous spot south of Ypres, in a district of Komen-Waasten.
Logically, this must also be the area where he was buried. The Commonwealth War Graves Commission can provide confirmation on that. They manage about 23 300 military cemeteries worldwide, spread across more than 150 countries. The dedication and care with which they do this are legendary.
On their website, they don't mince words. Find War Dead is the rather grim task you can undertake. In no time, Binsteed appears among the more than 1,7 million fallen. His final resting place is the Calvaire (Essex) Military Cemetery, a small cemetery with 218 graves along the Witte Weg in Komen-Waasten. With incredible attention to detail, they provide a photo of the cemetery, the exact GPS coordinates, directions, and even a layout showing the arrangement of the graves.
A walled site, uniform gravestones, a Cross of Sacrifice, a Stone of Remembrance
The clouds lay their grey blanket low over the chilly landscape, creating the perfect misty atmosphere. The cemetery is designed according to the standard template used for Commonwealth military cemeteries worldwide – a walled site, uniform gravestones, a Cross of Sacrifice, a Stone of Remembrance. The flowerbeds are meticulously maintained, and the grass is immaculate. The gravestones are made of soft sandstone, their surface feeling rough and allowing green moss to easily take hold, unlike the beautifully polished granite or marble gravestones found in more prestigious cemeteries along the Ypres Salient, such as Tyne Cot Cemetery or Bedford House Cemetery.
Plot I, Row L, Grave 1. With a copy of the cemetery layout in hand, we search for the stone. On the gravestone, we read Major G. C. Binsteed MC, Essex Regiment, 8th April 1915, Age 30. Apparently, the former lieutenant was killed in action as a captain and has been posthumously promoted to the rank of major. At the bottom of the gravestone is a cross, signifying his faith – a final wish of his family.
Gravestone of Gerald Charles Binsteed (1885 – 1915)
Standing by the gravestone, we reflect on Mongolians, Brits, Flemish, and their wars. Thirty million deaths were the cost of the Mongolian conquests – 17 % of the world’s population at that time. Seventeen million deaths were counted in the Great War, of which seven million were civilians – about 1 % of the world’s population then.
But it seems we cannot escape it either. Just like the Mongolians, we honour supposed war heroes
Out of a sense of national pride, the Mongols still glorify those brutal conquests. We have repeatedly taken offense at this. But it seems we cannot escape it either. Just like the Mongolians, we honour supposed war heroes. The fact that Douglas Haig, the Butcher of the Somme and the driving force behind the most senseless Third Battle of Ypres, still lends his name to Haig Avenue in Ypres is just one example of this.
Jaak Palmans
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