Abrupt departure? – NGO is against visa extension

Day: 276

Sunrise:
06:05

Sunset:
20:36

Total kilometers:
1341

Soil condition:
Ice, snow

Temperature – Day (maximum):
2°C

Temperature – day (minimum):
minus 6°C

Temperature – Night:
minus 25°C

Latitude:
51°33’337”

Longitude:
099°15’341”

Maximum height:
1981 m above sea level

The night was terribly cold again at minus 25 °C. Because the snow melts during the day and penetrates the ground, it freezes at night. Our sleeping mats and felt blanket are still lying on bare ice. Not even the Deel, which we have placed on top of the mats as an additional carpet pad, seems to help. Shivering, we get up to go about our daily routine.

I’m spooning up my fresh grain porridge, which after all these months is getting on my nerves to say the least, when Tsaya and Ultsan push their way through the low entrance to our tipi. As they appear in pairs at this time of day, we immediately realize that something is in the bush or, in this case, in the ice. “Is there any news?” I ask. “Yes. We’ve just decided to set off. “What? Despite the bad weather? Okay. Well, that’s wonderful,” I say. “Yes, we think so too. So it’s good if you start packing straight away. We leave at 1 p.m. at the latest,” says Tsaya, whereupon I almost choke on the fresh grain porridge I’ve just shoved into my mouth. “At 1 p.m.? Oh man! That’s in three hours!” I say, dropping my spoon into the bowl. “Yes, all the men are in agreement. We’ll just get our reindeer that are feeding in the forest and off we go.” “That’s not possible. Our Naraa can’t do it,” Tanja objects. “Denis and Bilgee can go on the first trip together. Then you’ll know where the camp is and can join Naraa later,” says Tsaya. Then our neighbors get up and hurry to their baishin to start packing.

“Oh dear. First they can’t decide to go for weeks and then they make their decision within minutes. Someone should be able to figure out the Tuwa,” moans Tanja. “You’d best go to Bilgee immediately and inform him. Tell him to bring the horses as quickly as possible. I’ll start dismantling the equipment here,” I suggest, whereupon Tanja slips into her Deel and hurries out of the tepee. As soon as it is gone, the input material rises again. “Uh, Denis?” says Tsaya as her head pops out from under the linen. “Yes?” “False alarm. We’re not leaving until tomorrow.” “What, not until tomorrow? Tanja is already on her way to let Bilgee know.” “Then text her.” “Tsaya, there’s no cell phone reception down there in the clearing,” I reply, slipping into a jacket and hurrying after Tanja. She is talking to Bilgee when I come trudging up. “False alarm. It starts tomorrow,” I say. “Can’t they ever make up their minds?” asks Tanja, almost relieved. “It looks like it. There’s no time in Mongolia and especially not with the Tuwa,” I say.

“Bilgee has even decided to leave today. Naraa is still far too weak. Besides, the back and forth is getting on his nerves. Maybe he can’t hear the word anymore,” Tanja tells us as we trudge back to camp. “We could have left Naraa behind.” “Yes, then I would have had to look after her all day and no one would have been in camp if she had fallen into a ditch again. I’ll never get her out on my own. That’s not a good solution,” Tanja replies. “I know. But what were we supposed to do?” “Spring camp is turning out to be a real challenge,” she replies. “Who would have thought? We should now think about how to organize it tomorrow. Naraa should definitely stay here. That means you have to look after her despite all the risks. I’ll take some of the equipment to the spring camp with Bilgee and track the route with the GPS. We’ll set up the big tent there, put everything inside and ride back the same day. Then you won’t be alone for long, we’ll know where the camp is and we can take our time until Naraa is fit again,” I suggest. “Exactly, that’s how we do it. A good plan,” says Tanja.

I check the situation again in the late afternoon. “So, are there any changes of mind? Or are we actually leaving tomorrow?” “Gamba, Ovogdorj and Tso are going on their first luggage trip tomorrow. We’re staying. Friday is a bad day for us. We’ll ride on Saturday or Sunday. It depends,” explains Tsaya. “What, Friday is a bad day? What do you mean?” I ask again, puzzled. “Every family has a bad travel day. And each one might be different. Ours is Friday. We won’t move under any circumstances. But that’s no problem for you. You can follow the others.” “They’ll wait for us. Reindeer are relatively fast. I don’t know if we can keep up with our heavily laden horses,” I object. “You can follow the tracks.” “If there’s still snow everywhere, yes. Otherwise, it might not be easy to follow the tracks. Especially if it’s over rock,” I reply, wondering how this new challenge can be overcome. After a conversation with Bilgee, I manage to convince him to ask Gamba what the path is like. We learn that Gamba went on his first luggage trip yesterday morning and won’t be back until this evening. “I’ll ride into camp at 7 p.m. and talk to him,” promises our horseman, with whom I’ve become friends. A feeling that doesn’t come to me so quickly and therefore means something very special.

“The path is no problem. We can find it without the Tuwa,” I hear the positive news. Nevertheless, I decide to ride with the Tuwa tomorrow so that I can document the procession photographically. At least that is the plan.

In the course of the evening we hear that another reindeer has been born. Unfortunately, it was eaten by one of the dogs during the night. It was allegedly stillborn. “We noticed it on the mother’s nipples. They were still hard.” “And that’s how you can tell a stillbirth?” I ask incredulously. “Yes.” As I now trust the always hungry camp dogs to do anything, I could very well imagine that they simply ate the poor thing during the night. But the Tuwa don’t seem to want to hear anything about it, so I leave it at that and don’t ask any more questions.

NGO is against visa extension

Before we settle down in the cold tent for the night, we get one of the rare cell phone contacts with Saraa. Suddenly she can no longer guarantee our visa extension. The members of the NGO suddenly decided against it. Because all the applications had already been completed and submitted and the immigration authorities accepted our extension but told us not to stamp it until at least seven days before expiry, we cannot understand Saraa’s statement. We are sure that there is something Mongolian in the bush again. Later we learn the flimsy reasons. Sraaa has been nominated for a local political office. The NGO members are critical of this and want to oust her as their chairwoman. It is said that she cannot be politically active and run a social project at the same time. Apart from that, she is accused of corruption. “Tanja and Denis are your people. You do business with them that has nothing to do with the NGO,” is one of the accusations. Well, we can’t deny that Saraa has already earned quite a lot of money for her help to us. But that’s another matter and is their private affair. As people in Mongolia are often very jealous of each other and don’t necessarily begrudge each other anything, the NGO members simply overlooked our commitment. The membership fees we paid for the NGO, the prison windows we paid for, the donation for a child with cancer, the sunglasses campaign for Tuva and much more was simply swept under the carpet and lost in the intrigue surrounding the chairmanship of a charity organization. In the meantime, I am critical of such NGOs and some aid organizations. They are often used for personal adulation, to satisfy one’s own ego or to gallantly line one’s own pockets. Especially in countries like Mongolia or other structurally weak countries, donations regularly disappear. Suddenly politicians are driving big cars that don’t match their salaries. Suddenly, the masterminds and organizers of such aid organizations are living in nice houses. Often it’s not about helping those in need, but about looking good yourself. Unfortunately, such NGOSs and aid organizations are misused as a cover. Those who donate their money there and do not have the time or energy to visit and check the organization with their own eyes should not be surprised if the donation simply disappears and does not arrive where it is supposed to. But I also realize that it is impossible to follow the path of his donation. After all, you should also trust. But this is precisely what is sometimes misused. A vicious circle that apparently belongs to us humans like the sunrise and sunset belong to our mother earth. However. After a further discussion, 62% of the NGO members decided in favor of a visa extension after all. Let’s see what that means, since we are in a country where the word or a promise does not have too much meaning. A country where nothing and yet everything works.

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