The path of the jade

Day: 196-207

Sunrise:
08:55/08:36

Sunset:
18:17/18:37

Total kilometers:
1281

Soil condition:
Ice, snow

Temperature – Day (maximum):
minus 10°C

Temperature – day (minimum):
minus 28°C

Temperature – Night:
minus 39°C

Latitude:
51°33’336”

Longitude:
099°15’341”

Maximum height:
1981 m above sea level

Since Tsaya told the camp residents that I once completed my training as a mechanic and technician, they come and fetch me when any of the few pieces of equipment they have break down. However, they usually bring their broken appliances directly to the yurt. “What have you got with you today?” I ask Saintsetseg, who brings me another object that is obviously broken. She shyly shows me her flashlight and turns the crank attached to it to charge it. “Muu” (“Bad”), she says, as no light can be generated despite cranking hard. “Let’s see what I can do,” I say and dismantle the important piece of equipment for her. I quickly discover two broken cables and solder them back on with my gas soldering iron. Half an hour later, the lamp is working again. “Tschin setgeleesee bajrlalaa”, (“Thank you very much”) she says happily, laughs with relief and repeatedly gives me her thumbs up. “It’s a pleasure if I can help you,” I reply. My good reputation also reaches the shaman Gamba, who fetches me to watch his old black and white television. “The picture flickers incessantly. We can no longer watch our beloved Korean drama,” he explains. “That’s bad, of course. Let’s see what I can do for you.” I discover a small adjustment wheel on the back wall with which the picture can be fixed. “So now you can enjoy your favorite show again without the flickering,” I say kindly. “Tschin setgeleesee bajrlalaa,” he says happily.

Among other things, this is how I fix Monkoo’s 12-volt charger for her new sanctuary, which she only recently received as a gift. She immediately switches on her cell phone and plays a Mongolian pop song. Mokoo laughs heartily and is as happy as a little child. “It’s nice how little it takes to make a person happy,” says Tanja.

“Knock! Knock!” Tsaya shouts in front of our yurt in the evening. “Come in!” we reply. As always when Ultsan is in camp, he sits down on the folding stool. Tsaya sits down next to him on one of our two popular wooden chairs. “Coffee or tea?” asks Tanja as usual, even though she knows how much they both love the black drink. After a brief chat about the weather and today’s schedule, I continue my conversation from last night. “We talked about the jade finds. There seem to be large deposits?” “Yes, there are indeed. The jade is the reason we were late. We wanted to combine building the fence with searching for the stones and rode to a place where there was jade. Unfortunately, the stones were so frozen in the ground that we couldn’t get them out without tools. We were forced to turn back without having achieved anything.” “But you did find this gemstone?” “Whatever you call it. A few hours’ ride from the place where the jade is stuck in the ground like concrete, there is a huge mountain that seems to be made of jade. Many Mongolians work there to mine it. After our failure, we rode to the jade mountain. We lost many days, which we actually needed to build the fence, but we wanted to try our luck. I’m sure you can understand that?” he asks us with a smile. “You bet we understand,” I reply. “Well,” he says and pauses. “When we arrived at the treasure mountain, we faced a similar problem. You need massive tools to break the jade out of the mountain. But we don’t have any expensive mining equipment and it’s not possible to transport it there with reindeer. The Mongols, on the other hand, are well equipped. With their equipment, they are able to break large chunks of jade out of the massif. We only took what was waste for them. But it’s still worth a lot.”

“How many Mongolians are working on this mountain in these dreadful temperatures?” I ask. “There are probably between 40 and 50 men at the moment. In spring and summer, of course, there are many more.” “And some of the men have hired your reindeer to transport the jade?” “Tijmee.” “Are the precious stones only transported by reindeer from the taiga?” “Oh no. Most Mongolians use horses for this. A reindeer can carry a maximum of 80 kilograms. A horse, on the other hand, can carry 150 kg. In summer even up to 200 kg.” “200 kilos of load on a single horse? That’s the average load of a camel,” I interject. “Yes. Some horses are ridden to exhaustion on these transports.” “When you think of the hardships you and the Mongolian jade seekers have to endure, it seems to be really profitable?” “In the meantime, yes. But it depends on the quality. For poor quality they pay us 5,000 tugrik (€2.85) per kg. For good quality up to 20,000 tugrik.” (€11.42) “Who decides whether the quality is good or bad?” I ask. “The buyer.” “And he’s cheating you through and through?” “I think so. We’re not able to tell good quality from bad. We just have to rely on what the buyer says. So far, however, we haven’t found a trustworthy person and are keeping some of the stones for ourselves for now.” “A wise decision. I think the price will continue to rise. We’ve been told that jade has become quite scarce on the world market.” “You can assume that. We only discovered jade seven years ago. In the first year, we were only paid 1,000 tugrik (€0.57) per kg. In the meantime, many people are hunting for the gemstone. In Ulan Bator, a kilo of good jade is even worth 100,000 tugrik (€57).” “100,000 tugrik for a kilo. That’s a fortune. Why is there such a big difference between Tsagaan Nuur and Ulan Bator?” “It’s probably because of all the bribes that have to be paid to get the stones to Ulan Bator. That’s also the reason why jade is usually transported at night. Although it’s at night that most of the police check the four-wheel drive buses and keep their hands out. But the biggest hurdle is said to be the large checkpoints on the arterial roads of Ulan Bator. If the stone is to get through there, it will certainly have to be heavily lubricated.” “Is it not allowed to transport jade?” “Yes, it is. But it’s not legal to mine it. I’m sure it also involves tax money that has to be paid. I don’t know.” “So it’s good business for the police,” I say thoughtfully, which leads to a few minutes of silence.

“That means the jade passes through many hands until it reaches Ulan Bator. Then it’s another 800 kilometers to the Chinese border. I would be interested to know how much jade costs in Shanghai? Another journey of 2,000 to 3,000 kilometers. By the time it reaches its destination and the jade cutting factories in China and Japan, it will be worth a real fortune. Once the stone has been processed into jewelry, it is sold all over the world. No wonder real jade, especially white jade, is so expensive in Europe,” I continue my thoughts. “Certainly. But there are also Mongolians who get rich from the stones.” I know someone who has become a Tugrik millionaire. He discovered several tons of very good jade and transported them to Tsagaan Nuur in two four-wheel-drive trucks. Now he lives in a nice house, owns a car and all the other luxuries you need to be happy.” “But you would never give up your lifestyle here for luxury and consumption. Wouldn’t you?” I ask. “Never. But it would still be nice if we had more money. That would give us greater independence and, of course, freedom.”

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