Sixth Section: Stories from the Tse Pub 2.0

Back in the Guesthouse in UB, the Nepalese approached us the next morning and explained that someone had tampered with his suitcase and stolen his watch and $100. We all started searching our things to see if anything else was missing, and it turned out that Simon was missing his payment from his last gig (20,000 Tugrik), as well as a pair of headphones and €30. After realizing that several things were missing and Simon, who had been at the hostel all day, had not seen any strangers, suspicion fell on the 15-year-old receptionist. Despite not speaking a word of English, he realized that we were whispering about him, and he became increasingly uncomfortable, which culminated in a, probably panic attack-induced, collapse where he stopped breathing. This had two consequences: first, panic, as none of us knew Mongolian to call an ambulance, so an English-speaking passerby outside the Guesthouse had to call an ambulance for us. Second, certainty, as the panic attack resembled a confession. After several increasingly angry phone calls with the hostel's owner, asking her to fulfill her responsibility and come to the Guesthouse, to which she dodged with the excuse that her daughter had to do homework, Marie managed to convince her that she had to do something at least. So she sent her husband to the Guesthouse after work. Since it looked like a crime scene, she instructed us to close the doors and windows, and bam! We were locked in the hostel for the next almost three hours. However, the owner's husband, who was a police officer and also the boy's uncle, resolved the whole matter commendably. Everyone got their things back, or, if they had already been sold, they received money for replacements, which I was quite happy about because I wasn't really into used headphones. The boy had actually stolen our things a week earlier without any of us having the slightest idea. The "landlady" assured us how sorry the boy's family was and that they had even sold their motorcycle to replace the things, so everyone got a guilty conscience in addition to their things for free, for taking a motorcycle from a poor nomad family. In retrospect, one could have noticed that the boy had a new haircut, a new pair of Jordans, and other new clothes within a week, but never mind. Poor Sergi, whom we were supposed to meet that evening, sat in the Tse Pub for a couple of hours, waiting for the three Germans, who were rarely punctual.

The next evening was also related to the Tse Pub. This time, however, as the first stop and not the last like the day before. We just wanted to have a quick dinner and met Sergi there with a group consisting of an American, a Belgian, and two Mongolians. One thing led to another after dinner, and after a lot of vodka, we decided to go to a Mongolian rave in the last dive bar. When we arrived, there were about 40 people in a small club, and hard techno was blasting from the speakers, so far so good. The problems arose on the way home. At around 5, the club closed, and we headed home, with me already mentally in bed, I took Sergi's rain jacket next to my inner jacket, which Marie noticed halfway. So we went back to the club, where we found Sergi standing in front of the closed door as the last person. (Why he was standing there, he doesn't really know himself) At first, Sergi denied that it was his jacket, but he enjoyed the "coincidentally" perfect fit. The three of us went back into the club (the bouncer opened the door for us again) and looked for my jacket there and strangely enough, also in the backstage. Then we left disappointed without the jacket. The resolution of the story was that my jacket was in the hostel and I hadn't brought it with me, and Sergi realized at home in front of the mirror that the jacket fit so perfectly because it was actually his.

The next day, we were supposed to go to the National Park and spend a night there with a borrowed tent and visit the great Djinghis Khan statue. Unfortunately, our first attempt to get there failed, as the bus didn't show up even after two hours of waiting. When we returned to the Guesthouse, we had to admit that despite our big announcement and a total of three hours of absence, we didn't make it further than across the street to the bus stop. The second attempt failed just as unpretentiously as the first one because we were too exhausted from our wild party night. So we didn't go to the National Park, but it wasn't such a big deal either, as we could fill the time in UB very well.

In UB, we particularly liked the Gandan Monastery with its huge golden Buddha statue, which impressed us so much that we went through the giant gates into the incense-scented building with its countless drums and Buddha figures twice in a row. The Bodgh Khan's Summer Palace was also very fascinating. Bodgh Khan lived in the early 20th century, was quite a drunkard, and the head of Buddhism in Mongolia, making him a politically significant person in the country. He tried to make Mongolia independent from China, and in doing so, he was exploited by Russia, which wanted to gain independent Mongolia as part of the Soviet Union.

Also worth seeing is the small but fine Dinosaur Museum, which I really wanted to see after the disappointment with the camel dinosaur. A large part of the exhibition has already been translated into English, so you can learn a lot.

In summary, we can say about our experiences in Mongolia that we have met really great people and that the country and its nature are simply beautiful. Many Mongolians have a very warm-hearted nature, and surprisingly, many people in the city can speak English and help you wherever they can. Definitely worth a trip.