Mongolia Begins.

Typical of anytime I have travelled, I had done little planning and figured it would all just work out. It normally does. I had travelled a fair bit- how different could this be?

It turns out very different. Ulaanbataar, Mongolia's capital that is spelt a million different ways, is a mess caught between it's release from Soviet clutches and recent explosion into the modern era, fuelled by a resources boom. Chaotic traffic, including the odd Hummer and stores such as the ever painful Louis Vuitton, mixed with cold, concrete squares and Soviet architecture. All of this occurs under the watchful eye of the revered Chinggis Khan, who appears in many forms from statues to vodka bottles. 

Yet passed the grey boundaries of the city are the Steppes. This is what I flew into. Green, undulating hills without a tree in site. Small enclaves of 2-3 Gers, the white circular tents symbolic of Mongolia's nomadic existence. Also, yaks. These animals have now hit my top five greatest animals ever. I apologise for the times I have inadvertently eaten you while here. Alongside the great yet bashful yak roam goats, sheep, cows and of course, wild horses.

My friend, Leah, bussed up from out bush (out steppe sounds wrong) and met me at the airport with a wealth of Mongolian treats. We rode into UB through traffic without road rules with Ganbat, the taxi driver who would soon become my invaluable guide to the city. I hadn't seen Leah for four years, since leaving Darwin for the thriving metropolis of Adelaide to start med school. She has been living in Mongolia on and off for four years. Leah forms half of Leah and Andrew, a couple that undertakes some of the wildest travel in the world. I have spent the last few years looking at their travel photos online, which acted as a major catalyst for coming to Mongolia.

Over the next day or so, Leah introduced me to a few of her mates over beers and vodka at several UB's wealth of night spots. The expats I met living here read like characters in a Kurt Vonnegut book- the French guy that looked after the Yak trade, the Indian journalist that kept it cool, Nigerian soccer players recruited to play for UB. Random barely describes it. After pointing out a few critical sites and supermarkets, Leah left me to me own devices and headed back to the rural town where I would meet her later. 

Battling this mesh of old and new is Mongolia's youth as they look to define their identity in the face of all this crazy. As little kids they ride horses bareback across the Steppes and  yet as they grow, particularly living the UB city life, there is societal pressures that have only really emerge in the last twenty years. I got a bit of glimpse into this on two separate occasions.

After the first round of battles with Immigration, I took my interpreter out for lunch. Dealing with my own immigration is shit, I can only imagine how irritating it must be to have to do it for someone else. My interpreter was a 21 year old UB girl dressed up to the nines and generally delightful. She picked a hipster Indian restaurant in town. Post Hong Kong, I was happy as long as it wasn't dumplings. Sitting and having a chat over bad Indian, I looked across the restaurant at an immaculately groomed woman with a ridiculously smooth face. I hit up my interpreter "so what's the go with plastic surgery in this town?". She looks at me and close her eyes. "Look here" she says, pointing the a fine scar forming the crease of her eyelids. "I had it done when I was nineteen." On further questioning, she revealed that out of six friends, four had the same operation, the other two didn't need it. She went on to describe the surgery undertaken by Mongolia's wealthier folks- botox, collagen, breasts implants. Nose surgery also features on many young girls agenda. "Anyone with a really defined bridge of their nose has had surgery," added my interpreter, "many girls want it." Streaming on Mongolian TV, South Korean music videos show young pop stars with faces that impossibly combine the mainstream ideas of Caucasian and Asian beauty. As Mongolian continues to become wealthier and more western culture floods in, it will be interesting to watch how these young women define  ideas of their own beauty.

My second run in with UB youngins' was through a chance meeting with an Australian documentary maker. Ben spent several years making a doco on hip hop in Mongolia, aptly named "Mongolian Bling". I spent a night out on the town with him and met one of the guys in his film. A  young UB hipster with an air of disinterest and a strong edge of US ghetto to his accent. He spoke of challenges to the local hip hop scene in the face of major international commercial markets. Also mentioned, was the difficult of growing the underground scene and taking it to a broader audience. Suggestion of this hidden UB arts scene is scattered through in street art and whispered mention of underground gigs. 

Mongolia so far has many faces. Exploring it is going to be an adventure.