Czech Government provides charter plane for evacuating Mongolians www.news.mn

Mongolia has planned 14 charter flights in August for repatriating its nationals from pandemic-hit countries. According to L.Munkhtushig, Director General of the Consular Department of the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, some 100 Mongolians stranded in Czech Republic have applied to return home through the International Migration Agency. In other words, not via the Mongolian MFA.

Rio Tinto raises dividend, sees ‘V-shaped’ China recovery www.mining.com

Rio Tinto (NYSE: RIO) said on Wednesday it saw a sharp V-shaped recovery in China as stimulus spurred industrial activity, helping its first-half profit handily beat market expectations.

Mongolia confirms two more COVID-19 cases www.xinhuanet.com

Mongolia confirmed two more COVID-19 cases after 630 tests had been carried out in the last 24 hours, a local health official said on Wednesday.

Where reindeer roam: Life among Mongolia’s nomadic herders www.nationalgeographic.com

I needed out of Ulaanbaatar. Mongolia’s capital city, the coldest national capital on Earth, is choked with coal dust in winter and construction debris in every other season. It was the summer of 2016, and I’d just spent a year there teaching English and chasing stories as a freelance writer. When my fellow teacher Anudari suggested a trip to the taiga, I jumped in her car, no questions asked.

The taiga refers to a vast Siberian forest that spills over the Russian border into Mongolia. The most famous part lies beyond Lake Hövsgöl at the country’s northernmost point. This is where the Tsaatan live. A remote minority group of nomadic reindeer herders, they are often problematically characterized as “mystical,” “untouched,” and even a “lost tribe.” Not to mention “highly photogenic.”

Anudari steered us expertly through Ulaanbaatar’s motionless traffic and onto a rare paved highway. The sky unfurled as we turned west, the landscape falling open in all directions. Anudari chatted excitedly. A Mongolian American, she frequently traveled into the countryside with her family, but she’d always wanted to visit the Tsaatan. This would be a magical experience. The trip of a lifetime.

I was the cynic in the car. The Tsaatan are among Mongolia’s staple travel stories (along with the Altai eagle hunters) because, frankly, herding reindeer through a starry wilderness sounds irresistibly romantic. Plus, the landscape they roam is so inaccessible that any visitor is automatically upgraded to an adventurer. I was uncomfortable with the whole narrative package—the aggrandizement, the paternalism, the implied exploitation. Worst of all, I was secretly thrilled to be going.

Into the taiga
The Tsaatan have herded reindeer through the taiga for centuries, first in their native Tuva—a Russian republic—and then, when borders were redrawn under Soviet influence in 1944, in Mongolia. Only a few hundred still follow the traditional lifestyle, and with search engines opening up the hidden corners of our world, they have become an attraction. Tour companies offer adventure packages to the taiga, where visitors can experience Tsaatan daily life: milking reindeer, making cheese, harvesting pine nuts, and sleeping in traditional teepee-shaped tents, called ortz.

That’s not to say it’s an easy trip. The taiga is remote, even by Mongolian standards. The country is largely roadless and overland travel is time-consuming. The forest itself can be navigated only on horseback. This is one trip where the journey really does outweigh the destination—we would spend eight days, traveling for two days, with the Tsaatan.

A few days of driving brought us to the dust-and-plywood town of Mörön, where we secured a driver, a guide, and provisions and arranged for horses to meet us at the forest’s edge, all for $150 per person. We were not asked if we knew how to ride. Most questions concerned weight—our own and our overpacked bags. Mongolian horses are small and can carry only around 200 pounds. They’re half wild from fending for themselves on the steppe. They respond to one command: tchoo. It means “go faster.”

I had another two days to ponder my minimal riding experience as we drove north from Mörön. It was pouring rain, and our battered van sloshed over waves of mud while I huddled in the back, pretending not to be seasick.

The sky cleared to blue as we lurched up to the taiga. The forest began abruptly, a wall of pine and larch. Our Tsaatan host, Delgermagnai Enkhbaatar, was waiting with the horses.

Although there was snow on the nearby mountains, our route was mostly swamp. The horses staggered through the bog like drunks. After hours negotiating mud slicks and churning rivers, we arrived at camp in darkness.

A lake mirrored the rising moon. Reindeer stood spindly-legged around the family’s ortz. The sky was streaked with shooting stars.

Rats, I thought. This just might be a little bit magical.

“The Tsaatan are not an ‘undiscovered tribe,’” admonished the herding community’s website. Yes, they know of websites (though theirs is currently off-line). And Tsaatan means “people with reindeer” in Mongolian—not their native language. The herders call themselves Dukha.

“You will not be the first or last person they have hosted,” the website continued. “They are a modern people who have welcomed visitors from all over the world.”

We had passed a few of these visitors on our ride to Enkhbaatar’s camp, their nylon jackets vivid against the darkening forest. Our guides greeted each other warmly. The foreigners exchanged tight little nods, each regarding the other as interlopers. Then we rode on, pretending the encounter hadn’t happened.

Once at camp, it became apparent that the only lost tribe in the taiga was us tourists. We had armed ourselves against physical remoteness with maps and GPS, but there was no app for cultural dislocation.

This wasn’t just embarrassing but potentially dangerous. The taiga is not a forgiving landscape. Hypothermia was a real possibility, even in August. Enkhbaatar had bear and wolf teeth among his carved trinkets, and the Russian border police stopped by looking for escaped convicts. The sheer scale of the wilderness felt threatening; the only way in or out was on horseback through trackless marsh. I became uncomfortably aware that, for all my travel knowledge, I brought nothing useful to the experience besides a can-do attitude.

Meanwhile Enkhbaatar’s family was clearly at home with both their ways and ours. The kids knew how to swipe through smartphone apps and shake a Polaroid until the image emerged. They were delighted with the toy cars we brought and made vroom vroom noises while pushing them up the poles of the family ortz. Most of their play, however, mimicked the adults’ work—making fires, fetching water, tending the animals.

On the second day, Enkhbaatar offered to take us riding into the eastern Sayan Mountains. He prepped the reindeer while his toddler attempted to saddle up the family dog with an old blanket.

I hoisted myself clumsily onto my mount, and Enkhbaatar demonstrated how to steer with the single guide rope. We were interrupted by a strange sound: a “Für Elise” ring tone. Without a word, Enkhbaatar handed the rope to his child and disappeared into the ortz.

“Baina uu?” I heard him answer the phone. My own cell hadn’t picked up a signal for days.

Abruptly I realized I had no clue how to ride this reindeer. If it bolted, I’d be halfway to Siberia before Enkhbaatar returned. I looked down at the 18-month-old holding my reins.

Storytelling is reflective. The words we choose to describe the Tsaatan—mystical, lost, exploited, endangered—imply our own roles in the story as well. Are we bold adventurers, self-righteous skeptics, or maybe just the comic relief? I returned from the taiga with this conundrum on my mind. Several years on, I still think about it every time I write a story.

Lately, though, I’ve been remembering that trip for other reasons—reasons related to claustrophobia. The coronavirus pandemic has compressed life to fit inside walls and screens, and I’m longing for the boundless space of the Mongolian countryside. Right now that’s an impossible dream: In an effort to keep out the virus, Mongolia has been closed to international travel since March. I’m glad. Roughly a third of Mongolians are nomadic herders like Enkhbaatar. They’re a long ride from medical care.

I admit my memories of the trip are romantic, maybe even magical. I remember the taste of reindeer-milk tea, and the pale, chilled mornings when camel-wool long johns weren’t enough to keep me from shivering. The slidey-wobbly feel of riding a saddled reindeer. The night sky shimmering yellow as a full moon rose. I remember Enkhbaatar’s wife laughing at my knife skills as we cooked and the kids dogpiling me for piggyback rides. Enkhbaatar’s smile as we parted, telling us to come back again sometime.

That toddler at the end of my rope must be nearly old enough to start school now. She won’t remember me or any of the travelers who visited her family that summer. Yet I wonder how she would have described us, the mysterious here-and-gone strangers so out of touch that we didn’t know how the bathroom worked. Possibly she would choose some of the same words we used, ahead of our trip, for her family. I’m reasonably sure one of them would be “lost.”

Erin Craig is a freelance writer based in Asia.

Mongolia extends heightened state of readiness until end of August www.xinhuanet.com

Mongolia on Tuesday decided to extend the country's heightened state of readiness until Aug. 31 amid the COVID-19 pandemic.

SEC suggests to reopen schools, kindergartens on September 1, cabinet to make final decision www.montsame.mn

Ulaanbaatar /MONTSAME/. At its meeting held on July 28, the State Emergency Commission (SEC) discussed the issues regarding the extension of the period of the heightened state of readiness for disaster protection amid COVID-19 pandemic and re-opening of all levels of educational institutions.

Mongolia, South Korea to pay more attention on workforce-related issues www.montsame.mn

Ulaanbaatar /MONTSAME/. On July 28, Minister of Labor and Social Protection A.Ariunzaya held a meeting with Ambassador Extraordinary and Plenipotentiary of the Republic of Korea to Mongolia Lee Yeo-hong to discuss measures being taken by the Government of Mongolia with aims of getting through the economic challenges caused by the COVID-19 pandemic, partnership opportunities within the framework of countermeasures during the pandemic, and the matter of social protection and employment of Mongolian citizens living in the South Korea.

Mongolia plans second direct flight to Seattle www.news.mn

The US. Embassy in Ulaanbaatar has reported that the Mongolian Government plans to operate a diplomatic flight to Seattle, Washington on 3 August 2020. Seats are available on this flight for foreign citizens who wish to leave Mongolia.

ADB pledges to provide additional USD 1.5 million aid to Mongolia www.montsame.mn

Ulaanbaatar /MONTSAME/ With the aim of supporting Mongolia's fight against COVID-19 pandemic, the Asian Development Bank (ADB) has granted non-refundable aid of USD 1 million to Mongolia.

Mining Mongolia: what potential does this land-locked country hold? www.mining-technology.com

Mongolia recently cancelled an executive order to fund the giant Tavan Tolgoi coal project through an international initial public offering (IPO), blaming political problems and unfavourable financial markets. Instead, the country is to self-fund the project, with expectations to finish it in three to four years. Such a situation is typical for the country that, though it is said to have billions of dollars’ worth of mineral wealth, has consistently struggled to capture international investors. We report.

The east Asian nation of Mongolia has been striving to tap into its potentially lucrative mining sector for years. According to its government, mineral resources in the region could be worth up to $1.3tn, yet a historically hostile investment climate, due to anti-investment laws and a volatile policy framework, has put pressure on the country’s economy and consistently caused foreign interest to dwindle.

The decision to self-fund transport links for the Tavan Tolgoi coal mine is just the latest in a long-running struggle to attract investors in an unforgiving economic landscape. But what other obstacles is mining facing in this country? And can anything be done to change this?

Tavan Tolgoi is Mongolia’s second largest mining investment following Rio Tinto’s copper-gold mine Oyu Tolgoi, and according to its website, the project has estimated coal reserves of around seven billion tonnes – more than a third of which is high-grade hard coking coal. Yet despite the deposit’s significant size, the recent IPO is only the latest in a series of false starts to take the mine to the next stage. Previous attempts fell through in 2011 and 2015, when the Mongolian parliament blocked an agreement with a group of foreign firms, citing high development costs.

Given the lack of existing transport infrastructure in the area, the latest IPO was intended to raise funds for a new railway to take the coal to China and other international markets. Securing this link was also hoped to lower transport costs and improve the country’s overall competitiveness, with Erdenes Tavan Tolgoi (the state-owned company that holds the license to the deposit) saying that mining capacity could be increased ‘between two- and three-fold’ with the new rail link.
Speaking with Byambajav Dalaibuyan, founder and advisor at the Mongolian Institute for Innovative Policies, he says that the necessity to rely on self-funding for such projects stems from internal political instability, and a lack of assertive action from the government. However, a recent parliamentary election is hoped to afford more stability on this front.

“Mongolia’s recent constitutional amendments should improve political stability and the incumbent MPP’s supermajority in parliament,” he says. “Prime Minister Khureksukh’s strong leadership will likely result in consistent policy on mining and investment. The question is whether the government will increase its involvement in managing mining projects or not.”

The need to turn away once more from public investment opportunities may have given the country bad press, yet the health of Mongolia’s mining sector does not appear to be in jeopardy.

Given Mongolia’s history as an agricultural society, there are some who have voiced fears over mining’s impact on this lifestyle – particularly in its use of land and water traditionally needed for pastoral purposes. A 2016 paper on the matter identified the impact on herder lifestyles as a particular area of concern, with around 30% of Mongolians currently living as herders and ‘relying on animal husbandry as their primary livelihood source’.

Yet speaking with Bruce Harvey, an expert in global community relations policy and practice at social enterprise group Sirolli, he says that many are in fact embracing the blossoming minerals sector.

“Mongolia is coming out of being dependent on pastoralism, which is a tough tough life,” he says. “A lot of Mongolian families have done absolutely everything possible to get their children off the land because it’s grim and it’s hard.”

According to Encyclopædia Britannica, Mongolia has rich deposits of coal and fluorite, as well as copper, gold, silver, and other metallic ores. The presence of such resources, in addition to a perceived necessity to keep up with changing times, led to rapid mining development in certain areas.

Erdenet (in Orkhon) and Oyu Tolgoi (in Umnugovi) are the two current primary mining regions, where industrialisation has had a proven beneficial economic effect. Both areas report significantly higher salaries, lower loan rates, and higher rates of education than other rural election districts, making the case for further industrialisation.

Yet while mining provides some economic and employment opportunities for those in the region, instances of malpractice still destabilise those remaining herders.

“Some miners are behaving very poorly and appropriating land without talking to the herders,” says Harvey. “These herders don’t have any ownership rights, they only have customary grazing rights. We also see a lot of informal mining for gold which can also destroy hundreds of acres of pastoral country. So there is certainly tension between this old and new way of life.”

Resolving such internal conflicts is thus a necessity in Mongolia’s mining development, particularly if it is to prove attractive to potential investors.

Room for improvement?
Speaking with Dalaibuyan, he says that the country’s mining sector needs to pay greater attention to sustainable practice, and to improving land rehabilitation following operation closures.

“Generally, environmental and social impact assessment and management in many mining areas is not adequate,” he says. “For instance, the impacts of coal mining and transportation from Tavan Tolgoi’s state-owned mines on the environment and local communities have not been assessed and managed adequately.”

Indeed, improving the relationship between miners and local communities has been highlighted elsewhere as a necessity to progressing the industry. A post by the University of British Columbia said that local communities ‘feel that they do not benefit’ from mining, and distributing revenue to local areas was identified as a key way of addressing this issue. This solution is one echoed by Dalaibuyan.

“By law, local host communities should receive a share of the revenue [that] mining companies paid to the government, but this has not been implemented,” he says. “Agreements between developers and local governments have been a good mechanism for building trust and having positive contributions to local development, but they are not widely used by companies.”

In addition, he says that good governance of state owned mining companies, comprehensive legal frameworks, and social and environmental safeguards are all avenues through which mining in the country could be improved.

While the recent IPO withdrawal may build the perception that Mongolia is an unappealing mining destination, the wealth of deposits and successes of projects such as Oye Tolgoi show the country has much to offer this sector. In cementing sustainable practice and transport links, Mongolia may be overcoming the final hurdle in eroding this outdated reputation.