Mongolia boasts solitudes, steppes that point to nowhere, horizons softly, where no regrets because both desert, simply, no one. It's like a country induced coma for its barren landscapes, a crossing, the echo of the shepherds, do not stop, perhaps not suddenly feel helplessness.
All that calm contained explodes in the city of Ulaanbaatar. The capital of the country of blue sky spits smoke from factories spitefully. The horn sounds to silence the perpetual wind of the plain, peace of nomads becomes nervous here in traffic, where it occupies all the craving, suddenly.
I've always thought that the Mongols have not yet decided whether to stay with the Soviet legacy or the Buddhist spirit.
The city concentrates a third of the population of Mongolia. It's an ugly place, no more grace than rappers and venerable old switch in the same dirty sidewalks. I've always thought that the Mongols have not yet decided whether to stay with the Soviet legacy or the Buddhist spirit. Some statues still reminisce sickle and hammer that toppled sacred temples. But other monuments extolling the Buddha with more grace. There are bells ringing solemnly and blue handkerchiefs waving to the wind of dreams.
This is certainly a rare city, so full of contradictions that would walking fought with herself. Light fills the entire summer in blinding to misery, kindest without coats, but in winter, the poorest of the poorest countries forgotten, far from the sea, They seek refuge in the basement. Ulaanbaatar sewers are filled with sheltered sleepers and vodka alleviates very subzero nights.
Many walk the streets of the capital with masks, while the rest of the country the air is so pure that makes you want to bottle it.
Pollution threatens its inhabitants. Many of them walk the streets of the capital with masks, while the rest of the country the air is so pure that makes you want to bottle it.
Two realities collide, but the visceral confrontation is the one in the enclosure sacred Gandan. It is the limbo into chaos. A place that is like floating, because there children are monks and the faithful are happy. The temples are decorated with ceilings filled with filigrees and even have a Buddha 25 meters hurts so golden look. Here Ulaanbaatar reconciles with another time, a time where stupas rose and chased away the fears praying to the sky.
Mongolia is a unique place in the world. He suffered terrible tyrannies, violent invasions and various influences. Today, Meander through the big city, understood that keeps trying to define, without a clear destination, and a look that will spend the rest of the world. They are so in the middle of nowhere that nobody cares. And them, They are concentrating the remainder of Mongolia, survive in that kind of chaos mystic named Ulaanbaatar.
