Boundless Horizons

Boundless Horizons:

Posted November 25, 2008 by Roger Burks

A Journey Begins with Two Flat Tires

Country: Mongolia

Topics: Peaceful Change, Economic Development, Agriculture

The Altan Govii Shiree cooperative is located in one of southern Mongolia's most scenic areas - near the Bayanzag, or Flaming Cliffs. Its tourism business has been supported by Mercy Corps since 2003. The cooperative now has 10 gers that accommodate about 500 tourists each year, raising the fortunes of vulnerable herding families in the area. Photo: Thatcher Cook for Mercy Corps

A couple dozen miles outside of Mongolia's capital of Ulaanbaatar, the paved road ended and gave way to the Gobi Desert. A few dozen miles after that, we had our first flat tire of the day. I stepped out of the car and found a sun-bleached camel skull at my feet.

Thus began our first day of documentary fieldwork in Mongolia.

As I stood outside with photographer Thatcher Cook and our interpreter Bayar — taking shelter, as best we could, from stinging sands hurled by whipping winds — our driver Ochir began pacing, murmuring in Mongolian and gesturing in an agitated way. I asked Bayar what was going on.

"Ochir says that his damn brother-in-law put the wrong tire iron in the car," he explained. "He can't remove the spare tire from the back door."

And so there we were, in the Gobi — Asia's largest desert — with a flat tire and no way to replace it. Our cell phones were out of range. There were no settlements to be seen anywhere across the broad horizon. So Ochir started walking in the direction that he thought, or rather guessed, was most hopeful.

About three hours later, a cargo truck pulled up and stopped next to our car. Two men in traditional Mongolian herder clothing got out and pointed to the truck bed, which was covered with a piece of canvas.

"They say Ochir's in there," Bayar plainly stated. And so he was — when the canvas was untied, he popped out with a metal file procured from parts unknown. Ochir proceeded to file down the business end of the tire iron until it was small enough to unscrew the lug nuts holding the spare tire in place. The tires were then swapped; we thanked the two men for bringing Ochir back to us and were back on our way southward through the Gobi, navigating our way to the city of Mandalgovi by the GPS mounted on the dashboard.

Photo: Thatcher Cook for Mercy CorpsAnother tire went flat less than two hours later, requiring taking out the busted inner tube, then inflating and installing a new one since we'd gone through our daily supply of spare tires. It was mid-afternoon by then; we'd already missed three interviews with Mercy Corps clients, all of which we'd have to somehow slot into the already-packed next day of field work.

Travel in Mongolia is some of the toughest I've ever experienced: it's a place where extreme weather conditions, areas of permafrost and a dearth of permanent settlements render a network of paved roads not only impractical but also fairly impossible. Regardless, we rumbled more than 1,600 miles across desert, steppes and mountains over the course of two weeks despite several more flat tires, gale-force winds and sandstorms that looked like tidal waves.

Just about the whole time, I was thinking, "people survive out here." I was in awe. After all, this is a place where temperatures range from subarctic lows around -40° F to scorching desert heat that soars to 104° F. Across Mongolia, there's an average of just five people per square mile — only three countries or territories in the world, one of which is Greenland, have a lower population density. More than a third of the population lives in Ulaanbaatar. You can honestly travel for a few hours in the Gobi without seeing one settlement or person.

Photo: Thatcher Cook for Mercy CorpsAnd still, despite all that, nomadic families maintain their centuries old ways of life. They tend enormous flocks of livestock to satisfy household needs and provide raw materials such as cashmere and felt to sell at market. They live in round, portable houses called gers that they can put up or take down within an hour's time. They are fiercely self-sufficient, living in small family settlements on some of the world's most extreme — and beautiful — landscapes. However, the last century has tested their way of life more than ever before.

In 1924, Mongolia became the world's second Communist country, adopting the philosophy soon after the rise of the neighboring Soviet Union. It remained that way until the early 1990s, when the collapse of the Soviet Union led to a successful democracy movement. The transition from a state-run, centralized economy to free enterprise has been fitful; Mercy Corps has been helping speed that transformation by lending its expertise here since 1999.

Each of Mercy Corps' three current programmes here — the Gobi Initiative, Rural Agribusiness Support Programme and Training, Advocacy and Networking project — provides financial and technical support for families, small businesses and organisations that are seeking to find their place in Mongolia's nascent market economy. Simply put, it's about giving families the chance to strengthen their livelihoods and expand their business opportunities while protecting their traditions. Mercy Corps Mongolia's programmes currently boast 640,000 beneficiaries — more than 20 percent of the country's population.

Among those that Thatcher and I met were traditional herders seeking new markets for their cashmere, wool and dairy products; teachers who have lobbied the government to provide more money for healthier student meals; a traditional furniture maker who has begun an export business to Holland; and a retired mayor who somehow makes award-winning tomatoes sprout from the inhospitable desert.

When I stepped out of the car that first long day in Mongolia, miles from anywhere or anyone, there was little to consider but the vast expanses and ceaseless blue skies. By the end of my travels, though, I realized that the most boundless horizons of all were the futures of the people I met.

Boundless Horizons:

Posted November 25, 2008 by Roger Burks

Preserving Nomadic Life

Country: Mongolia

Topics: Agriculture, Economic Development, Peaceful Change

Tumurchuluun is Master Herder of Huld soum, south of Mandalgovi. Photo: Thatcher Cook for Mercy Corps

Huld soum, Mongolia — It's nearly impossible to walk at a normal pace as you brace yourself against the powerful, biting winds in Huld soum, a particularly flat stretch of Mongolia's Gobi Desert. The gusts feel so strong that they threaten not only to blow you over, but carry you away.

Once you bend down and ease through the small doorway of Mr. Tumurchuluun's ger, however, all you feel is warmth and comfort. The dwelling is as colourful as the desert is stark: the furniture, wall hangings, blankets and even the structural supports are vividly painted with swirling shapes and symbols that illustrate a rich tradition.

Inside the ger, guests bear left and take seats on handmade chairs and benches. Hands warm quickly, and the memory of cold desert air begins to fade as Tumurchuluun's wife serves hot milk tea. A small metal stove near the door serves as both cooking surface and space heater. It's fueled by dried manure from the family's herd; it doesn't smell at all as it burns.

There is an overwhelming sense of home and hearth as Tumurchuluun begins to speak. This is nomadic life in Mongolia, now and how it's been for centuries.

The Master Herder

Tumurchuluun has roamed this area and grazed herds here his whole life. He's seen zuds — weather disasters that consist of hotter-than-normal summers followed by brutal winters — take the lives of thousands of animals and threaten those of his family. He's witnessed Mongolia's evolution from communist state to free-market economy. He's experienced the steady decline of forage as the desert continues to spread.

Nevertheless, he rises with the dawn and smiles as he sets out across the ochre-tinted desert to find grazing land for his herds. He faithfully brings them back to the fold as nightfall's blue transforms the landscape.

Photo: Thatcher Cook for Mercy Corps

In the sometimes-splendid isolation of the Gobi, Tumurchuluun knows this is good work, important work. And Mercy Corps knows that, too.

Mercy Corps first made Tumurchuluun's acquaintance during site visits to nomad families in 2000 — a year after the agency started its work in Mongolia. That year and two years afterward brought the worst zuds in recent memory: In 2002, more than 800,000 animals perished in the deadly cold and snow. Mongolia was also undergoing a difficult transition to a free-market economy after 70 years of state-run systems. Herding families caught the worst of everything.

Mercy Corps representatives came with many ideas, but one above all: band together for economic survival. Share the risks of herding and also share in the rewards of success.

Tumurchuluun convened a group of ten local families in 2003, and they agreed to form a cooperative, the Oldohiin Devjikh herder group. (A cooperative involves a group of people that elect to work together toward a common goal, while the old Soviet collective system often forced people into work groups for the betterment of the state.) That's when he received the title of Master Herder — a mantle that not only signified his prowess at managing herds, but showed his neighbors' trust that he'd be able to guide their group toward a more certain, even prosperous, future.

He got to work right away, staying in close contact with Mercy Corps representatives. They helped the herder group procure a £600 loan to build new wells to supply their livestock with water. (At the time, loans were a rarity for nomads, who live far from banks.) They also used the loan to chart a new business direction: making trips to sell the cashmere from their goats for higher prices at regional trade fairs rather than in the local markets. This access to credit — as well as the newfound ability to sell valuable cashmere collectively, in bulk — turned the fortunes of the herder group completely around after two disastrous years.

"Since we first met in 2000, my family — and other families in this area — have established very good relations with Mercy Corps," Tumurchuluun says. "They've given us advice and technical assistance on marketing and cashmere production, and also send out veterinarians to help our herds make it through difficult seasons."

Photo: Thatcher Cook for Mercy Corps

Over the last few years, Tumurchuluun's group has won dozens of awards at regional fairs for their cashmere and livestock. He proudly hands ribbons and medals to us, explaining through our interpreter what each one signifies. And then an even bigger grin lights up the Master Herder's face. He gets up, takes a manila folder from a chest of drawers, sits back down, puts on a pair of reading glasses and proceeds to riffle through the papers.

With a small "ah" sound, he finds what he's looking for and hands it to me: a brochure for a Best Western hotel in Denver, Colourado.

Lessons from two continents

In 2004, Mercy Corps financed a trip for Tumurchuluun to attend a livestock fair in Denver, to learn and share lessons with fellow ranchers and cattle herders.

"I still remember my room number," he says. "603."

In addition to the fair, he was able to visit some farms in the area to study innovations. He was particularly impressed by the use of renewable energy resources such as solar and wind, as well as sustainable agriculture and range management. He's brought some of those ideas back to Mongolia with him and put them to use: This year, his herding group fenced off 74 acres to cultivate better pastureland for livestock. They're also planting more than 3,000 trees around the perimeter of the pastureland to improve the environment and provide additional forage.

He is grateful for the eight days he was able to spend in the U.S. But he thinks that American farmers could learn one very important lesson from their Mongolian counterparts.

"Be kinder to your animals," Tumurchuluun says. "It matters."

Thanks to the work of Mercy Corps and Tumurchuluun, nomadic life goes on along one of the vast Gobi Desert's most forbidding stretches, just as it has for centuries.

Boundless Horizons:

Posted November 25, 2008 by Roger Burks

Miracle Growth

Country: Mongolia

Topics: Agriculture, Economic Development, Peaceful Change

Photo: Thatcher Cook for Mercy Corps

Bulgan soum, Mongolia - This is a story about how political transformation, tourism and tomatoes created an oasis in the southernmost reaches of Mongolia's Gobi Desert. It begins at the end of the country's 70-year-long communist era with a man named Poli.

As a new democracy dawned in the early 1990s, Poli was nearing the end of many years in local government. His final assignment, as governor of an area called Bulgan soum in Mongolia's largest province, was the capstone of his career.

As governor, Poli had a unique perspective on the area's existing challenges — and its new opportunities. On first glance, he saw an isolated region with very few roads, extreme weather conditions and quickly deteriorating Soviet-era buildings. A longer look, however, revealed one of Mongolia's most striking landscapes: an area of the country with natural treasures like the Bayanzag (Flaming Cliffs) and Yolin Am (Valley of the Eagles), a narrow canyon filled with year-round snow and ice. It also brought into plain view the fascinating culture of local nomad families — particularly camel herders — who were such a part of daily life that they went unnoticed by townspeople.

In short, Bulgan soum was filled with the natural beauty, traditional culture and potential for adventure that attracts world travelers to Mongolia's hinterlands. When his term as governor ended in 1997, Poli embarked on his plan to turn Bulgan soum into a tourist destination. He reached out to a variety of non-governmental organisations for insights and guidance, and found one in particular that shared his vision.

A helping hand

In 1997, Mercy Corps was researching possible programmes and partnerships in the area around Bulgan soum, laying the groundwork for what would become the agency's Gobi Initiative. Poli offered his help in arranging meetings, learning the lay of the land and forging relationships. By the time the Gobi Initiative launched in 1999, he was already well-known and trusted by Mercy Corps staff. Poli's vision became an integral part of the strategy for the area.

The first part of that vision was improving the area's tourism infrastructure. And that meant taking lessons from Mongolia's nomad culture.

"The hotels in the area weren't so nice — they were cold and dirty, built mostly for bureaucrats," Poli explained. "We wanted to give travelers the authentic Mongolia ger experience with a cozy dwelling, a warm fire and hospitality."

The Bayanzag — or Flaming Cliffs — are one of Mongolia's most scenic natural places, and a major tourist attraction. Photo: Thatcher Cook for Mercy Corps

Mercy Corps helped him get a loan to buy the materials and furnishings to outfit his first tourist ger, and also advised him on bookkeeping, marketing and other business management matters. The camp opened in 2001, as the first adventure tourism facilities in Bulgan soum. The first person to stay in the newly christened ger was a Mercy Corps representative from Dalanzadgad, the provincial capital.

Poli realized almost immediately that his instincts had been right.

"In the first year, we had almost 400 people stay the night in that one ger, which only has three beds," he said. "We're at a crossroads, so trekkers on their way to and from the soum's natural wonders found their way here. Business was so good that I was able to build and furnish a second ger by the next tourist season."

Today, Poli has five gers and provides accommodation for more than 800 travelers a year. At least 60 percent of them are Mongolians — which bodes well for sustainable growth — while most of the other other 40 percent hail from Russia and Eastern Europe.

Nearly all the reviews were stellar, but Poli kept hearing one suggestion for improvement.

"The food," he laughed. "Mongolian food is sometimes difficult for foreigners to stomach."

So he resolved to do something about that, too.

The desert's bounty

Here in Mongolia's southern reaches, the diet reflects the herding lifestyle: mutton soup with noodles, mutton dumplings, stewed mutton goulash, camel's milk cheese and milk tea. Occasionally, there are potatoes or onions added to the mix. It's an adventure to sample the nomad fare but, after days of trekking and exploring the desert, one craves the freshness and colour of vegetables and fruit.

Poli simply had to tap into his experience to satisfy that need.

"While I was governor, I volunteered for an international ecological organisation working in this part of the Gobi," he said. "I gained a lot of insight into working with people from other countries, and also learned a lot about dry-climate techniques for growing, processing and storing vegetables and fruit."

Photo: Thatcher Cook for Mercy Corps

An American tourist who had spent a few nights here offered to loan 60 percent of the capital Poli needed to start an organic farm. With that, Poli built a greenhouse and a cellar. Since he was already busy with the tourist business and couldn't do all the work that his burgeoning enterprise required, he began to train and hire local citizens to help tend the organic gardens.

Today Poli grows more than 30 kinds of fruits and vegetables — including cabbage, peppers and several varieties of leafy greens — while receiving occasional advice from Mercy Corps' agriculture staff. He receives many of his seeds from people that have stayed in his ger camp — including folks from Europe, Mexico and the United States. A former Mercy Corps Mongolia country director even sends seeds from his new post in Indonesia.

Poli has used his ever-expanding organic farm to train families in the area how to start and manage their own gardens. Over the last couple of years, he's conducted eight such training sessions, free of charge. He has single-handedly diversified the economy of Bulgan soum and given families a reliable new way to earn money.

"Every household here knows how to grow, process and store their own vegetables — steaming, marinating, adding natural ingredients and canning," Poli explained.

And that's led to perhaps the most unlikely tourist attraction the Gobi Desert has ever seen.

Juggling tomatoes

Poli has found success in growing dozens of vegetable and fruit varieties here in the desert, but none have been nearly as successful as his tomatoes. He's currently growing four varieties of tomatoes, as well as trying to hybridize new kinds of tomatoes that are more unique and suitable for the local environment. His tomatoes have achieved numerous awards, including the overall best product in the entire province during a local trade fair.

He has brought others into this success: last year, Bulgan soum grew more than 160 tons of tomatoes, making it a major cash crop sold in markets as far away as Mongolia's capital, Ulan Bator.

Photo: Thatcher Cook for Mercy Corps

The tomatoes are so good — and famous within the country — that Poli started an annual tomato festival. This was its third year. The festival features not only fresh produce and food, but also contests including tomato juggling, extemporaneous poetry about tomatoes and tomato eating contest.

"This year, the winner was a woman who ate two pounds of tomatoes in less than a minute," Poli chuckled.

The growth of Poli's business and gardens would be remarkable anywhere — but particularly so in one of the world's most unforgiving environments. It's a testament to his commitment, enthusiasm and ability to bring people together.

"Mercy Corps has been paramount and pivotal to all my business pursuits," Poli said, "From the creation of this camp to the trainings I give local families. It's been more than 10 years of great collaboration."

The partnership between Poli and Mercy Corps is sheltering weary travelers, helping families harvest healthy vegetables and bringing economic opportunity to one of the world's harshest landscapes. It's proof that, when people pitch in to accomplish a goal, good ideas can flourish anywhere — even here in the Gobi Desert.

Boundless Horizons:

Posted November 25, 2008 by Roger Burks

Shepherding Tradition

Country: Mongolia

Topics: Agriculture, Economic Development, Peaceful Change

Photo: Thatcher Cook for Mercy Corps

The title of "Master Herder" is reserved for a select few across Mongolia. It conjures up a distinct image: an aged but still eminently capable man dressed in traditional robes, standing on the vast steppes, exercising an almost mystical control over his livestock.

There is much truth in that perception. After all, Mongolia is a place where the herding and care of animals isn't only a centuries-old tradition, but also critical to family health, income and survival. Master Herders are not only the keepers of customs, but also the guardians of nomadic families' present-day success.

But here in a nomad camp in Mongolia's southernmost province, the Master Herder is dressed in a black velvet jacket, grey corduroy pants and blue hiking boots. Her name is Surenjav. She's 29 years old.

Opportunity to grow

In this world of wizened herdsmen, how did Surenjav become a Master Herder in charge of more than 2,000 livestock — including 250 camels — at such a young age?

"I've known how to work with camels since I was a child," she said. "My experience with herding helped me run our group of herding families more efficiently. Visits from Mercy Corps-supported veterinarians help keep our herd healthy. And trainings conducted have helped me to better organise and manage our business."

Mercy Corps' Gobi Initiative is helping traditional herders like Surenjav get the training and other help they need to compete in Mongolia's expanding economy, as well as cope with the constant challenges of life in the desert. Technology is making inroads, even in some of Mongolia's most isolated areas: banking is conducted over cell phones and daily market prices for livestock products are broadcast over the radio. The Gobi Initiative works with nomads to harness these new innovations.

Surenjav is one of Mercy Corps' newest clients in this part of Omnogovi province, a picturesque section of the Gobi Desert punctuated by rust-orange rock formations known as the Bayanzag, or "Flaming Cliffs." Her herding group — Bayanzag — takes its name from the nearby natural wonder.

Photo: Thatcher Cook for Mercy CorpsThe group — four households with eight adults total — sells fresh camel milk, cheese and wool all over the area, as well as providing breeding stock for other herding families. Part of the milk is donated to a local school as part of a lunch programme. They've won many regional awards for their herds — including "best breed" and "best baby camel" — and hang the medals proudly from the poles of their traditional dwellings. But they're most proud of the progress they've made as a business since beginning collaboration with Mercy Corps earlier this year.

"Before we started working with Mercy Corps, we didn't know how to keep good accounting records to determine our monthly sales and turnover. For the most part, no cash is used in our daily local economy — it's always been trade-based," Surenjav said. "But now we're able to be more precise with our bookkeeping and see not only what we've done, but also the opportunities for growth."

Growth is definitely on the horizon. For the upcoming year, the group is projecting sales of 1.4 tons of camel wool for about £1,560; approximately 3.5 tons of camel milk for more than £1,500; and meat sales totaling at least £1,020 They will also make another few hundred dollars a year from trade fairs, camel racing and other competitions.

Mercy Corps is helping Surenjav's group manage their accounts and growth in the short term: each month, they submit their ledgers to the local Mercy Corps office for review, as well as monitoring and evaluation to determine how the programme is performing across the area.

Surenjav is certainly grateful to have Mercy Corps supporting her growing group of herders, but her most trusted advisor is her 98-year-old grandmother, who still gets out to milk the camels.

The wisdom of generations

Surenjav's grandmother, Uruvjin, is the oldest citizen in this part of Mongolia. She's been a camel breeder and herder for her entire life. She has two children and about 30 grandchildren and great-grandchildren, all of whom are involved in the family business.

"The temee [Mongolian for "camel"] is the most suitable animal for this part of the desert. It requires little water," Uruvjin explained. "But the art is slowly disappearing. My granddaughter is helping keep it alive."

Uruvjin is a daily voice in the herding group's decisions. She knows the best times — and places — to move the livestock on to new pastures. And, according to her, finding good grazing land isn't easy these days.

"Back in my youth, there were much better pastures and vegetation. Now, every year it's getting worse," she said. "The pastures are diminishing, water sources are disappearing and the desert is expanding."

Climate change is a fact of life here; Uruvjin has seen irrefutable proof over her lifetime. But the wisdom she's handing down — combined with modern-day business training and technology from Mercy Corps — are giving a young Master Herder and her group the help they need to not only cope and adapt, but succeed.

Boundless Horizons:

Posted November 25, 2008 by Roger Burks

Better School Lunches - No, Really

Country: Mongolia

Topics: Agriculture, Children, Peaceful Change

Photo: Thatcher Cook for Mercy Corps

Bat-Ulzii, Mongolia - Throughout much of Mongolia, school meals are the only nutrition that students receive. Because of the vast distances that nomadic families live from the town centers where schools are located, the majority of students live in school dormitories and only reside with their families during breaks.

But at the only school in Bat-Ulzii, a small town set amid the verdant river valleys and forests of central Mongolia, the school lunch programme was providing mere sustenance instead of nutritious meals: more than 1,300 students were subsisting on a diet of flour and boiled mutton that cost the government less than 50 cents a day. Students took their concerns to teachers, who spoke to the school's headmistress, Ms. Dolgormaa. She contacted a friend who runs a nearby business that has received assistance from Mercy Corps.

Within days, representatives from Mercy Corps' Training, Advocacy and Networking (TAN) programme, which supports civic action to strengthen community participation in local government decisions, met with Dolgormaa and others from the school to formulate an action plan.

They acted quickly. School officials, Mercy Corps representatives and a local women's association set out to better the quality of school meals in Batulzi. First, a study was begun to find out how the government's school meals funding was used: ingredients, preparation, hygiene and student satisfaction were all investigated. The group calculated the exact nutritional value of the meals offered and found it lagging far behind national standards.

The study was presented to local officials, who nearly doubled the funding of the meal programme.

Mercy Corps then helped train the school's five cooks, kitchen manager and accountant in how to better select ingredients, manage costs and prepare more nutritious meals. The cooks also received training in health and hygiene.

Today, there are more than ten different kinds of meals that are offered on a rotating basis at the school. The school's accountant has made contracts with farmers and herders to ensure a continuous supply of high-quality vegetables, fruits, meat and dairy products. That contributes not only to the well-being of schoolchildren, but also energizes the local economy.

The school has even started an organic vegetable garden, which students help plant, maintain and harvest.

A quick look through the comment books that sit in each dormitory reveal that the students are much happier about what they're eating; many entries about the meals simply say "thank you." And happier, healthier children are able to concentrate and participate better in class, leading to a better future for all.

Boundless Horizons:

Posted November 25, 2008 by Roger Burks

Opening Drawers

Country: Mongolia

Topics: Economic Development

Photo: Thatcher Cook for Mercy Corps

Tsetserleg, Mongolia — How does traditional Mongolian nomad furniture end up in children's rooms in Amsterdam, more than 4,000 miles away? A combination of craftsmanship and connections, with a little help from Mercy Corps.

Khureltogo, 43, is a master woodworker who specializes in making wooden frames and household furniture for Mongolian gers: brightly painted stools, cupboards, tables and chairs decorated with distinctive circular patterns sized for the portable round houses used by Mongolian nomads. He wasn't always a furniture maker; before the collapse of the country's communist systems in the early 1990s, he worked as an engineer in a state power plant. Khureltogo lost his job in the democratic transition and economic reforms that transformed Mongolia, but soon found a new — yet familiar — way to make a living.

"I had experience making ger furniture by hand; I'd worked with my father and other family members when I was a young man," he said. "And, while I was looking for work, I found that there was definitely a demand for the product. So I took the money I had saved and started my business."

That was 1993. Khureltogo named his new business Shine Burd, which means "new oasis" in Mongolian. It's also the name of his wife's hometown. He started by working out of his home, building furniture for nomad families on a per-order basis. But word of his craftsmanship soon spread throughout the areas around Tsetserleg, a city known for its ger furniture.

His growing reputation won him the resources to open a small shop in 1996, buy raw materials in bulk and begin to build an inventory. By 2002, the business had grown too big for that storefront, and so Khureltogo bought the entire second floor of a building, procuring enough space for warehousing, a business office, workspace and a display area for prospective buyers.

But he had set his sights on something even bigger than his expanded shop — and something even farther away than the nomad camps of the vast Mongolian landscape.

Photo: Thatcher Cook for Mercy CorpsGetting exposure

The hopes of entrepreneurs have been swallowed whole by far lesser things than the difficulty of doing business amid Mongolia's sweeping steppes and deserts. And Tsetserleg, the provincial city where Khureltogo lives and works, is more than 250 miles from the country's capital of Ulan Bator over roadways that range from rough to non-existent. It's a forbidding environment for anyone, much less a small furniture business with a wish to enter the export market.

Mercy Corps helped make the environment more favorable for businesses in far-flung towns like Tsetserleg. The agency's Gobi Initiative set up festivals and trade fairs in which local shops and companies could market their products in the country's capital to buyers from across Mongolia and beyond. Khureltogo's Shine Burd took second place among all participating businesses at the Gobi Festival in 2005 and 2006, noticeably raising its profile and making the connection that led to its first export contract.

Expanding beyond borders

"I was looking for an unusual country to do business in," explained Dutch native Justus Dolleman. "A place where few people go, a difficult place. Mongolia came to mind."

Dolleman met Khureltogo at the 2006 festival, and the two made each other's wishes come true. Shine Burd shipped £1,080 worth of ger furniture to a Dolleman's company, Juist Just, in February 2007, followed by two more shipments totaling £5,400

Today Juist Just sells the furniture online and in retail outlets throughout Holland and Belgium. The buyers are primarily Dutch women, including many pregnant women and new mothers who decorate their children's rooms with the colourful, unique furniture.

Photo: Thatcher Cook for Mercy Corps"I've seen chests-of-drawers used as changing tables and storage boxes used as toy chests," said Dolleman. "It's really taking off."

The festivals are just one part of the Gobi Initiative, which offers training, mentorship, market linkages and loans to small business owners throughout Mongolia. It's helped more than 1,500 businesses and provided $2 million in commercial loans since 1999.

Khureltogo has taken two loans — £3,780 in 2005 and £6,780 in 2007 — to expand his business and hire and train new employees. He now has 10 full-time employees, skilled woodworkers and painters who earn a competitive monthly wage and receive bonuses when big orders are placed.

Khureltogo's creations have even been featured in parenting magazines across Europe. It's all quite a change from starting a small business out of his home more than 15 years ago.

Shine Burd still does most of its business creating and furnishing the homes of local nomad families. The furniture it takes to equip a typical ger — two chests, one table, two beds, a chest-of-drawers and a kitchen pantry — costs about £210 here in Mongolia. But the overseas sales has created more jobs in an area of Mongolia where good-paying job opportunities are scarce at best.

"I owe my export business to Mercy Corps," Khureltogo said. "Since we started our collaboration in 2004, they have helped me market my products to foreign clients. And our market demand is growing, so I'll need at least four more employees in the near future."