Between Smog and Steppe
It is February. Our project partners pick us up at the airport outside the capital, Ulaanbaatar. “It's gotten warmer,” they say. “Only minus 20 degrees now.” At the beginning of the year, it had briefly dropped to minus 54 degrees. A thick blanket of smog hangs over the city. In winter, Ulaanbaatar is among the cities with the highest levels of air pollution worldwide. The cause is large coal-fired power plants for electricity and district heating, but also the countless coal stoves that people use in their tents, the gers, to protect themselves from the cold.
The city is growing rapidly. Skyscrapers are springing up, and nearly half of Mongolia's population now lives here. Many came with the hope of finding work and a better life. For most, however, this dream does not come true.
On the outskirts of the city, we drive past a massive landfill. An entire hillside piled high with trash, meters deep. Here, the poorest people search for food or usable materials. Makeshift shelters stand among tarps and boxes. Dust, cold, and rotten smells hang in the air. Just a few kilometers away, the statue of Genghis Khan gleams in the city center. The contrast could hardly be greater.
A roof, a plate, a start
At the Claim shelter, people from extremely difficult circumstances can rent a small room. The rooms are about three by four meters in size; water, toilets, and showers are located in the hallway. The entire building is heated with coal. The monthly rent is the equivalent of about 50 Swiss francs. Not everyone can pay this amount regularly. The shelter therefore remains a social project by design.
A man tells us that he lives here with his wife and three school-age children. All five share a single room. That is where they cook, eat, and sleep. Both parents work, but their income is not enough for their own ger, let alone an apartment.
Later, we accompany a relief goods distribution organized by Claim. Those in need receive clothing from donations by ACP as well as staple foods such as flour, oil, and rice. Two women receive a sewing machine. One of them later invites us into her ger, located somewhere on a hill in a vast ger district. There is no running water; everything is simple and makeshift. For thousands of Mongolians, this is the norm.
Her husband was an alcoholic; life with him was difficult. Since he disappeared, it has become more bearable. Her sister is gone too; no one knows where she is—perhaps in China. The woman now cares not only for her own children but also for her sister's, seven in total. The sewing machine gives her a chance to earn some money—and a sense of hope.
The Vastness as Home
We're heading to Kharkhorin. The modern-day city lies right next to the ruins of Karakorum, the former capital of the Mongol Empire in the 13th century. For five hours, we travel through endless steppes, rolling hills, and a vastness that's almost impossible to grasp, all at temperatures of minus 35 degrees. Along the way, we see wild camels, gers scattered here and there across the landscape, and large herds of sheep and horses.
The family we visit makes a living from livestock farming. They own around 200 cashmere goats, about ten cows, several yaks, and around 50 horses. With their four gers, they move on four times a year, depending on the season and altitude.
The clan chief has already received awards for his horse breeding. His wife helps with the animals in the summer. The rest of the year, she lives with the children in Kharkhorin so they can attend school. The greatest threat to the nomads is harsh winters. In extreme years, the entire herd can perish. Then there is nothing left to build upon, and the following year they must start from scratch again.
In the evening, we cook together. Meat, potatoes, vegetables, and a dough-based dish are cooked in large pots. Glowing lava stones provide the necessary heat. After conversations and a shared prayer, we eat together before setting off on the drive back to Charchorin.
Quiet Places, Worlds of Their Own
A Christian community center is located on a plot of land owned by Claim. It includes two gers, two greenhouses, several containers of relief supplies from ACP, and a two-story house. On the ground floor, meals are prepared for people in need; on the upper floor, sewing classes are held.
On this day, about ten people receive a hot meal: noodles with vegetables and mutton. After the meal, Claim distributes clothing and basic foodstuffs.
Among the guests is a father with his roughly ten-year-old autistic son. The boy sits there quietly for a long time, completely in his own world. As soap bubbles float through the room, his face lights up. Laughing, he blows one bubble after another.
On the upper floor, several women are sewing tent tarps for gers and traditional Mongolian clothing under the guidance of Claim staff members. Many have learned skills here that allow them to earn at least part of their livelihood.
Another sewing workshop we visit is located in the windowless basement of an apartment building. The seamstress there received sewing machines and fabric from Claim. Today, she passes on her knowledge and trains people with physical disabilities in simple sewing tasks. It is a quiet place—and yet one where something new is being formed.
Learning to Start Over
In a small literacy class, a Claim staff member teaches several children from very poor backgrounds. They are taught basic reading and writing skills so that they can later join a regular classroom. In addition to lessons, the children also paint, do crafts, and make things. On Mother's Day, the children invite their mothers, recite poems, and present homemade gifts. Many of the children come from families who are temporarily living in Claim's shelters or regularly receive relief supplies.
We also visit a rehabilitation center run by Gamba, a long-standing partner of Claim. Here live women and men who want to break free from alcohol or drug addiction. Detoxification takes place without medication. The residents receive close support and are integrated into daily life. They cook, clean, and work together.
To help fund its operations, the center runs various work projects: car washes, felt crafts, canning vegetables, and a small coffee shop. Religious services and devotions are held regularly in the dormitories and in the large hall above the café. It is a place where people find structure, community, and direction.
Full for the First Time
Bolto grew up under very difficult circumstances. He was a horse thief, drank heavily, and sank deeper and deeper into a life devoid of meaning. He was arrested and sentenced to nearly three years in prison. There he met Pastor Maschlä, who regularly visits the inmates and tells them about Jesus. Bolto listened because he sensed that things couldn't go on this way, and he decided to follow Jesus. After a short time, he was released early for good behavior.
His wife remained faithful to him throughout his entire incarceration. She, too, came to faith during that time. About three months after his release, Bolto attended a Christian basics course offered by Claim. “That was the first time in my life I ate so much that I was truly full,” he recalls with a laugh. That was 14 years ago.
Since then, Bolto has been firmly rooted in a church within our network. His life has changed fundamentally. Today he owns three horses of his own and cares for a total of about 20 horses for other families. He sells fermented mare's milk and Mongolian noodle stew made with homemade noodles. Sometimes he also works on construction sites or in a bakery.
Bolto is deeply rooted in his faith. “God can do anything; I cannot,” he makes clear. He recounts with particular poignancy how his wife's life was in danger during the birth of their first child. Bolto and other Christians stood around her and prayed. She survived. The attending physician later said, “It is only thanks to your God that she survived.”
A C-section was necessary for their second child. Afterward, the doctors strongly advised against further pregnancies. But the couple wanted more children and prayed for them. Children number three and four were born healthy through natural childbirth—and the mother was never again in mortal danger. Today, Bolto tells many people about Jesus, who has set his life on a firm foundation.
