Mongolia, the land of Genghis Khan
and nomadic herders, is in the midst of a remarkable transition. Rich in coal,
gold and copper, this country of fewer than 3 million people in Central Asia is
riding a mineral boom that is expected to more than double its GDP within a
decade. The rapid changes simultaneously excite and unnerve many Mongolians,
who hope mining can help pull many out of poverty, but worry it will ravage the
environment and further erode the nation”s distinctive, nomadic identity.

Third of four parts

Ooarnkoyar Maikhuu spends 12 hours a
day behind the wheel of a 60-ton dump truck hauling dirt from a giant, open-pit
mine in the deserts of southern Mongolia. The 22-year-old single mother works
at Oyu Tolgoi, which in a few years is expected to become one of the world”s
largest copper mines.

When she started working in the
mine”s cafeteria two years ago, Ooarnkoyar — Mongolians go by their first names
— earned just $96 a month. Today, as a truck driver, she brings in nearly
$1,400 a month, compared to the country”s annual per capita GDP of about
$2,500.

“I just got a loan on my salary
and just bought a little plot of land,” says Ooarnkoyar, whose work
ensemble includes a white hard hat, gold hoop earrings and sparkly lip gloss.
“When my son grows up, I want to move into Ulan Bator [Mongolia”s capital]
and buy an apartment, and I want my son to go to school there.”

Mongolia is in the midst of a mining
boom and people like Ooarnkoyar are among the prime beneficiaries. Last year,
the country”s economy grew by more than 17 percent, nearly twice the pace of
its southern neighbor, China.

Oyu Tolgoi is scheduled to produce
its first copper ore next month, and as more mines open, they”re providing good
jobs in the country of nearly 3 million people, where about one-third of them
scrape by on $1.25 a day.

Good Training, Tough Conditions

Thousands of young Mongolians have
descended on Oyu Tolgoi to improve their lives. Oyu Tolgoi — which means
Turquoise Hill in Mongolian and refers to the color of copper when it”s exposed
to oxygen — is more than 300 miles south of Ulan Bator, but it might as well be
in the middle of nowhere.

The mine camp is a self-contained
city of about 14,000 people surrounded by the lunar landscape of the Gobi,
where the nearest neighbors are mostly camels, goats and sheep. Weather in the
area features sandstorms, tornadoes and temperatures that drop to 40 below zero
in winter and soar to 135 in the summer.

Tseren-ochir is a superintendent at
Oyu Tolgoi mine who goes by the name “Augie” because it”s easier for
the foreigners he works with to pronounce. he is overseeing workers digging a
nearly 5,000-foot-deep shaft down to reach the copper ore.

The camp has two bank branches, a
grocery store and a barbershop. In the evenings after work, miners play
basketball outside and table tennis inside a Quonset hut.

From 7 to 9 p.m., the camp bar
serves beer by the case beneath black lights. The clientele ranges from young
Mongolian women just out of college to grizzled, 50-something miners from
Australia.

Tseren-ochir, who says he is in his
mid-30s, is a mine superintendent. He introduces himself as Augie, because it”s
easier for the foreigners he works with to pronounce.

He is directing workers to dig a
nearly 5,000-feet-deep shaft straight down to reach the copper ore. Augie says
Rio Tinto and Ivanhoe Mines, the huge foreign mining companies that are
majority owners of Oyu Tolgoi, provide great on-the-job training for Mongolian
workers.

Peering into the giant shaft that
plunges into the earth, Augie says 18- and 19-year-old men who came to Oyu
Tolgoi five or six years ago are now “international miners.”

“They can operate the latest
technology underground. Those guys are fantastic,” Augie says.

People work long stints at Oyu
Tolgoi, and Augie is no different. His current rotation is 56 days on site, 14
days back home. He says the hardest part about his work is being away from his
young family.

“I”ve got a 5-month-old
baby,” he says. “I miss her so much, but there”s nothing to do”
about it.

Augie makes about $24,000 a year,
good money in Mongolia.

Privately, though, Mongolians
complain that foreign workers from Canada and Australia with similar skills
make at least three times more.

The Unofficial Gold Rush

Mining provides opportunities for
Mongolian workers, but it also siphons away talent from other important
industries — like tourism.

“We lose at least four people a
year,” says Batbayar Amgalanbayar, who runs Mongolian Expeditions and
Tours in Ulan Bator.

Some Mongolians are striking out on
their own. This kind of mining is technically illegal, but many Mongolians do
it in order to supplement their incomes. A prospector in the South Gobi shows
off the results of two days of labor — a good-sized palmful of pure gold
nuggets.

He says mining companies routinely
poach his best drivers and translators. Mongolian Expeditions offers everything
from horseback-riding trips to winter kite-skiing, but Batbayar says he has
already had to turn away business this year because he couldn”t staff some
trips.

“I had to turn down jeep tours.
I had to turn down canoeing tours. I had to turn down trucking tours,” he
says. “This is something that never happened before.”

Workers in the Gobi who can”t get
hired by mining companies often strike out on their own. Mongolia has an
estimated 70,000 illegal gold prospectors.

They”re called “ninjas,” a
name a mining union leader says originates from the fact that they cover their
mouths and heads with bandanas. Others say they earned the nickname because
they carry mining pans on their backs and resemble TV”s Teenage Mutant Ninja
Turtles.

A ninja prospecting camp looks like
a scene out of the California Gold Rush, updated for the 21st century. In one
ravine deep in the desert, miners park their minivans, SUVs and jeeps along a
dry river bed.

After selecting a spot with the help
of metal detectors, they dig pits with shovels, pickaxes, jackhammers and power
drills. They pour soil through sifters until they find pebble-sized bits of
gold or, in some cases, actual nuggets.

“We”re finding lots of
gold,” says Batbildeg, a 30-year-old miner.

Various mining teams display their
hauls, pouring small, yellow rocks out of tiny, white pill bottles. They say
they can sell an ounce for about $150.

Batbildeg has been mining for two to
three years.

“It”s quite good. Last year, I
made nearly $4,000,” he says. “Before that, I used to be a herder. My
livestock all died out.”

Getting A Piece Of Mining Boom

Another prospector, Batbold Badrakh,
hovers over his mine, a 4-foot-deep pit. He served as a soldier in the 1980s
when Mongolia was a Soviet satellite, but has struggled since.

“I did look for jobs, but now
I”m over 40, no one is going to hire me anyway,” says Batbold, who wears a
gray cap and has a lined face that looks a decade older than his 42 years.

“I tried with Oyu Tolgoi, but
they won”t hire me,” he says. “First of all, my health is not good
enough for them. And I have a family. And I can”t leave them for a year.”

Batbold can”t lift heavy objects
because he has a bad back, but he can still manage to run a sifter. That seems
to be enough for the three other members of his crew, and it”s the only way
Batbold can get a small piece of the action that is Mongolia”s mining boom.

By Frank Langfitt

Source: http://www.npr.org/