Ordos, in the Chinese autonomous region of Inner Mongolia,
has been called a ‘ghost town’ (see for example Wade Shepard’s 2017 article in Forbes magazine, entitled “China’s Most
Infamous ‘Ghost City’ Is Rising from the Desert”). There’s a reason for that;
the city is not exactly packed with life. Still the depiction may be unfair. I
spent a week there last autumn and found the place to be both intriguing and
challenging. It surely is impressive, with its high rises, wide avenues,
monumental squares and parks. When I landed at the shiny new airport in the
middle of the night, disembarking from an Air China flight from Beijing, the
entry was very smooth. There were few people at the airport and a taxi was
waiting. We headed off on a road to near total darkness soon to arrive at a
brightly lit toll gate with extravagant decorations shining in the night. Then
off we went on a drive that felt like an eternity on an empty eight-lane
highway, mostly unlit, until we hit the outskirts of the city. I was sharing
the ride with an American lady whom we dropped off first at a massive Howard
Johnson establishment (I didn’t know these motels came in such sizes) before
driving another 5 minutes to reach my hotel, Tieniu, across a large
intersection in the middle of the city. In the lobby I was met by a young man
dressed in a pale blue uniform explaining the system to me: where the
restaurants were, at what time meals were served, etc.; and taking me to my 9th
floor room. The room was comfortable, overlooking the intersection and a park
behind it, and after a while I settled into the standard hotel bed. |
| Dongsheng dawn |
The morning dawned beautiful. After only a few hours of
sleep I woke up and looked out over the intersection and the park. The moon
shone over the slowly brightening sky. It was quiet and no movement could be
seen. Around 7 am the city started to wake up and loud music with a disco beat
started blaring from the park. Presumably it was played to prepare the city’s
denizens for another productive day; most likely there were people in the park
engaging in rhythmic morning exercises but I couldn’t see it from my room.
The young man in blue from last night, I would find out,
belonged to a group of hundreds of student volunteers who had been mobilized to
guide the thousands of foreigners who had gathered in town for the 13th
meeting of the Conference of the Parties (CoP13) of the United Nations
Convention to Combat Desertification (UNCCD). Ordos was hosting the biannual
event in its large new Convention Center, apparently one of the first such
international gatherings in town. The student guides were an essential part of
the success, as the locals certainly were not well equipped to deal with the
invasion. While street signs were generally in three scripts – Chinese,
Mongolian and Western – they would not be very helpful. Similarly, the ability
of the local people to communicate in English was virtually non-existent. Even
at the reception of this 4-star hotel, the staff lacked even a rudimentary
knowledge of basic English words.
I walked out of the hotel and turned left on what appeared
to be a commercial street. The air was dry
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| Dongsheng |
I returned to the hotel and asked the group of volunteers in
their pale blue outfits about how to get to the Convention Center. A helpful
young lady explained that there was a bus that would go straight there and that
I wouldn’t have to pay the fare. Apparently, there was a deal that the foreign
delegates would ride free; having us understand the payment system and give the
right amount of money was clearly more trouble than it was worth. I would just
have to walk across the street and wait for bus number 3. Crossing the road was
no problem as there was virtually no traffic, so I positioned myself on the bus
stop and started to wait.
There were a couple of other people who ogled me with
curiosity. Soon two teenage girls approached me. One of them ventured a
hesitant ‘hello’ and plenty of giggles followed when I responded in the same
way. That was the extent of our mutual vocabulary, but the girls indicated that
they wanted to have photographs with me. We asked the other people waiting at
the bus stop to take the photos.
Soon bus number 3 arrived and I boarded it. The driver
welcomed me with a smile. There was one other passenger, a middle-aged lady who
was equally welcoming and said something to me in Chinese. This turned out to
be a regular city bus. I placed myself next to an open window, as the day was
getting warm and I could welcome the breeze. The bus moved at an
extraordinarily slow pace through the vast deserted streets. At a later stop, a
young man in the pale blue uniform boarded and the friendly lady beckoned him
over. The volunteer confirmed that I was on the right bus and that I should
just have to wait until we reached the Convention Center stop; I would not be
able to miss it. Soon the bus left the city and entered an eight-lane highway,
presumably the same my taxi had used last night. The highway was new and looked
very impressive. There was very little traffic. Some cars cruised smoothly past
us, while we encountered a few other buses and trucks. The landscape around us,
now that I could see it, was open and the blue sky appeared high. Everywhere
there were tree plantations with saplings in straight rows sticking out of the
dry soil. The landforms were rolling hills. Afforesting the bare hills was
obviously an official priority. There was a river and a reservoir with large
Chinese letters in bright red inscribed on the adjacent hillside. Perhaps they
declared some environmental goal but I could not be certain. The bus crept
along the fancy highway at most 50 km/h. The speed limit said 100 km/h, or 80
in areas of intersections. When the road moved uphill, our speed slowed to a
crawl. I was concerned that the engine would die and we would be deserted in
the middle of an empty stretch with the scorching sun upon us in the merciless
sky.
 |
| Reservoir between Dongsheng and Kangbashi |
The highway passed through empty areas with only neat
afforestation projects on both sides. In some places they were irrigated by
water trucks. There were old workers in neon vests ambling around the center
plantations that separated the traffic going in opposite directions.
Occasionally we would see high rise developments that looked empty. Finally, we
left the highway and entered another urban area: the Kangbashi New District.
The city roads were wide with three lanes going in each direction. On the
roadsides there were monuments of large horses – this was Inner Mongolia where
horses have played a central part in the culture since the times of the Genghis
Khan – and parks with fountains sparing no amount of water in this dry land. We
reached the Convention Center stop and I disembarked. The bus ride had taken 70
minutes. I had enjoyed the scenery and the few people on the bus, including the
driver, had been very hospitable but I decided I would invest in a taxi ride
from now on for the coming week. This would cut the travel time by half.
 |
| Convention Center in Kangbashi |
The Convention Center occupied large grounds and was very
pleasant. The first thing a visitor saw was a display of plant art, dominated
by a 7-8 meter tall horse flanked by other Mongolian items. There was a booth
selling coffee and cold drinks, as well as other utility booths, before one
entered the main building. On the left there was a massive tent that served as
the dining area where one could purchase a large variety of Chinese, Western,
vegetarian and halal foods (there are lots of Muslims in northwestern China). I
spent the rest of the day – and several more to come – in the conference. We
also conducted a field visit to environmental projects funded, amongst others,
by the Global Environment Facility. But the evenings I would spend in
Dongsheng, mostly by myself as my colleagues were all lodged in Kangbashi.
By now I had figured out how these two centers hang together
(and here I rely in particular on an article by the geographer Max Woodworth
published in the journal Cities in
2015). Located in the valley of the Yellow River, Ordos has historically been a
poor area in China, plagued by its dry climate (with an average annual rainfall
of only 341 mm) and poor agricultural land. In the early-2000s, however, the
town experienced a significant boom period due to exploitation of its abundant
natural resources – notably coal and gas, which also experienced high prices at
that period. As a consequence, Ordos was dubbed as “China’s new coal capital”: investment poured in and people’s incomes rose rapidly. Dongsheng was the
town that had previously formed the urban core of Ordos. In 2001, Ordos
Municipality was founded around Dongsheng and a new center, the Kangbashi New
District, was established about 25 km north of Dongsheng to form this bi-centered
conglomerate. The two centers and other subcenters in between were connected by
the fancy new highways that I had now traveled on. Kangbashi was a planned center with
administrative offices, cultural facilities and residential areas – and the
Convention Center – popping up at a rapid succession. Kangbashi New District
was inaugurated in 2006. Apart from the fine new infrastructure, there was a
major greening effort that included planting 200,000 trees – I had observed
this on my first trip from Dongsheng to Kangbashi.
 |
| The Ordos Performing Arts Center & Ordos Cultural Center |
In the decade from 2000 to 2010, the Ordos municipality’s
population increased by 39% as some
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| Dongsheng by night |
At nighttime, all public buildings and monuments in both
Kangbashi and Dongsheng were brightly lit with colorful lights that shifted and
flashed forming impressive displays of lightshows. All of the electricity would
be provided by coalfired power plants implanted in the surrounding desert. From
my hotel room I could see a fountain sprouting water high up in the air in
different formations illuminated with spotlights constantly changing colors.
The high rise next door had an entire wall decorated with red and blue lights
in the pattern of flowing water. Every few minutes a car would pass on the
avenues below.
When I had some free time on a Sunday, I walked over to the
park. At its center was an artificial lake
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| The park in Dongsheng |
One of the first evenings I returned to the hotel hungry and
wanted to have dinner. It was about 8:45 pm and I had been informed that the
restaurant would be open until 9:30. My arrival caused considerable commotion.
The maître d’, an attractive woman in a black uniform with a short skirt and
black stockings, literally ran to the dining room and found that all other
patrons (if indeed there had been any) had already departed and the staff were
busy closing shop. Luckily there would be room service available. With the help
of the nice lady I was able to select a meal to be brought to my room. She
didn’t speak any English but there was an English menu and I picked a familiar
item: Kung Pao Chicken. She also took me to a room that served as their wine
cellar where I selected a bottle of local Great Wall red wine (not bad at all).
About 20 minutes later the same maître d’ showed up at my door with a waiter
carrying the food and wine.
 |
| Ms. Zhang |
On another night I repeated the procedure, went to the 2nd
floor restaurant reception, negotiated with the lovely maître d’ (by this time
I had learned that her name was Zhang) and ordered room service. Mongolian food
tends to be heavy on meat and this time my meal was diced beef with onions,
leeks and asparagus. It probably was the best meal I had in Ordos. Zhang and a
waiter again brought it up to my room. This time she stayed behind for a few minutes
and we took selfies with each other. She also showed me some photos on her cell
phone.
The selfie theme repeated itself several times during my
visit, so rare was the appearance of foreign creatures in these parts. Once
when I was returning to Dongsheng from the conference, the taxi driver, a
middle-aged man, stopped the taxi, whipped out his cell phone and asked whether
he could snap a selfie with me in the back seat. Of course, I had no
objections.
One evening as I returned to the hotel I was determined to
find somewhere else with a bit of life to sit and enjoy the scenery. I
descended to the reception where there were five or six employees behind the
counter. I tried to ask about where I could go out for a drink. This drew a
blank. Not a single one of the employees understood the word. No worries, soon
a young woman in pale blue ran to my rescue. Unfortunately, she was equally
lost. I suggested a ‘bar’, but neither was that word familiar to her. But she
did have an electronic dictionary and after consulting it for a while, she
looked up to me and asked: “So you want to go to a pub?” I said that a pub was
close enough and that I would indeed want to go to one. She consulted with the
receptionists who still looked lost. I suggested that hotels usually had bars, especially
big ones like the Tieniu, but learned that this was not the case in Ordos. We
went outside and consulted with two taxi drivers and came to the conclusion
that a pub did indeed exist in Dongsheng. So I jumped into the back of the taxi
and off we drove into the darkness. I was having second thoughts as the taxi
drove through empty avenues further and further away from what I had thought
was city center. We passed another smaller hotel in front of which we had to
wait as a bus let off a large group of Chinese tourists. We drove across a
parking lot and turned onto a street that appeared entirely dark. Lo and
behold, the taxi driver curved in front of a building where there indeed was a
pub. Hospitable as everyone I had met in Ordos was, the taxi driver got out of
the car, walked with me to the establishment and announced my arrival to the
staff. I was warmly welcomed as the smiling taxi driver bowed deep and
retreated backwards towards his waiting vehicle on the dark deserted street.
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| The pub |
I was ushered to a table. The place had a red theme, wooden
tables, and a prominent bar in the middle of the room. There were only two
other customers in the establishment, a youngish Western couple chatting over
beers at a nearby table. The staff consisted of a man and a woman who served as
waiters and another woman on the kitchen side who appeared to be the boss. The
man brought me a menu, which had some English and a few pictures. I saw there
were a few foreign beers, like Allagash White, but when the waiter suggested
the first item on the menu I gladly agreed. Soon I had in front of me a 1.5-liter
pitcher of local beer, which would put me back by about $1. I also ordered an
item from the menu having first ascertained that it was chicken (I ended up
shaking my folded arms as if they were the short wings of a hen and, as that
didn’t do the trick, drew a chicken on a napkin; by this time the boss had also
emerged from the kitchen and she nodded vigorously in affirmation).
The evening turned very pleasant. Little by little, after 9
pm local kids started to drift into the bar. They all looked relaxed and
dressed in jeans or miniskirts in a slightly punkish style. Some carried guitar
cases. They ordered beer and chatted. My chicken and beer did the trick and I
felt contended. On TV there was a Chinese historical fantasy drama where drop-dead-gorgeous women slashed bad guys with swords. The foreign couple got up and went
to the cashier to pay, only to find that their credit cards would not be
accepted and they did not have any cash. The boss emerged again from the
kitchen and a negotiation ensued. With sign language, the foreigners explained
that they lived in a nearby hotel and showed the hotel card. They promised to
come back the following day to pay, which I am convinced they would do (they
looked very decent). Luckily, I had found a Bank of China branch where I had
been able to withdraw cash for the taxi rides and other minor investments, so I
had no trouble paying the bill. The nice young lady who was the boss called me
a taxi and the male waiter escorted me to the dark empty street when it
arrived.
On the following evening after work I returned to the
shopping mall next to my hotel. I found the shop where I had tried to purchase
drinks on my first day. The same woman was behind the counter and her face lit
up when she saw me. She welcomed me warmly like an old friend and quickly ran
to fetch the bottles of local liquor I had failed to purchase the first time
around. This time I had cash and we separated thanking each other profusely.
Then in the basement where the food stores were located, I found a small café
that sold beer. It was weak and warm but wet and it made my day.
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| Ordos Municipality Government offices, Kangbashi New District |
On my last afternoon with all work completed I left the
Convention Center in Kangbashi and walked maybe 15 minutes alongside the broad
and empty avenues towards Ordos Museum. I passed the Kangbashi police
headquarters, a big square building flanked by a red flag behind a bank of
colorful flowers. Then the Kangbashi New District municipal offices that were
housed in four large blocks with a Genghis Khan themed monument in front.
I crossed the avenue, which was not challenging despite its
impressive width because of the sparse
The park was surrounded by some of the most important
buildings in Kangbashi, including the Ordos Performing Arts Center, the Ordos
Cultural Center, the Ordos Library and the Ordos Museum. They all had very
innovative contemporary architecture. I took a direction diagonally across the
park towards the museum, passing a very nice and imaginative patch of flowers
with larger than life sheep grazing in the middle.
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| Ordos Museum |
The museum itself was definitely worth a visit. The massive
building had an impressive contemporary design like a huge egg laid on a high foundation. It was designed by the Chinese architects MAD and opened in 2011. I walked around it in
the relentless afternoon sunshine searching for the main entrance (it turned
out that I started circling the edifice in the wrong direction and had to walk
around almost all of it to land at the main doors). The moment I arrived, I was
greeted by a young lady in the same pale blue uniform as those at my hotel, at
the conference site and even on the bus. From now on, I would be passed on from
one hostess to the next in a relay that would show me everything in the museum.
We started on the first floor with some contemporary art by local artists. Very
good, I thought. We then proceeded through prehistoric rooms with life-sized
woolly mammoths and dioramas of primitive people engaged in daily chores
accompanied by archeological finds, advancing through the history of Inner
Mongolia all the way to the Communist revolution (again dioramas, this time with
Red Guards guiding the local people), to collections of porcelain (that
disappointingly were not from the region but were on loan from some coastal
museum). At each floor, the current guide handed me over to a next one. All of
them were university students with an English major who had been brought here
for the duration of the conference. All were knowledgeable and very kind, but I
particularly liked one – a student from Hohhot University not far from Ordos –
who had a twinkle in her eye and dropped some subtle, yet very funny remarks
regarding the exhibits.
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| Museum insides |
I was genuinely impressed by the museum. Not only were the
exhibits very interesting and well done, but the architecture of the building
was beautiful. On the inside, sunlight pouring through strategically located
windows of different shapes created stunning patterns of light and shadows. I
asked the last of the ladies to allow me to wander around for a while by
myself. I took the stairs down from the top floor back to the entrance admiring
the architecture. On the ground floor, I was greeted by all the ladies who had
escorted me and led to the museum store. We also took some photographs with
ourselves.
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| The volunteers in the museum |
On my last morning, I got up at 5:30 and had a breakfast of
fried rice with egg, vegetables, steamed dumplings, tea and juice. Having
finished packing, I took a taxi to the airport. The trip through mostly empty
highways took some 45 minutes. The airport is truly beautiful but it, too, was
virtually empty. I was the only passenger at that early hour checking into the
Air China flight to Beijing. At the check-in counter, I was greeted by one of
the pale blue volunteers who helped me to get my boarding pass and directed me
to the beautiful lounge where a hostess in a silk uniform with a miniskirt
welcomed me. I again was the only customer, until three Chinese fellow
travelers entered and ended my peaceful reverie.
I felt surprisingly melancholy about leaving this place.
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