TOXIC AIR TEARS APART FAMILIES IN MONGOLIA
Parents are sending children far away from the capital to countryside
IN the world’s coldest capital, many burn coal and plastic just to survive temperatures as low as -40°C — but warmth comes at a price: deadly pollution makes Ulaanbataar’s air too toxic for children to breathe, leaving parents little choice but to evacuate them to the countryside.
This exodus is a stark warning of the future for urban areas in much of Asia, where scenes of citizens in masks against a backdrop of brown skies are becoming routine, rather than apocalyptic.
Ulaanbaatar is one of the most polluted cities alongside New Delhi, Dhaka, Kabul and Beijing. It regularly exceeds World Health Organisation (WHO) recommendations for air quality even as experts warn of consequences, particularly for children.
Erdene-Bat Naranchimeg watched helplessly as her daughter, Amina, battled illness virtually from birth, her immune system handicapped by the smogchoked air in Mongolia's capital.
“We would constantly be in and out of the hospital,” said Naranchimeg, adding that Amina contracted pneumonia twice at age 2, requiring several rounds of antibiotics.
This is not a unique case in a city where winter temperatures plunge towards uninhabitable, particularly in the districts that rural workers moved to in search of a better life.
Here, row upon row of the traditional tents — known as ger — are warmed by coal, or any other flammable material available.
The resulting thick black smoke shoots out in plumes, blanketing surrounding areas in a film of smog that makes visibility so poor it can be hard to see even a few metres ahead.
Hospitals are packed and young children are vulnerable, common colds can quickly escalate into life-threatening illness.
The situation was so bad that doctors told Naranchimeg the only solution was to send her little girl to the clean air of the countryside.
Now aged 5, Amina is thriving. She lives with her grandparents in Bornuur Sum, a village 135km away from Ulaanbataar.
“She hasn't been sick since she started living here,” said Naranchimeg, who makes the three-hour round trip to see Amina every week.
“It was difficult in the first few months. We used to cry when we talked on the phone,” she said.
The levels of PM2.5 — tiny and harmful particles — in the city here reached 3,320 in January, 133 times what the WHO considers safe. The effects are terrible for adults, but children are even more at risk, in part because they breathe faster, taking in more air and pollutants.
Buyan-Ulzii Badamkhand and her husband need to stay in the capital for work, but they have decided to send their 2-year-old son Temuulen more than 1,000km away.
The 35-year-old mother-ofthree struggled with the decision, even moving from one ger district to another in the hope her son’s health would improve.
But bouts of illness, including bronchitis that lasted a year, finally convinced her to send Temuulen to his grandparents.
Hours after he arrived, she called her mother-in-law to discuss her son’s medicines.
“But my mother-in-law asked me ‘does he still need medicine? He isn’t coughing anymore’.
“I tell myself that it doesn’t matter that I miss him and who raises him. As long as he is healthy, I am content.”
The persistent smog has caused tensions in the city, with those living in wealthier areas blaming the ger residents for the pollution and even calling for the tent districts to be cleared.
But the ger residents say coal is all they can afford.
To tackle the problem, the local government banned domestic migration in 2017, and a ban on burning coal comes into force from May.
But it is unclear whether the moves will be enough to make a difference.
For Naranchimeg, the problems are serious enough to make her consider whether she wants more children.
“Now, I am terribly afraid to give birth again. It is risky to carry a child and what will happen after it is born in this amount of pollution?” she said.