If it’s light, duck behind a ger; if it’s heavy there’s a tent with a view.
I didn’t think my introduction to Mongolia would see me getting to grips with toilet etiquette and so soon.
Life with the nomads is uncomplicated. Hence there I was hiding behind a ger, hoping nobody would see me during daylight, and keeping far closer to our sleeping quarters at night in total darkness apart from millions of stars to accompany me. Ah, and not forgetting the inquisitive 200 goats, 50 sheep, a few cows and an excitable dog.
During our trip I became very familiar with the different toilet offerings, from ‘au naturel’ (often with not a single plant to hide behind), to the ‘long drop’ – work that one out for yourselves – and the ‘short drop’ once a ‘long drop’ but well passed it fill-by date. Occasionally there may even be a seat, but so low down one struggled to get up again!
One day as we were travelling off road in our UAZ Russian military vehicle we spotted what looked to be a large bird perched in the landscape. Perhaps it’s a vulture or is it an eagle? We drove closer – only to find it was a lady going about her ‘business’. She was lucky – we had not got out our telephoto lenses!
Our trip to Mongolia provided us with so many experiences we had not had before and likely will not have again. They were mostly good, apart from our ger catching fire one night. More about that in a later posting. A ger is a large round tent, known in other parts of the world as a yurt. They are seen throughout Mongolia and have the advantage of being transportable – deconstructed in a couple of hours and reconstructed in a further two hours, it is quite an art form. They are the very essence of nomadic life and all the family or community pitch in with this moving and re-building activity.
During the summer the gers are placed in grassy steppes where the nomads’ animals can feed. Father is the herdsman, assisted by his sons. A common sight is boys as young as four herding the animals alone and very successfully. In the winter the ger may be moved to the shelter of the mountains, or packed away while the family moves to a more permanent house the father may have built, where his penned herd will be fed on hay.
Within 24 hours of landing in Mongolia we were in the heart of nomadic life. Our itinerary included three homestays with nomadic families and a lunch visit. Looking back, these were the most enjoyable, unforgettable and educational experiences of all. Other nights we stayed at ger camps, some marketed as eco-friendly, others plain traditional usually without en-suite facilities.
Our first stay was with a park ranger who, along with his family, lived outside the Khustai Nuruv National Park in his ger. His job, when not herding, was to enforce the law within the park and guard against frequent poaching, particularly marmot and deer hunting. One of the biggest crimes in Mongolia is livestock theft. He was involved with research as well, which included recording plant life. A further role was to ensure tourists were not camping off road, which was a tall order considering the park stretches across 200 square miles. All of this he achieved on his motorbike.
It is etiquette for visitors to bring a gift for the family agreeing to take in tourists. They do, rightly, get paid for the guest stay. We arrived with gifts of vodka and biscuits. Never have I seen a bottle of vodka go down so quickly, but it was shared between hosts and guests – neat, mainly.
We all sat around tables to share the food Pyamba, our hostess, had prepared for us. Generally, everybody eats with their fingers. Our host, Sanjaa tore off meat from the sheep’s cooked carcass for us. This was one of his own flock, as is the norm. This was accompanied by succulent potatoes and what we would describe as homemade coleslaw. Meat is cooked in one large pot (at least 18 inches wide) with onions, carrots and potatoes. The resulting stock at the end of cooking is served as a soup. The meal cooked in this way was very tasty and real comfort food, providing a feeling of ‘just like mum makes’. Homemade yogurt is often served as well, along with fermented milk (more on that another day). Vegetables are sparse as the growing conditions in some parts of the country are not suitable, and all fruit is imported and at eye-watering prices such as £3 for one apple, which is prohibitive for most families.
The Mongolian diet of the past had been wholesome. Herders needed a high fat diet for warmth and energy which they got from a predominantly mutton diet. Today, more sugar is available leading to diabetes and dental decay not previously seen.
Covid incidence in Mongolia, we were told, was very low, but vaccination was mandatory if a person wished to be employed in any job. Just as well really as vodka, or milk, is passed around in a small bowl for each person to drink from.
Another tradition is the sharing of snuff bottles. This is an honour. Our host shared his snuff bottle for us to sniff and pass back to him, each of us in turn. All gifts or items are passed with open hands from one person to another whether it be in a ger, restaurant or shop.
In a traditional nomadic home the males herd the animals, taking them away from the ger to graze by day and returning them by night. The men are also responsible for maintenance of the home and surroundings. Meanwhile the females take on what we might know as a ‘housewifely’ role – rearing the children and grandchildren, cooking and decorating the inside of the ger. Following changes in recent years women were given equal rights. This has enabled some to be employed, but they still carry out the ‘housewifely’ tasks.
It is interesting that the contents within the gers are limited. There is not a lot of space. Cupboards are filled with clothing the women have made for the whole family, and kitchen utensils. This is because, when the gers are taken down and moved – often by camel – the contents of the house must move with them, and this is done at least twice a year.
Sanjaa, our host, shared with us his thoughts on the future via our interpreter guide. “For the older generation the nomadic way is peaceful, but for the young it is different,” he said. All children must attend school, these are state and privately-owned, taking youngsters up to the age of 18. From there they will often go on to higher education maybe in the capital Ulaanbaatar (or more familiarly UB) living with relatives, or travel overseas. Once the children experience the life in UB and the influence of social media they do not wish to return to herding. Many move on to the US, especially Chicago and LA. Those males who do want to go back to the family find it difficult to find wives who are willing to return to nomadic life. The nomadic way is declining.
This is a concern for the older generations who see this way of life diminishing – bear in mind that the herd is used as a source of meat and milk and for selling on to others. The goat wool is sold for very soft garment making and the sheep wool for felting (a frequently-used product). The decline in herding would not only affect the family, but the country as a whole.
The nomads also have a great sense of community. Our host told us that he only goes into the capital perhaps twice a year. This is because other community members take it in turn to purchase items for their neighbours. If someone might need to go to Ulaanbaatar for a longer stay, hospital for example, other community members will look after their herd.
Nomadic life seemed very safe for Mongolians and tourists. We were frequently told how there aren’t locks on the doors and a passerby could call at a ger for an unannounced visit and stay overnight if in need. In fact, in one remote area our guide called at a ger to see if we could have lunch within the community. This was readily granted, and we had some incredible experiences, but more about that later.
Copyright: Words and photos Sue Barnard 2022