For our final few days we took a flight west to the Bayan-Ulgii province to see the Eagle Festival. Our first night was spent with eagle hunter Aiu and his family. After all the entertainment and ankle bones games of the night before, Aiu invited us to see his eagle in action. He had won many awards at previous Eagle Festivals, but due to family commitments would not be attending the two-day event. However, he was keen to show us up close the skills involved in this highly-respected Mongolian tradition.
We watched Aiu set off on horseback with his 10 kilo bird resting on his outstretched arm. Once we arrived at the mountainside his son took the eagle up the mountain. When there, Aio tied some (deceased) prey onto a rope to attract the bird back.
Then, calling out with a sound only his bird would recognise, the eagle came flying down from the mountain top to catch the prey. Aiu stayed on horseback throughout. It all happened so quickly and efficiently. Keep in mind that when not performing the bird would be used for hunting small animals and foxes, all of which is carried out for the family’s use with nothing wasted, and is not hunting for sport.
Aio explained that just one female chick is taken from a nest, and is trained by the hunter who will keep the bird for six years. At that time, it will be released into the wild so that it can breed. The hunter then attempts to find his next chick. Most hunters are male, but there has been a film made of a very successful female hunter, although she is a rarity.
The bird was flown from the mountain top on several occasions for us to get a close-up.
It was then time to leave our host and travel to the festival site at Sagsai. Here we would sleep and eat in gers for the next three nights. This, in itself, proved another interesting experience. The evening would end right after supper had been eaten within a communal ger, simply because it was dark! There were no lights at all outside so with a head torch we would make our way back to our ger, up and down the undulating ground, which was well trodden by cattle, who left their mark everywhere!
A fire in each ger was welcoming (well mostly, more of that in a minute), but the fire would burn out in an hour or two. Hence, the night was freezing, and all you could see of me was my nose poking out of the blankets. I wish I had a photo of that. Our guide would come in at 7am to relight the fire so we could start to defrost about 30 minutes later. The water for washing was freezing, literally. Even the liquid soap was frozen!
But what was that about the somewhat unwelcoming fire? On our first night our guide came into the ger to talk with us. I heard a swishing noise outside and asked what that was. “It’s probably some maintenance,” she replied. That was puzzling as it was 9pm and pitch black outside. I suggested we might take a look.
As we walked outside we found out what the swishing sound was. Some of the drivers were throwing water over our roof. The embers from the chimney had fallen down on the plastic and felt roof and caught alight.
We had been totally unaware of the fire – there was not a sound – and it was only by chance that it was found. A driver had been walking behind our ger, possibly to get firewood, and noticed it. The fire was at the rear of the ger where nobody would have need to walk, so we were most fortunate. Thankfully, we lived to see another day, and this was full of entertainment.
First up was a demonstration of the dismantling of a ger and the packing up of its contents, which were then taken by camel to the festival site. There, the ger was rebuilt. There is a special procedure for this, and it became apparent having watched an interactive demonstration a few days previously at a museum.
The rebuilding starts with the lattice walls being erected in a circle and the pre-made door added. Then the centrepiece of the ger roof is hoisted into place. This is a wheel with wooden spokes, to which wooden roof struts are attached. Fabric roofing and walls are added to the outside, before women decorate the inside. This whole procedure takes about two hours to take down for the experienced (two days for the inexperienced!) and a couple of hours to rebuild.
Once we arrived at the festival, nearby, we found there was a whole host of activities. This is serious stuff, winners receive prestigious awards. As we saw at the home of Aiu, his awards are proudly displayed on the walls.
First up was some eagle hunting, the fastest result is the winner. We watched in anticipation as, one by one, each eagle was taken up the mountain while his trainer, on horseback, waited on the flat ground nearby to us.
The hunter was ready, the eagle was ready, the audience was ready. The hunter made his call. It was mighty windy. The eagle was released. We watched intently as it rose to the sky. And it rose some more, and some more, circling high above us.
Unfortunately, there it stayed. That strong wind was making it difficult for the eagle to hear the call. Deflated, we waited. Just how do you get an eagle down from way up in the clouds? We were not to find out anytime soon.
Eagle hunter number two arrived. The procedure began again. Up the mountain side the eagle was taken. All set, the eagle hunter made his call. The eagle set off. It rose into the sky. And rose again. Instead of heading to the eagle hunter, it headed to the first eagle on the loose. Both circled way above us, as if to take the mickey.
By this stage we were in fits of laughter. It brought back memories. We have an annual community event at a local park nearby us. We attended this year to watch the dog show, an event for residents’ dogs. Not one did as it was told – don’t work with animals and children comes to mind. The start of this eagle hunting competition seemed to be just the same.
A few other birds did fly to their hunters successfully but, because of the wind (oh, and a third lost bird) it was decided to postpone further flights until the following day.
Other events followed with riders having to pick up a small cone from the ground while riding at great speed on their horses. Not falling off their horses while doing this is quite an art.
On the second day the eagle flights were resumed which had 100% success as the wind had dropped. This was no consolation for the hunters whose birds had flown – keep in mind that it takes years to train the animals, and this was the first time they had flown since the outbreak of Covid.
But there were more interesting events to come. One included couples racing across the land together. The fastest couple won the event. However, there was an added twist. Each woman held a rope or stick with which she would beat her ‘husband’. Well the women seemed to enjoy it and the men were willing participants, as a win could earn them yet another award. The audience enjoyed the speed with which it was acted too.
But what about that ‘Tug of wot’ I have mentioned? This was actually called the Tug of War, but I think the title was ill-conceived. This actually involved a goat (dead I would add), and headless. Two riders on horseback would lift the hefty beast and attempt to pull it from the competitor while on the fast-moving horse. Some attempts were short-lived, but others went on for up to 10 minutes. At times, the uncontrolled horses (the riders were intent on grappling with the goat) would head straight towards the onlookers. On several occasions, with the fighting pair in my lens sight, I thought I was getting a really good photo, only to realise they were coming straight for me! Actually, I did get some very good photos, but looking at them I feel they are rather too graphic to include on this occasion.
All of this could seem quite shocking for some, but it is tradition and is carried out in a competitive way with skills developed from one year to the next. What was really touching was that the older, more experienced, hunters, apparently let a far younger hunter win the tug of war. This, we were told, was to encourage other young potential hunters to compete in future years. Without the newcomers, yet another tradition will be lost.
And there was more good news, at least for one eagle hunter. On the second day of the festival he returned to the site to look for his lost eagle. The eagle had landed. It was perched on the mountainside. Alas, the other two eagles had done a runner.
The following day we made our way back to Ulaanbaatar for our journey home, with great memories. Living with and interacting with the nomadic people gave us an insight into a culture we would not have achieved had we not travelled Mongolia in this way. The nomadic people appeared happy with their lives, although recognising that the young may not necessarily follow in their footsteps. One wonders, with all the trappings of the Western world, who is most happy with their ‘lot’.
Copyright: Words and photos Sue Barnard 2022