| . | ||||||||
|
KHAN-DO SPIRIT RULES MONGOLIA As
you sit out on a cafe-terrace somewhere, enjoying the sun, I'm
standing on a dust-choked plain 18,000 kilometres away, facing a
sight that terrified most of the world a few centuries ago. About
300 horses are galloping right at me, ridden by a literal horde of
Mongolians wearing pointed hats and flowing robes, and clutching
ancient bows and arrows. But before this ghostly apparition can
reach me, the riders are forced to stop at a busy highway crossing,
where speeding cars and buses swerve desperately to avoid them. I'm
about a mile from Ulan Bator's International Airport, where
Mongolian hordes must now compete for the right of way with harried
airport commuters.
The
scene I've described is one of many strange images I've seen here in
Mongolia, a remote country sandwiched between China and Russia. It's
a place few Westerners know anything about, apart from high-school
memories of Ghengis Khan and his infamous "hordes." But
I've been here several weeks, working on a documentary film, so let
me tell you a little about this exotic country that time and the
world have forgotten. At
first sight from the air, Mongolia looks like an immense green golf
course, waiting for some pushy U.S. developer to discover it. The
country is about the same size as Quebec but far emptier, populated
by camels, horses, sheep and other livestock that outnumber human
beings by 12-1. There
aren't many fences here, so all these animals roam freely across the
bumpy dirt paths that pass for highways. Often, these animals are
pursued by 6-year-old shepherds on horseback, who belong to nomad
families that populate the countryside. Nomads
live in big tents, called gers, that change locations with the
seasons. Many have no electricity but in some areas you'll see a
satellite dish outside. "I
love watching MTV," said a young teenager in jeans I met riding
by on horseback, who spoke by interpreter. "My favourite music
is gangster rap - especially Public Enemy." I
arrived in Mongolia in time for Nadaam, a huge festival when armies
of nomads on horseback converge for competitions that haven't
changed much since the 15th century. Sumo-style wrestlers in
loincloths wrestle in the mud, then do "eagle dances" when
they win.
Ancient
archers in spectacular robes compete with bows made of reindeer
bone, though safety regulations could use some updating - since I
saw a judge get hit in the neck. Hundreds of people ride bareback in
chaotic 30-kilometre races, in a country where most people own a
horse, not a car. This
nomadic way of life is an astonishing reminder of Mongolia's
remarkable history, going back to the 13th century. That's
when Ghenghis Khan, the world's most maligned Mongolian, swept
across Asia to create the greatest empire in world history. It
lasted two centuries but eventually fell to the Chinese, who ruled
Mongolia until early this century. Then
Mongolians came under the power of another new empire: the Soviet
Union. In 1921,
Mongolia became the second country in the world to turn communist
and spent 70 years as a loyal Soviet satellite. In return, the Russians turned the nation's sleepy capital, Ulan Bator, into a modern industrial city, a booming town with a third of the country's 2.3 million people. They
created factories, apartment blocks and lavish social services that
made Mongolia one of the healthiest and most educated places in
Asia. But there was a terrible price. "Under
Russian rule, we lost all freedom of speech, and our culture was
suppressed," remembers Tungaa, my Mongolian interpreter.
"Our country's official hero became Vladmir Lenin - and even
Ghenghis Khan was outlawed." Mongolian family names were also banned, and today most people have only a first name, like Ganzorig, a waiter in my hotel. He
says: "My family stopped using their family name so long ago
that we no longer know what it is. My brother tried to find out, but
no one could remember - so my only name is Ganzorig." In 1991, the Soviet Union finally fell apart, bringing Mongolians freedom - and chaos. When the Russians pulled out, Ulan Bator's factories all closed overnight and three-quarters of the population was suddenly unemployed.
Many tried to return to nomadic life, including some Ulan Bator professionals who became herders like their ancestors. But a few brutal winters destroyed their livestock and sent these neophyte nomads scurrying back to Ulan Bator. Says
one 20-year-old girl I met: "I'd only been on a horse once
in my life, then suddenly my family decided we were moving back
to the land. It was awful when winter came. "Our
cattle died, our tent collapsed and some other herders had to take
us in. We didn't know what we were doing - and finally we came back
to the city." With
the Soviets gone, another figure quickly returned to Mongolia:
Ghengis Khan, whose face is now all over the landscape. I've
drunk Ghenghis beer and Ghengis Khan vokda, and eaten at the new
Ghenghis restaurant and the new Ghengis Khan hotel. I've seen the khan's face on the country's new currency and postage stamps as well as on election posters for the country's new democratic party, with a slogan saying: "Our party leader too was born in the dust of Mongolia."
Yet for all this country's difficulties, Mongolia's survival is a bit of a miracle, as any visitor can see. For most of its history, this small country was ruled by either China or the Soviets, yet today it's an independent nation that's one of the freest in this part of the world. In
the last few years they've held national elections that border on
Canadian in their attention to democracy. The most recent featured
a fiesta of rock music starring popular young bands like Lipstick
- the "Spice Girls of the Steppes." Two elections ago, Mongolians voted for an American-backed party that promised a Newt Gingrich-style "Contract With Mongolia." But they made such a mess that Mongolians recently voted back in their old Communist leader, who's swore to govern "just like Tony Blair."
This small country still faces enormous problems: a large new homeless population, a devastated economy and a lack of interest from global businessmen, who are investing trillions in Russia and China. But Mongolians are an optimistic, educated people with a nearly 100-per-cent literacy rate. They have plenty of natural resources and a rising tourist trade fascinated by their nomadic ways. The people I've met seem determined to put their tiny country back on the world map - in more civilized fashion than Ghengis Khan once did. And it's hard not to root for Mongolians, once you realize they're here.
home | issue special | culture | arts | environment | lifestyle | ||||||||
| . |
The Mongolia Today Web site is designed and produced by Online LLC, Mongolia.
