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Milking my yaks, Uyanga 2005 |
Autumn in Naiman Nuur National Park, Uyanga 2005 |
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Letter 1.
26th February
2005
Dear good friend,
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| Frozen
nostrils and mountains of mutton
Dear All,
Today spring might have arrived! The sun is shining and the air feels
warm. It is about minus 18 today, so I guess it isn't exactly the European
definition of spring but here it definitely seems appropriate! When I
first arrived here in Mongolia I had to get used to very very cold weather,
making your nostrils freeze after 1 minute outside and forcing you to
limit any walking to a couple of hundred meters. After 1 week here I headed
to the countryside with one of my Mongolian friends - we were to celebrate
the lunar new year (one of the most important annual celebrations) with
her family. In Mongolia, the new year is a time when you visit your relatives,
friends, lamas, teachers, etc. At each house you are being met with the
most intense hospitality, almost force-feeding you with as much mutton
as you can possibly contain accompanied by lots of "ovliin airag"
(fermented mare's milk of the winter - FYI the milk has been standing
3 months by the time it is served!!! It is very strong and sour...) and
vodka, of course! It has been a lot of fun and during that week I think
I have already gained my first 3 kg!!
That week was also my first real introduction to Mongolian language this
time around. During the initially formal conversations I quickly knew
what I was being asked (always the same questions!). However, the longer
the visit lasted the more drunk everybody got and the more unpredictable
were both people's questions and my answers. When I returned to Ulaanbaatar
I was VERY motivated to study Mongolian language and am now having private
classes 5 days a week with a really good and encouraging teacher. It is
hard work, though. These days have been a bit of an emotional roller coaster
where I one day feel my language competence improves rapidly and at other
days it feels like MOngolian was never meant to be learnt by foreigners!
I keep at it though - in only 2 months Casey and I will be living in the
countryside with a local family...so I better learn as much as possible!
I have started working for the Ongii River Movement, an organisation of
herders who are worried because the local river is drying out. A couple
of years ago 2 of the herders travelled along the river and noticed intense
gold mining activity, in particular at the head of the river. Today this
area has been labelled "the ninja capital" (illegal miners are
called ninjas because they look like 'ninjas' when they walk to and from
the mining sites with their large washing basins strapped to their backs),
hosting more than 4000 illegal miners. In addition to the illegal gold
mining, 3 Mongolian mining companies and several other non-licensed companies
are exploring for gold as well. As gold in this area is generally obtained
by washing the soil for heavy particles, a lot of water is needed. Furthermore,
as it has become common practice to add mercury to the dilluted soil before
adding more water, the river now shows very high levels of mercury concentration
and most trees along the banks have died (the idea is that mercury amalgamates
with the gold, making the particles even heavier and thus easier and faster
to separate from the soil). The mercury pollution has had severe consequences
for the people living in the area as they now struggle to find suitable
drinking water both for themselves and their herds. To make a long story
short, I am now working for this organisation as a volunteer and will
help them with translation work, internet research, improve information
material, and the like. As gold mining in Mongolia is clouded in secrecy
and scepticism it has been incredibly rewarding and interesting to get
involved with this little organisation. Now I just can't wait til Casey
arrives and we will go to the country side together...
Many happy hugs,
Mette
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My husband and I, Uyanga 2005
| My herding family's Tsagaan Sar altar during the lunar new year celebrations,
Uyanga 2006
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Letter 2. 26th
May 2005
Dear good friend,
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| Milking yaks
and learning how to be subordinate
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Casey and I
have just returned from the countryside after an exciting initial stay with
our new herding family in a region called Ovorkhangai, about 14 rough hours
drive west of Ulaanbaatar. We've been lucky to end up with incredibly nice
and hospitable people in the most beautiful valley between forested mountains.
Casey says it reminds him of a hidden corner of rural western Montana. After
our first night sleeping in our cozy ger, we woke up the following morning
to fresh snow and plenty of herding tasks to learn. So before long we found
ourselves milking yaks, herding sheep & goats, collecting dung and firewood,
and fetching water from a nearby frozen stream. There is no shortage of
work to do this time of year as the springtime has brought many newborn
animals to be looked after. Our family takes particularly good care of the
little ones, allowing the weakest animals to spend the night in the ger
with us (this sometimes means little sleep for us when a baby goat cries
all night!).
Life here is all about the animals. In terms of local diet, people live
almost solely from the meat and milk products of their animals, which for
us has of course taken some getting used to (and some serious weight-gain!!!).
They even depend on yak dung to heat their stoves for cooking and keeping
warm, so literally everything that comes from animals is valued as a resource.
The people we live with have been anxious to have us participate in their
daily work and teach us the seemingly infinite rules for living in a ger.
Much of our first week was spent ignorantly transgressing house taboos on
where and how to sit, lie down, pour tea and even situate our clothes and
shoes in the ger. Many of the rules center on the all-important alter at
the northern side of the ger, which contains fotos of past lamas, family
ancestors, Buddhist texts and images. Our Mongolian 'mother' always places
a small portion of any food and drink on the alter as an offering while
saying a prayer, being it a major meal, some candy or the seemingly regular
serving of vodka. Our Mongolian "father" spends much of his time
with his prayer beads both while herding and inside the home. Every late
afternoon when he comes home after a long day of herding the 200 animal
herd he collapses on the bed next to the stove with his prayer beads in
hand and expects a quick serving of salty milk tea.
From the very first day our mother made it clear to Mette that she was to
carry out most domestic tasks. This meant spending a lot of time with our
mother preparing meals and drinks, serving the daily flux of visitors, doing
the dishes and general cleaning around the ger. Whilst Mette has thus been
taking up a relatively subordinate position, Casey enjoys the respectable
position of a married son, thus being woken up with early morning cups of
vodka and receiving mountainous portions of food alongside our dad. Just
about all meals consist of the same foods (meat, fat, dairy and flour) prepared
in different ways, whether as soup, dumplings or a dry dish. Whilst our
parents are very interested in having us participate in all tasks around
the household, they rarely accompany their requests with any instructions.
This has meant a lot of hard learning and amusing situations - we definitely
provide our family with much entertainment!!
We plan to spend the next week here in the capital before returning to the
same family in the countryside. So now we're taking advantage of this opportunity
to eat vegetables and check e-mails. Things are going really well here,
and we look forward to spending more time with our new Mongolian family.
We hope you're all enjoying a nice summer in warm and sunny places. We would
love to hear from you when you get a chance.
All the best,
Mette and Casey
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Children dressed up for Tsagaan Sar, Uyanga 2006
| Family visit during Tsagaan Sar, February 2006
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Letter 3
28th March
2006
Dear all,
After two months in the countryside I'm now back in the capital, enjoying
the seemingly luxurious city life. My first shower since midJanuary was
wonderful and having fruit and veg again seems like total rejuvenation.
The winter in the countryside was cold. Not so much in terms of extremely
low temperatures but rather having to work outside despite the relentless
wind and having a ger where you could always see your own breath despite
being inside. Yet the greatest challenge of them all was the food. I thought
last year was tough but I realised it was merely preparation for what
the winter had in store: no vegetables at all, no dairy apart from the
occasional milk tea, left was only meat and flour…flour in its multiple
variations: steamed noodles, boiled noodles, steamed bread, and fried
bread. When my Mongolian friend came to pick me up in the countryside
I explained to her the word "detox", the title of Mette's first
week in the city! Once my older brother in the family bought a mandarin
(one of those suddenly appearing goods from China that you don't see again
for a long time) and he gave it to me because, as he said, "you like
these things, right?" I carefully peeled the mandarin, surprised
by its juiciness. The first bite stung. It felt like my throat was burning
so sweet yet tart were its juices. Second bite was like heaven on earth.
I am forever indebted to my older brother!
When I left for the countryside I intended to stay with my favourite herding
family for one month and then move on to my other, less favourite, family
and stay there for the second month. However, it being winter, cold, no
food, no work and no Casey I didn't feel up for the ultimate challenge
of staying for a whole month with people I don't like that much. So I
ended up leaving for the difficult family when I had only two weeks left.
But things took an eventful turn at Njambyy's (the difficult family).
I got really sick there with high fever and felt weak but since I had
left most of my stuff at my other family's place I had to go back there.
It was a long and cold motorbike ride across three mountain-passes and
when I finally arrived my fever was raging. I lay on the bed and was comforted
by my sisters when my dad appeared, drunk. He sat by my side and told
me some honest words: "Njambyy's have gone mad! They have cast curses
on you. That's why you are sick!" Already feeling ill, I grew increasingly
uncomfortable and worried - why would they cast curses on me? And how
to get healthy again? As I sweat through my fever the next couple of days,
the questions multiplied and seemed to grow in urgency. Upon recovering
my family allowed me into the world of nasty beings, spells and black
magic by telling me more about my illness that was combated with a mix
of anti-biotics, incense and mantras. They told me that at Njambyy's "gold's
misfortune" flourishes and can be directed at people, attacking them
until they fall ill and maybe even die. At Njambyy's most of the now adult
children work as ninjas or gold traders and often come back to the ail
(family cluster of gers) with friends from the mining area, thus bringing
with them upset powerful spirits. "You have stayed with us for a
long time now. You're not from their ail anymore. You have become vulnerable,
like a child. If Degidsuren (the crazy mum) for example wanted to she
could make all these invisible beings, ghosts and witches, attack you".
I asked why she would ever do something like that. "Oh she is a very
jealous person" and they told me that black magic is not something
you ever confront the instigator with. You let it pass, just like you
do with the dung thieves or aggressive drunkards. The other thing about
black magic is that you never really know who did it. The uncertainty
disables any direct link between the instigator and the recipient, and
in its place grow rumours and suspicion. And a place like the ninja mining
area gives ample opportunity for this fear to grow. I hear stories about
the mining area that would make it hard for a little child to sleep. The
stories are told by visitors and re-told by family members, and if we
were to see them as a Levi-Straussian myth its title would be: A mysterious
death in the dangerous mining area. The main person is sometimes a child,
sometimes an adult but the final line is always: the ninja mining area
is a dangerous place! The stories' multiplicity scares me but I also see
that as their purpose: I'm staying with a very traditional herding family
who hates ninjas for everything they do. They don't like that I'll go
to the mining area, so they make sure that I've heard all the stories
at least once….Since Casey and I will be going there in May, I have
talked at great length with my family about precautions and what kind
of incense that will protect us so we don't fall ill again from gold's
misfortune.
When I left my family a couple of days ago, it was a very difficult and
emotional moment. Even though it's the time of scarcity they gave me their
last milk, telling me that in the capital I would not be able to drink
their good milk, only bad Russian stuff. They gave me their last dried
milk curd which we had been eating when the hunger really stroke. These
are the only items with slight nutritious value and accepting such gifts
was very difficult, knowing what they were left with. In addition, they
gave me generous money gifts (Mongolians always give money when someone
is going on a long journey) also at a period where they have no monetary
income. They only get money from selling milk and at this time of year
there's none to sell. As they kissed me goodbye I fought against the tears.
I knew I was going to see them again, even quite soon. But having spent
2 months with the same 10 people, day in and day out, the thought of even
being apart for a day seemed impossible. Our area is now very very dry.
The river has dried out and we have been collecting snow that we could
melt for drinking water. The day I left was the first day when we had
no more snow to collect. As I travelled towards Ulaanbaatar I couldn't
help thinking about how incredible people my family is. They are the only
ail left in the valley, everybody else has moved away because of the drying
out but my family refuses to move away. They are from there, the children
were born there. This coming year will show whether or not they as well
will have to leave.
I hope this little greeting is finding you all happy and healthy.
Many hugs,
Mette
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| Precious cashmere, Uyanga 2005 |
Quiet summer day at my first herding family's, Uyanga 2005 |
Letter
4
22nd May 2006
Dear all,
An unexpected turn of events has brought Casey and I back to the city
much much earlier than intended. We had just settled into the very
different life style of our new hosts: ninja miners, when my face started
to swell up like a balloon. As my jaw bone dissappeared from view and
my throat seemed to become one with the rest of my face, I guess I
lived up to the Mongolian name of the disease, namely "swelling like
a pig", also known in English as mumps…With fever and pain I
was lucky to have Casey by my side as we made a 24-hour journey back
to the capital and finally got me to the hospital. Having received
the doctor's smiling verdict of "impressive swellings" and a handful
of painkillers, any optimistic thought of going back to countryside
the next 2 weeks had to be quickly abandoned and instead a long, unwanted
stay in the capital is in the waiting. Apparently mumps can in rare
cases develop into Meningitis, so we have to stay close to the hospital.
Albeit our stay in the ninja mining area was short, it sure was eventful
and disturbing. Our hosts are a couple in their late 30s who live in
the Uyanga mining area where they both work as illegal gold miners.
The musculear body of the man testifies to a long and hard life as
a ninja, reversely matched by a seemingly lack of subtlety in mind
and tactfulness when it comes to dealing with marital problems over
drinking, lying and other social interactions. His wife strongly dislikes
the mining area; an area where the husband has lived on his own for
8 years while supporting the family and paying for the children's education.
Their 16 year-old son came with his class mates for the weekend to
work in the deep mining holes. Even though the kid was rough and tough,
the weekend proved disturbing not only to the novices of Casey and
I but also to the little family. It was Saturday evening, and Casey
and I were starting to wonder why our host parents had not yet returned
from the day's mining. We narrowed the options down to two possibilities:
they were either drunk or something bad had happened. Unfortunately
the latter was the case. A guy told me around 9pm that our host mum
had fallen into a mining hole 7 metres deep and had broken her leg.
She would arrive any time soon. I was shaken by the news, having just
arrived in the mining area and not knowing what to expect. And when
I saw the old truck arrive with a wooden make-shift stretcher on the
back with a tight crowd of people around it, I started to get really
worried about our host mum's health. It was all really crazy and I
won't be able to go into the great detail the evening still occupies
in my memory. However, that night our host mum was kept going on equal
servings of vodka and pain killers, calling for people to sit by her
side and hold her hand as she screamed "What will happen to me? It
hurts sooo much! My 2 children! Will I die?" An old herder designated
as the bone-setter forcefully massaged the woman's leg, making her
let out deep panicked screams whilst her husband held down her upper
body and everybody else tried to hide their growing pools of tears.
A hand-made wood splint was strapped tightly to her leg in order to
stabilise the injury, men pulling on each side with their full weight
the straps of cotton to make it as tight as possible. I couldn't help
fear that if the bone-setter's hard fingers hadn't done enough damage,
then this dangerously tight bandage sure would. That night I don't
think anyone slept. Since we had to leave for the capital because of
my comparatively minor health problem, we still don't know today how
our host mum is doing. All I can say is that I'm anxious to go back
to them as soon as possible. My thoughts are with them. |
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The largest ninja mining area in Uyanga, August 2006
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Ninjas working, May 2006 |
Letter
5
20 September
2006
Dear All,
I have
now come back after my officially last bit of fieldwork in Uyanga
and it was hard to leave. I had feared the farewell for days in advance,
knowing that I wouldn't be able to hold back the tears. Several days
before I left, the little wonderful 4 year-old grandson who usually
fills the ger with laughter and joy asked me if it was true that
I was soon about to leave. I confirmed his question whereupon his
smile disappeared and he said quietly: "But Met, you can't leave.
You have to milk your yaks, right?"
The next couple of days he was glued to me, sat next to me as we took
our meals, looked towards me as I was milking my yaks. My sisters and
I were busy those last days; we had a wedding to attend (which meant
Mette's first public singing of a Mongolian song…), pine nuts
to collect in the forest, horses to ride, Danish cookies to bake and
of course the most anticipated 'farewell party' where we women would
drink and sing. Needless to say, we had a lot of fun and the departure
day seemed to approach so fast. On the morning of the departure day
my mum cooked extra nice food for me (ie. less fatty), my parents showered
me with dairy presents (for as my herding dad says: "In the capital
you won't be able to get our good milk!") and as I was about to leave
to get on the motorbike dad waved me over. He told me that every day
I would be away they would light a butter candle for me on the altar,
making sure that I stayed healthy and happy, yet also awaiting the
day of my return. I had become a member of their ail (household), he
said, and we will think of you until we see you appearing across the
steppe. Dad recited prayers and mum made milk offerings as my brother
and I left the ail, leaving a cloud of dust behind us, making no one
see my tears that had finally appeared.
The last
couple of months in Uyanga have been full of crazy events and wonderful
visits. My parents and parents-in law came for a 2 week visit in
July, a close friend from the UK made a surprise visit some weeks
later and Casey came in August for 4 weeks. Casey and I stayed in
the mining area and even though it is not the most romantic nor pleasant
part of Mongolia, we still met lots of great people and gained incredible
insights into a working world that is so rough, tough and merciless.
As for
our previous host mum, who broke her leg in a mining accident in
May, her news was not the best. She was eventually taken to hospital
and the bone was indeed broken and had started to heal in a wrong
position. Her leg is thus many centimeters shorter than the other
and she can't walk, even with crutches. After Casey left, I stayed
with a lama in the sum centre (nearest village) and I was surprised
to learn the very close relationship between ninjas and lamas. After
the ninja mining took off around year 2000, the local lamas' workload
grew substantially and so did their income and plausibly drinking.
The lama I stayed with spent more than half his time on ninja-related
matters. Ninjas would come to his home to ask for advice, fortune-telling,
protection against upset spirits, treatment of illnesses or carrying
out funerary rituals. Since the ninjas' digging into the ground and
panning in the river has upset the spirits so much, the scared mining
grounds are now seen as only inhabited by black spirits that attract
people with a black 'soul' (eg. thieves, criminals, etc.) and cause
illnesses and deaths to all others. Vodka libations and money offerings
are carried out regularly, both by ninjas and lamas, in attempts
to appease the spirits whose generosity allows people to find more
gold. Yet as the lama explained vigorously to me, "The ninjas are
very concerned with the spirits but they don't really understand
the situation. They think that by making offerings they find more
gold and won't have accidents. The ninjas are greedy and just want
more gold, seeing the spirits as an obstacle to achieving their goal.
All they think about is money! But it doesn't work like that. Their
very actions of mining are disrespectful to the spirits and bring
the ninjas bad karma. They have to stop what they are doing before
all the good spirits will leave us and only the black powerful spirits
remain". The doom day atmosphere in the lama's home was in stark
contrast to the miners' hungry quest for the nugget - this summer
several people found gold the size of fists, worth more than 35'000
USD in local trade. It has been incredibly exciting and challenging
to do the fieldwork in Uyanga and I am just happy that in case I
manage to continue with academic research I will always come back
here. It is not over yet! I not only have my hopeful future work
to do, but also my yak cows and a family to return to!
Many hugs,
Mette |
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| Increasing numbers of ninjas use techniques similar to those of the
formal mining sector |
A landscape of old mining holes |
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