KOREA
Mongolians riding horses

(Photo by Erin Henderson)

Mongolia, a land of nomadic people and vast landscapes, appealed to me. In early March 2024, I embarked on a solo adventure, landing amidst snow-capped mountains. After a brief stay in Ulaanbaatar, the capital city, I found myself back at the airport, ready to fly to the western region of Ulgii. This was the start of a seven-day journey filled with unique experiences and cultural immersion.

The itinerary for the week included spending several days with nomadic families, witnessing a local eagle festival and culminating with the vibrant Nauryz New Year celebrations. As I landed in Ulgi, the smallest airport I have ever seen, I was greeted by my guide and driver for the week at the carousel luggage claim. My guide estimated a population of 40,000 in Ulgii, but the last census in 2014 showed a figure closer to 30,000. Regardless, the town, reliant on tourism, particularly in the summer when the mountains are open for hiking and camping, was a charming gateway to the nomadic lifestyle.

After collecting my luggage, we set off in a Land Cruiser, my trusty companion for the week. After a quick stop at a local restaurant for a meal and one last indoor bathroom break, we embarked on a journey to the countryside, where I would be staying with two nomadic families. The lack of electricity, running water, and bathrooms, save for lights powered by a large car battery, was a stark contrast to my usual urban lifestyle. As someone who had not grown up camping, this was a new and exciting experience for me. Yes, I could go four days without a proper shower or bathroom, right?

Nomad stays

Kabylkhakh Kuney, 81, in his home.

Kabylkhakh Kuney, 81, in his home. (Photo by Erin Henderson)

Tenelkhan Bugibay, 74, with grandson.

Tenelkhan Bugibay, 74, with grandson. (Photo by Erin Henderson)

Khaizm, eagle hunter from Sagsai Village.

Khaizm, eagle hunter from Sagsai Village. (Photo by Erin Henderson)

We arrived in the countryside as the sun set and were greeted by the first nomadic family. The home was a three-room concrete structure; the single light bulb in the kitchen was sourced from one small battery, and heat was from a cooking furnace in the “kitchen” area. I would spend the next two evenings with Beken, his wife, and their youngest son, Baku. In addition to being an eagle hunter and herder, Beken is a father of four, a talented musician, and quick with a smile.

That night, with the light glowing from that single light bulb, I dined around the table with the family, my guide Baku (not to be confused with Beken’s son, also Baku), and Adilbek or “Ada,” our driver. In Kazakh culture, horsemeat is a prime source of protein, especially during the winter months. As someone who is now down one gallbladder, introducing new things or anything that has a lot of fat is usually a recipe for disaster, and this particular disaster I was determined to avoid. I sampled a small amount of meat but stuck to the bread and soups during mealtimes. That night, after putting off the inevitable trek outside into the blustery cold evening, I finally put my headlamp on and mustered up the courage to use the great outdoor bathroom.

Pitch black outside, I wandered around briefly, trying to find the perfect spot. As I was settling into my place, I was suddenly startled by the four eyes that I caught in my headlamp. As my heart rate spiked, I realized it was not kidnappers coming down to take me; it was the yaks, taking in the sight of this American girl clearly looking like she was way outside of her element, and they wouldn’t be wrong. I hurriedly took care of business as the wind whipped around me. Then, I ran back inside to snuggle into my sleeping bag and blanket for the evening.

The next day was spent visiting several local nomad families and eagle hunters. At each home, we were welcomed with bottomless bowls of milk tea, candies, bread, and cookies. In Mongolia, it is tradition for the youngest son to live at home with his wife and family and help care for his parents. Though Mongolia has the sparsest population in the world, everywhere we went, there seemed to be no shortage of children at each home we visited.

I learned that in attempts to bolster the fertility rate, Mongolia offers awards and monetary compensation for families with four or more children. Mothers are awarded Second Order of Glorious Motherhood for having four or five children and $77 a month. Mothers are awarded the First Order of Glorious Motherhood for having six or more children and $154 monthly. Another title that has come under fire is Darkhan Ber, which translates to “champion” or “high-ranking bride.” This title and a medal are given to mothers with three boys in a row. Human rights activists say this behavior is discriminatory against mothers based on their child’s gender and against women who choose to not have children or cannot have them. Other Asian countries such as Korea and China have also used (and are still using) monetary compensation in attempts to increase their declining birth rates.

After a day of visiting nomadic families, we arrived back at Beken’s home. That evening, after dinner, we were serenaded with music from Mongolian and Russian string instruments and a bayan, a modern button accordion. After the music festivities ended, I once again curled into my sleeping bag for the evening, exhausted from the day’s activities.

The next day, we would move on to the next nomad’s home, where I was supposed to spend the next two evenings. I would get from Bekken’s home to the next nomad’s home by horseback. Though I felt like I was adequately prepared for the extreme cold, I caught a chill I could not shake after almost three hours on horseback in the wind. When we finally arrived at our next destination, I was shivering so much despite sitting next to the furnace and zipping into my sleeping bag for warmth.

It took hours for me to finally warm up. I had already been fighting a slight cold when I arrived in Mongolia, so instead of staying the fourth night in the countryside, I requested to head back into town where I could take a day to rest and recuperate. Despite knowing I needed to hydrate more with the elevation, I wasn’t doing as much as I should have because I wanted to avoid continuously going outside into the cold to do my business. This also factored into how I was feeling. Don’t do what I did; be smarter and drink those fluids.

After a day of rest, I felt much better and excited to head to a local eagle festival. Since it was March, this was the end of the season for the eagle hunters. They typically only hunt with the golden eagles during the winter months because in the summer, the eagles wilt, and the prey has thicker coats in the winter. Historically, Kazakh families used eagles in the winter to hunt small game like foxes and rabbits. This tradition is said to have been adopted around the 12th century. Today, it’s mainly used for sport, and the eagles are released back into the wild around the age of 10 or after hunting for five to seven years. Golden eagles have a lifespan of around 30 years.

The eagle festival

Eagle festival participants before the start of the event.

Eagle festival participants before the start of the event. (Photo by Erin Henderson)

Gathering around for a meal during the Eagle festival

Gathering around for a meal during the Eagle festival (Photo by Erin Henderson)

Eagle festival participates in action.

Eagle festival participates in action. (Photo by Erin Henderson)

The last small festival of the year was held in the Ulgii province amongst the Altai mountains. Participants were tested in three categories: speed, agility, and accuracy. In the first event, participants start on the mountain, leaving their eagle with a trusted friend or fellow hunter as they ride down the mountain when it’s their turn. They then call the eagle with a piece of meat, and whoever’s eagle comes to them in the fastest time from the call wins that event.

Sunset among the Altai mountains.

Sunset among the Altai mountains. (Photo by Erin Henderson)

Some eagles flew right away, others took a detour route, and one even escaped to start a new life. It was fascinating to watch. After a morning of eagle calling, we took to the ger’s to share a meal with the eagle hunters and fellow visitors.

After lunch, the next event kicked off to test participants’ agility: coin pick up. On horseback, they would ride and pick up a “coin” (stuffed ball) without stopping. There were many misses, a few falls from the horses, and fantastic grabs. The next event was archery on horseback, followed by tug of war on horseback. In the end, an overall winner and individual winners were crowned for each event.

Nauryz

Traditional Dance at the Nauryz Parade

Traditional Dance at the Nauryz Parade (Photo by Erin Henderson)

Traditional Mongolian wedding attire in Nauryz.

Traditional Mongolian wedding attire in Nauryz. (Photo by Erin Henderson)

Nauryz Parade

Nauryz Parade (Photo by Erin Henderson)

Playing Mongolian string instrument in Nauryz parade

Playing Mongolian string instrument in Nauryz parade (Photo by Erin Henderson)

The following day, the town of Ulgii hosted its annual Nauryz Parade. This celebration is held yearly during the vernal equinox, and the name means “new day.” This New Year is celebrated by several Central Asian countries, and countries like India, Iran, Georgia, China, and Turkey. The holiday symbolizes renewal, and the days around this time are spent visiting with families and loved ones. My guide, Baku, said they typically see around 40 families in the two days around the new year. He said his family came close to visiting all 40 families in one day one year!

On my last evening, sitting down for a final meal with Baku and Ada, I learned I was their first solo traveler. Typically, I love a good solo trip, but I will be the first to admit this trip was a little more difficult than I had anticipated. The remoteness, coldness, and lack of cell connection to my family back home was a mental challenge, though one I needed. My downtime with the nomad families was spent reading and journaling and really trying to be present in the experience as I knew it was one I may not have again for a long time.

Mongolia is such a beautiful country with such a unique culture. If you are considering a trip, I recommend going during the summer, when the warmer temperatures allow for more outdoor activities, including hiking and camping. The landscapes are some of the best I’ve seen, and should I get the opportunity to return in the warmer months, I will not hesitate to do so.

Speakin’ Mongolian

  • Hello: Sain uu

  • Goodbye: Bayartai

  • Hello! How are you?: Sain! baina uu?

  • I’m good, thank you: Bi saĭn, bayarlalaa

  • What is your name?: Tanii ner khen be?

  • My name is…: Minii neriig

  • Thank you: Bayarlalaa

  • You’re welcome: Zugair zugair

  • How much is this?: En hed ve

  • I am lost: Bi toorchihloo

Author’s Bio:

Erin Henderson is a professional freelance photographer and writer whose work has been featured in a variety of publications. She is also a mother of two and a Marine Corps spouse living in Stuttgart, Germany. You can find more of her work at erinhendersonmedia.com or follow her travels on Instagram @erinhendrsn.

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