While I can recognise a Shetland pony, I don't really know the difference between a horse and a pony. Some people seem to refer to them interchangeably, so I am forever confused. Such as it was, when writing out my travel dreams, one of them was to ride a Mongolian pony in the desert.
Before arriving in Mongolia, and for a long time after, I knew very little about the place (which is absurd, because I applied for an AYAD volunteer position based in Ulaanbataar in 2008, but I instead went to Nepal). What I did know is that they were horse people. Love horses, just love them. Horse carvings, horses painted on the sides of trains, horse souvenirs, horses where you find bicycles in every other country - hell, the national drink appears to be fermented mare's milk! Horses were something we saw just about everywhere we traveled in the country, and why we wanted to make it a part of our tour.
After leaving the yak herders and beautiful Terkhiin Tsagaan, we moved again into more barren terrain, to the home of a collection of gers all devoted to strengthening, breeding and training beautiful horses. Mongolian horses have somewhat of a wild streak to them (much like the people) and probably all horses do, but there's something in their eyes here that makes you realise you are not dealing with a household pet. We were to spend 3 days with these beautiful creatures, as we climbed to the mountains in search of not only reindeer, but a family of the Tsaatan people who herd and breed them. I'm actually not exaggerating about "searching" for them, because we literally did not know where they would be.
We learned earlier on the trip that Mongolians do not name their horses; we found this out because we asked what Bataar called his car, and the answer from Bimba was "he doesn't call it anything, just like Mongolians, we don't name our horses".
"Not even your favourite?" someone ventured.
"No".
"What about one you receive as a gift?"
"No.. and those are even more special, we don't even ride them...that's the crazy", she says. More on "that's the crazy" later.
Day 1 - Meeting the people
The afternoon of our first day here was remarkable. While Bimba prepared an evening meal for us, we were treated to a veritable show. The whole neighborhood (at least from gers within riding distance) had gathered outside Nara's family's home (Nara was our horse guide). Partly they had come because tourists had arrived and they wanted to get a good look at us, and partly because they were here to see the breaking in of a horse.
Matcha (our apprentice horse guide) had the unenviable job of saddling the unhappy star attraction while the old sages looked on. Young and old, women and men, toddlers and teenagers, all squatted within a safe distance, only occasionally mumbling a joke or piece of advice.
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| Lesson time |
The show only really began once the saddle was on, because another man climbed aboard and the horse fairly lost his temper and he raced off bucking and kicking to the horizon and we never saw the rider again.
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| And we never saw him again |
Strangely enough though, the horse was back the next day - Matcha had the job of riding it along with escorting the horse carrying all our gear! Man, it gave him a rough time.
Following the show, the group broke up and went their separate ways, the highlight was a 3 or 4 year old, standing on the back of Dad's bike!
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| Show's over, heading home with Dad |
Day 2 - Riding
My nameless dun-coloured horse, poor fella, as I am sure I was much too big for him, measured up to my expectations of an almost wild animal. He was not interested in pats, "good boy" comments or sugar cubes, or stopping when told to. He really wanted to go where we were going and then get back home.
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| Rob's horse had a chunk bitten from his hindquarters |
Kat had a chestnut horse which almost earned a nickname (until we remembered that we shouldn't) of "Bitey" due to his tendency to try to eat the other horse's butts. Strangely Kat's camel from the sand dune expedition shared this same tendency! Kat's horse was otherwise fairly cooperative, usually stopping on request and pretty happy to be alive. He did require a firm grip and Kat certainly found him more fun to ride than any other horse she has even met!
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| Kat striking a Mongolian marauder pose |
Our first day was spent walking steadily upwards towards a glacier near the Russian border (I was never able to find out the name), the vicinity of which we expected to find the Tsaatan family - for they were somewhere non-specific, in-between their winter and summer camps. Through open plains, windy hills, boggy marshes, lush green forests and pine-clad ridges we meandered, getting to know our horses (but not our guides who were almost basically silent). Bimba was (what appeared to me) an expert on the back of a horse and I think she loves it any time one of her groups goes on a riding expedition.
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| Kat & Bimba, the horse-whisperer |
Two dogs followed us all the way, and it took me almost the entire day to realise that they belonged to our guide Nara and weren't strays from a nearby ger-camp. They had a marvelous time finding their own way through the streams we crossed, digging out mouse and prairie dog holes and at one point terrifying my horse so much that it bolted (which is the part that terrified me). Before long we were back under control and I was still in the saddle, but my heart rate was certainly right up!
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| Kat taking a sneaky break with Bitey |
In the evening, we found the family, camped out in a clearing of a pine tree wood, not far from a thrashing stream. After the initial introductions they rather kept to themselves, except for helping us set up our own yhurt, complete with semi-permanent (as permanent as anything is in a nomadic society) stove/fireplace and introduced us to their magnificent herd of reindeer.
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| How to build a yhurt 101 |
The big buck, recognisable from his ridiculously humongous antlers fed alongside the 30-strong herd of varying ages.
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| Big man reindeer |
You could easily touch and feel their fur (not the antlers!) as they were very docile. Before we knew it, the reindeer were herded in for the night. I couldn't tell whether the baby human* or the reindeer were more adorable!
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| *Child might be cuter than a reindeer (look at those cheeks) |
They were all tied overnight, so they did not wander too far from where the family were staying. I think this was mainly because in-between camps they had no pen in which to house them, and they needed the mothers close by for milking in the morning.
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| Mama reindeer settling in for the night |
Day 3 - More riding and the glacier
A much slower and easier day, where we started to understand our horses a little better; we spent a few hours climbing the hill above our camp guided by the dogs to have a glorious view of the glacier.
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| Off to the glacier |
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| Matcha, Sarah, Kat, Tasha & puppy-dog winding up the hill |
We had a snow fight and just sat quietly, as far from anywhere as we have been on our entire world journey, soaking up the sound of the wind and the impermanence of our existence.
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| Even dogs like contemplating their existence |
Day 4 - Homeward Bound
Our horses seemed to know the route pretty well. So they knew that this day was time to go home. With most of the route downhill, it was all I could do to keep my horse from galloping all the way! Back through the same marshes and slopes, any time there was an open space he tried to go for it. Eventually we all had confidence enough that we let them go and BOY what a feeling! When the ger was in sight, I just needed to slacken the reins one little bit and he would go. I probably looked like a lame little Lost Boy, but I felt like the Man From Snowy River.
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Our crew: Tasha with Nara, his wife and son, Batar, Sarah, Kat and Rob
The best way to get the smile off a Mongolian's face is to pull out your camera! |
