Mongolia Monday- More Horses and an Interesting New Book

Continuing on from last week, here are some more horse drawings. I’m looking for interesting gestures and angles other than from the side.

mh-walkingmh-grazing2

mh-grazing

Next week I plan to do some sketches of various combinations of horses to see how they look.

——–

Here’s a link to a story that was on CNN last week. It’s about an autistic boy whose father and mother take him to Mongolia, both to be healed by shamans and to spend extensive time on horseback.

And, as it happens, a dear artist friend of mine just sent me an autographed copy of the book that has resulted from the trip, The Horse Boy. I’m only part of the way in, but it’s a facinating book on a number of levels- the treatment of autism, Mongolia, its horses and shamanism. I’ll do a review once I’ve finished it. Suffice to say for the moment that the author experienced the same patience, tolerance and good will that I have during my travels there.

Mongolia Monday- “Required” Reading, Part 2

Last week, we started with personal accounts by people who had lived in Mongolia as journalists or as a teacher. This week, it’s three selections from one of my favorite genres- travel writing. I’ve had some fun and “interesting” times on my travels and folks back home here in northern California think I’m very brave and adventurous. That’s as may be, but let me tell you, these books will put my travels into perspective in a hurry.

The first two, written about ten years apart, are the result of actually doing what a fair number of adventure travelers have probably considered or wish they had done: follow in the “hoofsteps” of Chinggis Khan’s Horde and travel across Mongolia by horse.

First up. Tim Severin:

severinTim Severin has made a name for himself re-creating famous journeys of the past and then writing compelling, informative and sometimes humorous  books about what happened. I first found some of them on a remainder table in an English bookstore and have since read as many as I can get my hands on. A few examples: his first foray was to cross the Atlantic in the same kind of small leather boat that St. Brendan used when he supposedly made the same trip (The Brendan Voyage). Another was to have a traditional wooden Arabic ship called a “dhow” constructed so he could retrace the voyages of Sinbad (The Sinbad Voyage). He has also traced the route of the Crusaders from Bouillon in France to Jerusalem. In 1987-88. On horseback. By which time there were somewhat different obstacles to overcome than the ones the original Crusaders faced.

Severin’s journey across Mongolia took place in 1991, when the country was in dire economic straits from the withdrawal of the Soviets and was beginning to create a new government and civil society from ground zero after 70 years of socialism. He had been asked to help a group of Mongols travel the route of the Mongol Empire’s amazing overland communication system that made it possible for messages to cross 2/3s of the known world, from Mongolia to the Danube in about two weeks. The grand plan for this journey involved riding, in stages, a distance equivalent to that between Hong Kong and London, around 6,000 miles. He jumped at the chance because “Here was the most wonderful opportunity for me to travel freely inside Mongolia, not just as an outsider following his own program, but in the company of Mongols who were committed to rediscovering their own history. It was an opening no Westerner had ever been offered before.”

After trip preparations that became a small saga in themselves, the expedition was on its way. “At first the ride was exciting and spectacular. There was the constant rumble of 100 sets of hooves, the shouts of the herdsmen, the mob of horses surging forward….and the sheer exhilaration of riding at a fast pace across unspoiled countryside…..Sure enough, after three or four hours, the well-remembered riding aches and pains set in…The hammering, jarring flat run of the Mongol horses was as excruciating as ever….I understood why the Mongol dispatch riders had found it necessary to strap up their bodies in tight bandages…..”

The account of the trip then moves forward, interspersed with lots of information about Mongolian history and culture. Obviously, highly recommended, as are the next two.

In Search of Genghis Khan, Cooper Square Press, 2003

in-the-empire

Stanley Stewart caught the Mongolia bug and nurtured the idea of going there for 25 years. In his 2002 book, In the Empire of Genghis Khan, Stewart, having made his way from Istanbul through Kazakhstan, finally finds himself being served dinner in a ger near the town of Bayan-Olgii in far western Mongolia. “Sated with sheep guts, we settled into after-dinner chat. Bold explained that I intended to ride across Mongolia to Qaraqorum, the ancient capital, then beyond to Dadal, the birthplace of Genghis Khan. Batur looked for me a long time without speaking. The plan was obviously too outlandish to merit comment…Batur saw no reason to try to dissuade me. Events would soon take care of that.”

As you might imagine, I really liked this description of the horses: “The relationship of Mongolian horses to the wild Przhevalsky’s horse of these regions has yet to be conclusively established (it has since been demonstrated that the domestic and wild horses diverged about 500,000 years ago) but presumably they share the same parole officer. They looked like the outlaws of the equine world….What they lacked in stature they made up for with attitude. They had carried the hordes of Genghis Khan to the gates of Vienna….Now they milled about on the slope below the ger, snorting and pawing the ground, a rabble looking for excitement and hostages. ”

Interestingly, both Severin and Stewart describe the morning process of saddling the horses as “a rodeo”.

Aided by a succession of patient interpreters, who changed out at each stage of the trip, Stewart makes his way across the vast empty interior of Mongolia. Well, not quite. “In Outer Mongolia, my social calendar was packed. Lunch invitations, drinks parties and dinner engagements came thick and fast. There were times when crossing the Mongolian steppe felt like a royal tour of which I was the unlikely focus.” All to say that, after a thousand years, the traditional customs of Mongolian hospitality are alive and well. I can personally vouch for that.

In The Empire of Genghis Khan, The Lyons Press, 2002, 2000

long-way-round

In their 2004 book, Long Way Round, Ewan McGregor (yes, that Ewan McGregor) and his good friend Charley Boorman decide that their lives will not be complete unless they ride their motorcyles from London to New York – by way of Europe and Central Asia. A four month jaunt of 20,000 miles, as it turned out. The reason I include their book on this list is that not only did they travel through Mongolia, but that out of all the countries they visited it was the one that grabbed McGregor and hung on.

Having finally made it to and through a border crossing in the far west that was normally only open to Russian and Mongolian goods vehicles “we rode into Mongolia, turned a corner and ran straight into a herd of yaks….” And a few minutes later, “We pulled into a clearing, where our local fixer, Karina, had been waiting for four days. She was very excited to see us and tied blue ribbons (actually blue scarves called “khadak”) to our bikes, a Mongolian shaman tradition used to bestow good luck on babies and vehicles”.

The book is largely excerpts from the diaries they both kept and, as many of you know, they were also accompanied by a small film crew. Ewan and Charley quickly find out that in most of Mongolia the word “road” doesn’t mean the same thing as it does in the west. Mongolia is not a country where you fly in, grab a rental car and head off into the countryside. Unless you have a GPS and are willing to spend a lot of time trying to puzzle out which of the endless braid of dirt tracks is the one you want, because there are no road signs. None. Not that you are all alone out there on the steppe. “At the top of the first pass, we came across a nomad on horseback with three camels and a couple of dogs. He was a stunning man, fine-featured and handsome, proudly sitting bolt upright on his horse. In the traditional garb of pointed leather herdsman’s boots, a Mongolian hat and several layers of heavy woolen clothing, he was grazing his camels at the top of the mountain. He looked so perfect and so at home in his surroundings that it could have been a hallucination.”

They do, of course, make their way to Ulaanbaatar, where they had made arrangements with UNICEF to visit some of the street children and also a center that has been set up to help them. “The conditions in which these children lived, even in a proper centre, hit me like a sledgehammer. A four-year-old girl was lying on the floor with her head against the wall. Her legs were withered and weak and she was trembling. It broke my heart to see her in such distress, so in need of love and attention, but so alone. I spent quite a lot of time with her, stroking her hair, touching her face and playing peek-a-boo with her. And then we had to leave. I hugged as many of them as I could, said goodbye and got into a car”. (Spoiler alert: I believe that after the trip, McGregor went back to Mongolia, adopted the girl and took her home to England with him, may great blessings be upon him.)

Finally, their journey took them north out of Mongolia and into Russia and Charley observed, “…I’d come to love Mongolia. It had been hell at times (Did I say that this isn’t the easiest place to travel?), but some part of me had actually relished the misery. I’d enjoyed meeting people along the road and I’d been blown away by the helpfulness of complete strangers. We couldn’t have done it without them.”

McGregor noted that “Riding across Mongolia had been incredibly demanding, but it had offered everything I’d been looking for on the trip, a pastoral paradise full of curious, open-hearted people who welcomed me into their homes because I was a passing traveler, not because I was Obi-Wan Kenobi on a bike…It had been like riding through the pages of National Geographic.”

Long Way Round, Atria Books, 2004

———-

If you are interested in learning more about the street children and how they are being helped, visit the website of the Christina Noble Children’s Foundation at www.cncf.org.

——

Next week: More books about the land and people of Mongolia.

Mongolia Monday- Tsagaan Sar=great food

We hosted our Mongolian friend, her husband and two other couples for a Tsagaan Sar party this past Saturday night. Tsagaan Sar is the Mongolian New Year and the name means “White Moon”. In Mongolia, it’s about three days of visiting, gift-giving and lots of food and drink. As I was thinking about what to post today, I realized that I haven’t written about the food and, when I poked around my photos, found that I’ve ended up with quite a few images (I take pictures of everything). So, here’s an “album” of Mongolian food, with commentary. My apologies in advance for any homesickness this may cause my Mongolian readers.

Salt deposit, western Mongolia
Salt deposit, western Mongolia

One of our stops when I was in western Mongolia in 2006 was this huge salt deposit. And, yes, we drove right out over that “bridge”. If you’ve ever played the game “Civilization”, then you can understand how this resonated with me. For how many thousands of years have people been coming here to get salt?

Harvesting salt, western Mongolia
Harvesting salt, western Mongolia

There happened to be two men doing exactly that. Some of our party had to give it a try. At the end of the handle is a scoop with holes in it to let the liquid run out. It seemed to be trickier to do than it looked, so the local guys were pretty amused.

Mongolian BBQ during the Earthwatch project, 2005
Mongolian BBQ during the Earthwatch project, 2005

The brown meat in the bowl is goat. The “Mongolian BBQ” that we get in the US is a Chinese invention and has nothing to do with how real Mongols eat. Their diet has traditionally been meat and dairy, diary and meat. Sheep and goats are slaughtered by cutting a slit in the stomach area, inserting a finger, hooking and pulling a vein (Thank you, Narantsogt, for the correction from what I had previously written. He has more info in the comments section) . Pretty humane and it keeps blood from going all over in a country where there isn’t extra water for cleanup.

Real Mongolian BBQ, Arburd Sands
Real Mongolian BBQ, Arburd Sands

Here’s the meat in the pot after the foal branding at Arburd Sands. We were invited, but it was getting dark and it looked like the guys were settling in for a very convivial evening that was going to run very late.

Goat meat, Khomiin Tal
Goat meat, Khomiin Tal

Sometimes the goat is simply butchered and hung up in the ger for use. I was told that this much goat meat would feed 3-4 Mongols for about two weeks. The humidity in Mongolia hovers around 10% max., so meat will keep in the dry air. On the other hand, the Mongols have been eating this way for centuries and have defenses against whatever might get into the meat. Westerners don’t, so we have to be careful what we eat. The head will be on the menu too. Nothing is wasted.

Meat for sale
Meat for sale

We stopped in a soum center (county seat) in western Mongolia for lunch. While we were waiting for our food, I saw these three ladies with meat to sell. They saw me take the picture and I went over and managed to tell them that I was from California. More smiles. Hope they sold out.

Buuz
Buuz

Maybe the most beloved item of Mongolian cuisine. Families make thousands of them for Tsaagan Sar. Generally the filling is mutton. I asked if I could take pictures and, from their expressions, their reaction was along the lines of, “Well, if you want to photograph something sooo ordinary, be our guest….What will those visitors think of next?” I guess the equivalent here would be taking pictures of a McDonald’s. I ate four. I practically had mutton fat running down my arm. They were one of the best things I’ve ever had when traveling. I can’t possibly miss them as much of the Mongols, but I’m really looking forward to my next trip.

There’s a recipe for buuz here. We’ve done them now with lamb and on Saturday we used ground beef. We are going to try to find mutton later this year.

On to dairy:

Aruul
Aruul

Aruul is essentially dried milk. Mare’s milk is heated up on the ger stove and separated. The solids (which Narantsogt says he remembers as cheese and yogurt) are mixed with water and flour and formed into a variety of shapes and put out in the sun to dry, usually on the top of the ger. It tastes kind of like an slightly acidic yogurt and is an acquired taste, I would think, for most westerners. It took me about three bites. Careful bites, with my molars, because this stuff is hard. But it’s the perfect snack food in the field. Pure protein.

Mongolian "clotted cream"
Mongolian "clotted cream"

We were visiting a ger adjacent to Hustai National Park and, instead of aruul, I was offered this: pure cream to spread on the bread. Oh my goodness. I really had to get a grip on my manners, because I could easily have eaten all of it. But one has to remember that the Mongols will give you the last of what they have and do without in order to meet their obligations as hosts and many live pretty close to the edge.

Then they handed me a glass, which I assumed at first was the usual milk tea. After a few sips it dawned on me that it had to be the legendary airag (or kumiss, fermented mare’s milk). This was in September, so it was very late in the airag season. It can be “problematical” for western digestive systems and the feedback loop is very, very short. I decided to throw caution to the winds and drank about 4-5 oz. No problem. Whew.

Airag, vodka, cheese, Arburd Sands
Airag, vodka, cheese, Arburd Sands

Last year, at Arburd Sands, we were hosted by a local horse trainer and his family, who have 300+ horses. So there was LOTS of airag. This vessel was full to the brim. Fortunately, we weren’t expected to drink the entire contents of those rather large bowls. I think the idea was more for the host to be able to demonstrate the household’s generosity by offering brimming cups. The vodka was Chinggis Khan Gold, I think, which was excellent. The little cubes behind it were a soft cheese. Also delicious.

Finally, a menu item that I have not had the opportunity to try yet, but which is probably as near and dear to as many Mongol’s hearts as buuz. That would be….marmot.

Siberian marmot, Hustai National Park
Siberian marmot, Hustai National Park

The Mongols who like marmot, REALLY like marmot. When speaking of it, they get this kind of far away look as if remembering every bite they’ve ever had and are savoring it all over again. I’ll leave the hunting details to another time. If any Mongols reading this want to send me an accurate description and/or account, I’ll gladly post it. The traditional preparation involves gutting the animal and removing the fur with a, wait for it, blowtorch. Then it’s cooked over a  fire. On a cultural note, it turns out marmots living in Mongolia are the original disease vector for the bubonic plague (Black Death) that hit Europe in the late 1340s.

When you’ve come in from the countryside, there are lots of good restaurants in UB, including…a Chinese-style Mongolian BBQ, which has proved to be very popular with the actual Mongolians.

BD's Mongolian BBQ, Ulaanbaatar
BD's Mongolian Barbeque, Ulaanbaatar

If you are going to Mongolia, get the Lonely Planet guide.

For more on Tsagaan Sar and things Mongolian, I HIGHLY recommend the Asian Gypsy blog.

Mongolia Monday- Sain Bain Uu!

Which is Mongolian for “Hi!” or “Greetings”. It’s pronounced, roughly, “sain” as in sandwich, “ban” as in bandaid, “uu” as in oval.

I’ve just downloaded what looks to be a very useful Mongolian language program from Transparent Language. The next trip is coming up in July and I want to be able to communicate better. Before my 2006 trip, I was able to  find a local Mongolian woman who tutored me in basic pronunciation and vocabulary, along with some simple sentences. It’s amazing how far you can get with: please, thank you, excuse me, yes, no, hello, goodbye, I like….., and knowing the numbers from one to ten. But it didn’t help when I heard a cool song on the driver’s MP3 player and had no way of asking who the artist was. I have a Lonely Planet Phrasebook and a “cheat sheet” from my tutor, but that’s not enough.

I have some familiarity with learning a new language. Spanish (see below), some basic Japanese (I can still count to ten!) when I was 14, two years of German in high school (wish I’d taken one year of German and one of French) and some Middle English and Anglo-Saxon in college. At one point I’d decided to teach myself Welsh. It was a short point.

Like many languages, Mongolian has sounds that don’t exist in English, so that’s a challenge. One travel writer describes spoken Mongolian as sounding like two cats fighting, but I’ve found that to be somewhat of an exaggeration. The guys seem to play up the gutteral sounds more than the women, especially in the countryside. There are rolled “r”s, which means that after 40 years, my stupid junior high Spanish class has finally turned out to be good for something. And there is a sound that is similar to the double “L” in Welsh. Vowels that are “doubled”, like in the sign below or in “Ulaanbaatar”, are audibly extended, as in Khan vs. Khaaan.  One of the sounds that I have found most challenging so far is “g”. It seems to be something like “uudo”, with a slightly rolled “d”, but I’m sure I’m mangling it into something hilarious. The Mongols are blessedly tolerant of anyone who takes a swing at their language and seem to appreciate the attempt.

Their alphabet is a close adaptation of  Russian Cyrillic and I’ll be learning that, too. It will be nice to be able to read at least some of the signs in Ulaanbaatar. Like these (I used to be a sign painter and still can’t resist taking pictures of signs that catch my eye). There’s just enough overlap with the Roman alphabet to be slightly maddening. You feel like you can almost read it, but no.

Khaan Bank, Hovd, western Mongolia
Khan Bank, Hovd, western Mongolia

Although, in this case, it was more the beautiful building that I wanted a picture of. But good to know that this is a bank, if one is running low of cash. One of the first signs I was able to read.

Gers and tents for sale at the Narantuul Market, UB
Gers and tents for sale at the Narantuul Market, UB

I took this photo partly because I had no time to inquire about details like prices and didn’t want to lose track of them since I would really like to get a tent like the one on the right.

Pet shop sign, Ulaanbaatar
Pet shop sign, Ulaanbaatar

Since my dog is a tri-color rough collie, the same breed as the dog on the sign, I had to get a picture. I’ve wondered since then if there are actually any collies in Mongolia. They certainly have a coat that would be handy in the cold weather. Lassie Forever!

Street sign, central Ulaanbaatar
Street sign, central Ulaanbaatar

Now, how could anyone resist a drink that will give them the energy of the Mongol Horde?

Mongolia Monday- Then and Now

I’m not sure that this photo, taken by Roy Chapman Andrews, is from Gandan Monastery, but the prayer wheel is certainly close in size and design to the one I saw there.

Large prayer wheel
Large prayer wheel

Here is the one I saw.

Large prayer wheel at Gandan Monastery, Sept. 2006
Large prayer wheel at Gandan Monastery, Sept. 2006

People had written on it with a variety of pens, probably prayers.

Gandan Monastery prayer wheel, closeup
Gandan Monastery prayer wheel, close-up

Mongolia Monday – Then and Now 2

I thought I’d start off the New Year with the subject that’s most near and dear to Mongolians’ hearts –  horses.

Here’s an old photo from the late 1920’s, taken on one of Roy Chapman Andrews’ Central Asiatic Expeditions:

Mongolian herder, late 1920's
Mongolian herder, late 1920's

Here’s a horse I saw this past September:

Mongolian horse, Arburd Sands
Mongolian horse, Arburd Sands

And here’s the herder who owns the horse. Other than the head gear, not much has changed. The long robe or “del” is the perfect garment for the climate and environment. And while I have seen herders wearing the traditional  pointed hat, they tend to be mostly the young men. Baseball caps are what one usually sees. The older men often wear snappy-looking fedoras.

Choidog, Arburd Sands
Choidog, Arburd Sands

On Friday I’ll be debuting my latest Mongolian horse painting!

Mongolia Monday- Then and Now 1

Looking through some of my books about Mongolia and magazines with articles about the country, I had that “I’ve been there” feeling a number of times, partly because not much has changed in some respects from when westerners first visited. So, I thought it would be fun to occasionally juxtapose my photos with the old ones, starting with Gandan Monastery.

Gandan Monastery- photo by Roy Chapman Andrews, late 1920's
Gandan Monastery- photo by Roy Chapman Andrews, late 1920's
Gandan Monastery, photo by Roy Chapman Andrews, early 1920's
Gandan Monastery, photo by Roy Chapman Andrews, early 1920's
Gandan Monastery, photo by Susan Fox, 2008
Gandan Monastery, photo by Susan Fox, 2008

Purely coincidental that I took my photo from almost the same position as Andrews.

Then, I was hoping someone could help me here. I really, really, really would like to get one of these tents and have had no luck so far. Can anyone get me a price and supplier? I could probably sell a half dozen or so here in the States. I might be able to pick them up in UB in July, but am open to suggestion.

Mongol summer tent; Maikhan?
Mongol summer tent; Maikhan?

Mongolia Monday Miscellany

The holidays are upon us and things are getting busy. The weather here in northern California has been unseasonably warm and sunny, with almost no rain. Very odd. On the other hand, winter has apparently arrived in Mongolia. There’s some nice photos here at AsianGypsy. Below is a picture of a pretty spring day (no wind!)  in UB, which brings me to the next topic:

Ger felt at the Narantuul Market, UB 2005
Ger felt at the Narantuul Market, UB 2005

One of the things that I noticed on my first trip to Mongolia was the number of shipping containers around town. I was told that when the economy collapsed, aid poured in and that a lot of it came in shipping containers. Lots of shipping containers. Really, really a lot of containers. Since Mongolia had nothing to send back out,  there they have stayed and been put to good use. If you think about it, it makes perfect sense. The Mongols are nothing if not resourceful, there were lots of containers and they are weather and theft-proof. So there is line of crates along one of the main roads where tires are sold, an area of them that house grocery sellers, etc.

Ger supplies, Narantuul Market, UB 2005
Ger supplies, Narantuul Market, UB 2005

These two photos are from the Narantuul (or, as some of you know it, the Black Market) Market in Ulaanbaatar. The containers line the outer edge of the parking lot. Since my interest was gers, my guide took me to the area where everything from complete gers to any and all the parts and furnishings were sold, all out of shipping containers. So, a few weeks ago, I saw this posting on Craig’s List, offering shipping containers for sale. We’ve ended up short on secure, clean storage at our now 3 year old house. I’ve needed somewhere to store extra frames for my paintings, older work, plus all my art festival gear and AirFloat shipping boxes, that is dry and bug-free. David needs to de-clutter the part of the garage he uses for his shop.  I also remembered a book I have that discusses how the Japanese traditionally had secure free-standing buildings in which to store their valuables and seasonal items that were not in use (that would be, for us, holiday decorations).

You can see where this is going, right? We’ve almost got the space cleared and the 20’x 8′ shipping container should arrive in a week or so. Mongolians would be shocked at what we are paying for it, but for what it is, on a per-square-foot basis, it’s a deal. It will, however, lack “style points”. I’m going to take a cue from Frank Lloyd Wright, who observed that doctors can bury their mistakes, but architects can only plant vines. We’re going to paint the thing a neutral green, put lattice up along the outboard wall and plant rambling roses and other big vines like a climbing hydranga (canes up to 80′ long). The inboard side will form a wall for a carport on which we can hang our ladders. The door will be the aesthetic challenge, but I’ll think of something. Environmentally it makes sense since we’re re-using something, not using resources for new construction. It may be a marker of where we are in life that both of us are really quite excited about all this. Sufficient storage, The Final Frontier! Thank you to the Mongols for a great inspiration!

MORE POETRY!

On a cultural note, most of what is known about the early history of the Mongolian people is contained in the Secret History of the Mongols, which I plan to blog about in the future once I’ve read it. In the meantime, in Simon Wickham-Smith’s Mongolian poetry anthologies is this, from Chinggis Khan himself:

Statue of Chinggis Khan, Government House, Ulaanbaatar 2008
Statue of Chinggis Khan, Government House, Ulaanbaatar 2008

CHINGGIS’ ADVICE

I don’t worry about my own humble body,
I do worry that my great state may weaken.
I don’t worry about my own constitution,
I do worry that my great country may be distressed.
Should my humble body be exhausted,
Still my great state shall not weaken.
Should my own constitution suffer,
Still my great country shall not be distressed.

Physical strength can see off one alone,
But mental strength can see off many.

One skilled in words becomes wise,
One skilled in swordsmanship becomes a hero.

Head for the mountain pass,
Head for a place to ford the river,
Don’t be overwhelmed by the distance,
Just keep going.
Don’t be overwhelmed by the weight,
You’ll lift it if you make the effort,
Immense river fords,
Don’t be faint-hearted because you’re far away-
If you go along, you will come out on top,
Don’t hesitate believing that is heavy-
If you exert yourself you will lift that up.

Words of Chinggis Khan were noted in decrees and books and called Chinggis’ advice.


Mongolia Monday- Poetry Special, Part 2

For Part 2 of this special post, here is Simon Wickham-Smith sharing how he became involved in things Mongolian, along with a little information on translating literature from one language into another. His comment about the number of precise words that exist in Mongolian for some parts of their world and culture reminds me of hearing that the Inuit have 37 names for snow, but no generic term as occurs in English.

Gandan Monastery, Ulaanbaatar 2006
Gandan Monastery, Ulaanbaatar 2006

Simon Wickham-Smith: My own involvement with Mongolian literature started when I was a Tibetan Buddhist monk in Scotland during the 1990s.  I became interested – obsessed might be a better word – with the life and writings of the 6th Dalai Lama and, during my research, came across a reference to Danzanravjaa, a nineteenth century nationalist, scholar, poet and Buddhist monk.

I had already studied Mongolian for some time during the early nineties, and now I started to read and translate Danzanravjaa’s collected works.  When I finally finished this work, in 2005, I felt that, really as a matter of courtesy,  I should write to someone in Mongolia and let them know what I had done.

Thus it was that I came into contact with Gombojavin Mend-Ooyo, one of Mongolia’s most famous literary figures, who invited me to Ulaanbaatar the following year and for whose Mongolian Academy of Poetry and Culture (www.poetry-culture.mn) I have now translated ten books, with at least four more in the pipeline.

The act of translation from any language is a subtle and nuanced negotiation, but when dealing with a source culture which is so very different from the target culture, a number of problems appear.  And so it is with Mongolian.

Painting seen at the Mongolian Artists' Union, Ulaanbaatar 2006
Painting seen at the Mongolian Artists' Union gallery, Ulaanbaatar 2006

The number of words used to describe the natural landscape, animals and animal products, and the movement of the heavens are so detailed and precise as to be effectively untranslatable into English, short of adding phrases or entire sentences to the mix.  This, together with the morphology and structure of the language, means that simply recording what is said in the original becomes a restructuring of thought and a reinterpretation of culture.  Once these concerns are settled, then the literary work can begin, and the rhythm, sound and development of the text finessed.

Over the next five years, the Mongolian Academy of Poetry and Culture intends to publish more translations and to encourage scholarship in both Mongolian and English.  As for me, I am soon to embark upon postgraduate work at the University of Washington’s Jackson School, with an emphasis on Mongolian literature.  Moreover, I am also co-director of the Center for Central Asian Literatures in Translation at UW (www.depts.washington.edu/ccalt), which is hoping to increase the profile of literature from across Central Asia.

I’d like to thank Susan for letting me benignly invade her blog.  I hope that the work that she and I, along with many others, are doing, will encourage people to investigate Mongolian culture and, in particular, its literature.

Statue of Chinggis Khan, Government House, Ulaanbaatar 2008
Statue of Chinggis Khan, Government House, Ulaanbaatar 2008

You’re very welcome Simon! It’s a pleasure and a privilege to have you participate here. The following poems are a little on the longer side, but I think that they really show a side of the Mongol people that Westerners, raised on the idea of Chinggis Khan and his Horde cutting a path of destruction across a large chunk of the world, don’t realize exists. If nothing else, it demonstrates our common humanity across time and space. Not a bad thing these days.

Jargalant at sunrise, Khar Us Nur National Park 2006
Jargalant at sunrise, Khar Us Nuur National Park 2006

A DELUDED ASCENT OF MOUNT CHUN SHAN
Khubilai Khann (1215-1294)
(Yes, that Kublai Khan)

One a day blessed by good fortune,
I climbed up a blue bluff.
I stepped carefully on the ground,
So as not to destroy the landscape.
The flowers glowed red,
Like rainbows.
A beryllium light glistened like mist or smoke or blue haze.
The bamboos along the streams grew green from rain fall and spring water.
The wind blew through the mountain pines with a wonderful fluting melody.
I paid my respects
At the sacred temples,
And returned with the aid of Indra.
And controlled the dragons.

Western Mongolia 2006, "expedition" group shot
Western Mongolia 2006,"expedition" group shot; two German graduate students, myself, the American, and the Mongolians who made it happen; Jargalant in the background

LOVE ONE ANOTHER, MY PEOPLE

Love one another, my people, while you are alive.
Don’t keep from others whatever you find beautiful.
Don’t wound my heart with heedless barbs, and
don’t push anyone into a dark hole.
Don’t mock someone who has gotten drunk,
think how it could even be your own father.
And, if you manage to become famous,
open the door to happiness to others!
They should also not forget your kindness.
To someone who is lacking a single word of kindness,
you should search for it and speak it out.
Whether outside the sun or at home when it’s mild,
don’t spend one moment at rest.
Don’t use harsh words to complain, you women,
about the young man you remember.
Speak lovingly of those who loved you!
Let them remember you as a good lover.
Our lives are similar,
our words constrict our throats the same way,
our tears drop onto our cheeks the same way-
things are much the same as we go along the road.
Wipe away a halt woman’s tears without a word,
talk your lover up when she’s tripped and fallen!
Today you’re smiling, tomorrow you’ll be crying.
Another day you’re sad, and the next you’ll be singing.
We all pass from the cradle to the grave-
if for no other reason , love one another!
People must not lack love on this wide earth!
I grasp happiness with the fire of my human mind,
the golden shines lovingly upon us all the same, and
so I think that loving others is the path of life,
I understand that to be loved is a great joy.

O Dashbalbar (1957-1999)