Proud People of Mongolia

I am in the Hangayn Mountains of central Mongolia, and there is no sign of any century except the 13th.

The steady rumble of thousands of hooves is broken only by the shouts of the herdsmen and the crack of their whips. A dozen nomadic families on horseback, with all their possessions loaded on camels, are herding their sheep and goats north across the frozen landscape,following the seasonal ebb and flow of grazing vegetation. Their ancestors have done this for hundreds of years.

This is the Mongolia of my imagination, a place so distant that it is a metaphor for remoteness, sparsely populated by descendants of bloodthirsty barbarians who rampaged across Asia centuries ago. It's a nation long isolated by its harsh landscape and, in more recent times, held in the grip of the Soviet Union.

I have come at a pivotal time in this nation’s history. Although democracy is still a concept in one neighbour (China) and faltering in another (Russia), Mongolians in 2005 voted in their ninth open, contested election since 1990. Like many Mongolians, my guide Battogtokh, a 52-year-old environmental scientist who has just returned from three years of study in the US, is an ardent supporter of democracy. “Even though many people were better off economically under the Soviets, Mongolians do not want to return to those days,” he tells me.

The transition can be startling: in the capital city, Ulaanbaatar, ride-sharing can mean two on a horse, and a home in the suburbs is a ger – a teepee that is the traditional home of nomads. But the fruits of free enterprise are everywhere. At the City Nomad Restaurant in the heart of downtown Ulaanbaatar, there’s a photo of the street outside taken in 1979 that shows not a car in sight. Today the site is boiling with traffic and people. At the State Department Store, shoppers stroll past displays of computers, designer jeans, kitchen gadgets, caviar, champagne and travel guides to Europe and North America.

But how has the rest of the country changed? Is the new spirit of democracy thriving there? And what of the Mongolia of my imagination – the land of steppes, desert and mountains? To find out, I embarked on a 3000km, 12-day journey with Battogtokh as my guide. Our driver is Otko, a former taxi driver who has built a one-man business carrying people around Mongolia in his prized UAZ 469, a rugged jeep originally built for the Russian Army.

Even in mid-June, the air in the Hangayns has some winter in it, and suddenly nature bares its teeth. It begins as gentle rain. Soon snowflakes are descending, then hail batters our jeep’s metal roof. We stop near the top of a mountain and step out. I feel a cold wind cut into me. A thunderstorm rolls in, and fangs of lightning bite at the leaden sky.