Mongolia – Faces of a Nation

Gandantegchinlen Khiid

The Gandan monastery or Gandantegchinlen Khiid was established in 1838. Between 1911 and 1913, a palace was built in honour of the then eighth and last Bogd Javzandamba, with the Megjid Janaraiseg statue. The reason for the construction was the fact that Javzandamba had lost his sight. Megjid Janaraiseg means “God who watches over all living things and who looks in all directions”. At 30 metres high, it was the tallest construction in the settlement at the time. Javzandamba lived in this temple until his death. It contained a gilded statue of Buddha, 26 metres high.

Gandantegchinlen Khiid

Gandan is the most important and the largest Buddhist monastery in Mongolia and is located in the capital Ulaanbaatar. It represents the Buddhist focus for the country. During the anti-Lamaism campaign in 1937, all the larger temples in the monastery were razed to the ground and the gilded statue was also removed to be made into munitions. Nobody knew exactly where the statue was taken to. It was probably taken to the then Soviet Union. Practically all the monks in the monastery were murdered at this time. In 1944, parts of the monastery were reopened. It was only used as a place of worship rather than as a monastery in the true sense of the word. During the Communist era, the years from 1944 to 1990, there was no other place of Buddhist worship in Mongolia other than Gandan. In this time, the state administration had a certain influence on the monks and vice-versa. The highest priority was given to the control of those who professed the Buddhist faith.

In 1996, the newly rebuilt Megjid Janaraiseg statue, made out of 19 tons of gilded bronze and taking 6 years to build, was returned to its original location in the Megjid Janaraiseg Temple, in a solemn ceremony. Today, within the enclaves of the monastery there are six temples with the names Dashchoinpel, Gungaachoilin, Idgaachoinjinlin, Jud, Megjid Janaraiseg and Dechengalba, a university, a library, a school for the creation of statues of Buddha and a general elementary school. The students in the so-called vocational school learn about the making of statues of Buddha and the painting of the Buddhist tapestries, tankas. Pupils at the elementary school are taught the same subjects as in all other elementary schools. Anyone can choose to go there. The library contains over 48,000 books, including 101 volumes of the Golden Ganjuur, the Buddhist catechisms. The courses offered by the university, which was established in 1970, include Buddhist Philosophy, Astrology and TMM (Traditional Mongolian Medicine). Currently, a staff of 14 lecturers are available to teach the 210 students.

One artefact remaining from the original Gandan is worth a mention. It is an old wooden beam that survived the wave of destruction that swept through the country in 1937. Mongolian Buddhists still revere this time-witness from the past, today. It is located not far away from the current Megjid Janaraiseg Temple, somewhat removed from the centre of activity.

Das größte Kloster in Ulaanbaatar – Gandantegchinlen Khiid mit der goldenen Janaraiseg-Statue.

The legend: ”White Tara“

When Buddha saw the hard life that the people were living, he started to weep. And the 21 tears he shed turned into the 21 female Taras. The Taras are good spirits for all mankind and they symbolise humanity. Twenty of the Taras sit in an open cross-legged position, so that they can stand up quickly if someone needs their help. Only the White Tara sits in the so-called lotus or closed cross-legged position, as she has eyes in the soles of her feet and in the palms of her hands so that she can observe and protect the people.

Many years ago, there lived an elderly married couple who had just one son. When the father died suddenly, the son set off into the world to study. “Go my son and study while I am still alive,” said his mother. “I will wait for you and when you return, please bring a White Tara with you,” she continued. The young man went to Tibet, and through his studies achieved enlightenment. He lived a contented life and completely forgot about his mother. On his return in autumn, he didn’t know where to look for his mother as she might already have moved into winter quarters. He also didn’t know what she would look like after the long years of his absence. He was worried that he wouldn’t recognise her again. Suddenly, he belatedly remembered his mother’s parting request to him and wondered what he should do. As he didn’t have a White Tara, he picked up a white stone from the ground and wrapped it in a khadag, a blue Mongolian prayer cloth. When he found his mother, she asked him whether he had studied a lot in Tibet and whether he had fulfilled her request. The son replied by telling her that he had studied a great deal abroad and that indeed, he had brought her a White Tara. He asked his mother however not to unwrap it and always to keep it covered by the khadag. For three years, his mother prayed to the white stone in the hope that it was a White Tara. When she reached eighty, she felt that her time had come to die. She begged her son to be allowed to see the White Tara. There was no way out for the young man and he unwrapped the white stone. To his great surprise and relief however, the stone had actually turned into a White Tara, thanks to the firm and devout belief that the mother had had in her son.

The legend: “River Tuul“

The King of Heaven had three extremely beautiful daughters. The oldest of the three was called Kherlen, the middle one was called Onon and the youngest was called Tuul. After the three sisters had grown up and reached adulthood, the king married off his oldest daughter to the Pacific. The middle daughter was married to a foreign sea. The youngest daughter however, remained single and stayed at home with her father. The two elder daughters never paid any attention to their aging father and also never returned to their homeland once they were married. This displeased their father greatly and he said to the two of them that he never wanted to see them again because they were married so far away from home. For that reason, they were forbidden from ever returning home again. Since this time, the rivers Kherlen gol and Onon gol flow out of the country while the river Tuul gol remains in Mongolia.

The Sky Resort is a skiing paradise outside the gates of the city that attracts a lot of visitors in the winter.

Here at the Khar zakh (Black Market), the residents of Ulaanbaatar buy there daily provisions.

Takhis or Przewalski’s Horses

Przewalski was a Russian explorer of Central Asia. In 1878, he visited Mongolia. During his visit, he found bones and skin from a strange horse. After his return, he had his find investigated in St. Petersburg, where it was ascertained that the items must originate from a wild, primordial horse. In 1881, this breed was officially given the name Przewalski’s Horse.

The last example of the animal living freely in Mongolia was observed back in 1969. In 1992, following breeding programmes run by various European zoos, the horses were released back into the wild in Mongolia. One of the game reserves where they can be seen today is the Khustain Nuruu National Park close to Ulaanbaatar.

The takhis or Przewalski horses can be seen not far from Ulaanbaatar in the Khustain Nuruu National Park.

Baigaljav – The Horse Head Fiddle Maker

The master craftsman welcomes us with open arms. In front of us, stands one of the best and most well-known horse head fiddle makers in Mongolia. I look down the narrow passage to his workshop. Baigaljav invites us to follow him as he first takes us into his office. There, we are safe from the noises of the work going on; hammering, drilling, polishing and the whine of an electric saw. Baigaljav grew up in Odmaa’s hometown. He speaks like Odmaa without any appreciable dialect, as all the residents from the South Gobi. As we start to talk, he tells us very kindly that we can take us much time as we want.

He says that it was an unusual experience he had as a child that lead him to his calling. It was predestined for him, which is why he can talk of a calling or a vocation. I can just imagine him as a small child, listening to a musician as he played a Morin Khuur. In the vastness and the loneliness of the desert, the sounds of the instrument must have seemed to him to have been a gift sent from heaven.

Baigaljav trained as an instrument maker in a company run by the socialist state, the only organisation in Mongolia where horse head fiddles were made. In 1989, after the peaceful revolution, he had the chance to set up his own company, Egshiglen Magnai - Musical Instrumental Co. Ltd. It took him two years to make all the preparations but then the founding of the company proceeded as planned, with the active support of his wife. To start with, they made instruments to order for one dealer. Nine years down the line, business is going very well, well enough indeed to open his own shop in Ulaanbaatar. He is now 52 and has a staff of 40 employees.

Our conversation is punctuated by telephone calls and questions from his workers. Baigaljav wants to remain true to the philosophy of his company and to involve himself in resolving all problems. He checks the quality of the wood used for making the fiddles himself. He travels to the richly forested areas in the north of the country to make the selection in person. The wood is then stored in his yard for three years before it is used. He even sources the tree resin that is needed to play the fiddles from there. The strings of the instrument are lightly coated with the resin in order to give a fuller tone as a result of the increased friction when the bow is drawn across them.

In 2002, the President of Mongolia passed a resolution stating that each Mongolian family must own a horse head fiddle. Baigaljav now had to develop uniform specifications for the manufacturing of the horse head fiddles. When doing this, he focussed on the musical training rather than on trying to devise manufacturing shortcuts or on mass production. The richness of the craftsmanship, culture and music should be communicated and instilled into the consciousness of the people, through building and learning to play the Morin Khuur. A country of such diverse extremes like Mongolia, needs values that bring people and society together, today and into the future. The proof that his ideas are realistic and can be put into practice successfully is shown in the example of the street children of Ulaanbaatar, who are given the opportunity to learn the Morin Khuur as part of a state-funded project.

Baigaljav’s wife serves us with milk tea. We don’t begrudge Baigaljav the opportunity to have a welcome break in his story-telling. Our conversation still has some way to go. He leans back in his leather armchair and drinks his tea in small sips. Then he produces an ancient instrument from his collection, probably the oldest example of its type.

In the early days, the sounding chamber was made of stretched goat leather or leather from young camels. However in the 1960s, following the advice of a Russian musicologist, this technique was changed in favour of using wood to cover the sound box. Using animal skin as the covering had qualitative disadvantages that could impact on the resulting music. For the same reason, polyester is now used to make the strings, rather than horse hair. Already in the past, there were fiddles that lacked the main characteristic, the carved horse’s head. Today, with the exception of a few minor differences, the instruments are all the same size. In the east of Mongolia, they played on very large instruments and the musicians from this region were and still are considered to be the best in the country. In the west, a smaller version of the instrument was widely in use, that was more reminiscent of a basting ladle.

The Morin Khuur has its roots in a stringed instrument that dates from the era of the Hun and which is known today as the Tovshuur. It is an instrument that is plucked rather than bowed and is shaped like a ladle. The embellishment of the neck of the instrument doesn’t represent a horses head but that of a swan, a crocodile, a dragon or a lion. In the legend of the Morin Khuur, Khukhuu Namjil was the first to carve a horse’s head. According to Mongolians, the shape of the current fiddle dates from that time. Chinggis Khaan opened ceremonies and celebratory events with a recital by musicians playing Morin Khuurs. It is no different today, on official occasions like state receptions.

Enough of the theory says Odmaa suddenly. Baigaljav’s wife agrees with her. I close my notebook and pick up my camera. We go out into the passage. A slim man is standing in front of the door and Baigaljav shakes him warmly by the hand. He is the very well-known Burjate, Battuvshin, a famous musician from Ulan-Ude who is collecting his new instrument today. He tells us that the best horse head fiddles in the world are built in this workshop.

The Morin Khuur consists of a sounding chamber, the handle or neck and the bow. It is made of birch wood. Wood from the pine, fir or spruce is used for the top of the sounding chamber. The top of the neck consists of the horse head and the tuning pegs. There are two bridges between the strings and the sounding chamber. The strings are made of 365 stretched hairs, symbolising the number of days in the year, whereby one string is thicker than the other. Traditionally, the thinner of the two strings is made from the tail hairs of a mare while the thicker one is made from the tail hairs of a stallion. The number of hairs used can however vary and depends on the strength and the temperament of the player, namely how much pressure is applied to the strings when playing. The Mongols say that the two strings embody the Yin and Yang of the Asian world.

The bow used to play the Morin Khuur is either made of willow or birch. It weighs between 86 and 95 grams and is also strung with horsehair. Depending on the player, between 120 and 250 horse tail hairs or polyester filaments are used.

In the case of fiddles that are played in an orchestra, there is a standard for the construction of the Morin Khuur in order to achieve a uniform sound picture. The lower, large bridge should be 38 mm high and 73 mm wide, while the upper , smaller bridge is 22 m high and 30 mm wide. The neck is 770 mm long. The size of the area of the strings that should be used to create the sounds is defined as being 440 mm. The tuning pegs are 150 mm long. The upper part of the sounding chamber is 200 mm wide; the lower part 280 mm. The chamber is 320 mm high and 100 mm deep.

The master craftsman laughs about the number game. No construction - no music! But we are truly impressed. We sit down again in the comfortable leather armchairs. I look a little worriedly out of the window. The journey back into town is going to test our patience as we have to take three different buses. Odmaa taps her watch. I know. We will have to leave soon.

But I still have a question for Baigaljav . What was the childhood experience that lead him to follow his chosen career path? He looks at me surprised.

He grew up as part of a nomadic family in the South Gobi. One day, while the young Baigaljav was wandering in the desert, he came across an object that he didn’t recognise. His curiosity was aroused. He hid it amongst his small stash of possessions. At home he told his family the story of his find. His mother wanted to know more and went with him to see what her son had found. As she had suspected from what the boy had said, it was a horse head fiddle. The child was allowed to keep his treasure but his mother had to carry out some running repairs. He started to play the fiddle and over time, his virtuoso musical skills developed. Unfortunately however, the instrument was destroyed by some careless act by his brother and Baigaljav has still not really come to terms with the loss. His immense love of music pushed the ten year old to make his own fiddle. This was the first instrument made by the boy who would become the famous craftsman. And he still has it to this day.

Traditional and modern instruments

Stages in the construction of the Morin Khuur.

The master craftsman in his workshop.

In front of his workshop, in the town’s jurte settlement.

The legend: “Khukhuu Namjil“

Many years ago, a young man named Khukhuu Namjil lived in the east of the country. He was known far and wide as an excellent singer. One day, a long way from home, he was letting his horse graze on the banks of a river when a young, enchanting girl rode out of the waters towards him. She spoke to him and persuaded him to ride with her to her parents. He stayed there for several days and entertained the family with his singing. It didn’t take long until it the decision was made that the young couple should marry.

Even though the young man was happy in his new family, after a while he was drawn back to his own family, particularly to his truelove who he had left behind there. Between them, they agreed that he should split his time between the two families and the girl allowed Khukhuu Namjil to leave, giving him a fawn-coloured horse for the journey. With this horse, he would be able to ride each day to be with his wife and family but then at night, he could return to his original family and truelove. He must however ensure that the horse should be allowed to stop at a reasonable distance before the man reached his own jurte so that it would have a chance to recover its breath.

He headed off on his fawn-coloured horse. For three years, he spent his days with his wife and family but at night, he returned to his far-away truelove. Then one day, when he forgot to give his horse time to rest before getting home, his wife became suspicious and taking a pair of scissors, she killed the horse by stabbing it.

For three long months, despairing at not being able to get back to his truelove, Khukhuu Namjil ate nothing. Finally, he carved a likeness of the head of his dead horse from one of its bones and made himself a fiddle that he strung using horse hairs. From that day on, he accompanied himself on that fiddle as he sung his sad and mournful songs.

Tsagaan Sar

Tomorrow is Tsagaan Sar, the Mongolian New Year Festival. Throughout the whole day, I have the sense of the pre-Christmas atmosphere that we have back in Germany. People scurry about the squares and streets with bulging shopping bags as if they are afraid that soon there will be nothing left on the shelves. I am pushed here and there in the crowd. I am waiting at the bus stop in Sukhbaatar Square. I wait a while for the bus to turn up and then I decide on a different option. I call Saulegul who in the same way as I am, is also on his own at holiday times. The Kazakhstanis, who like Saule are of the Moslem faith, do not celebrate this Buddhist festival. We arrange to meet that evening in a pub.

The Mongolian New Year is a moveable feast that takes place on different dates from the end of January to the end of February. The lamas from the largest monastery in Ulaanbaatar, Gandan, determine the exact date of the festival each year. They calculate it based on the first phase of the new moon and the Asian calendar.

Back in the year 1206, Chinggis Khaan decreed that the start of spring should be celebrated each year as this is the time when the animals give birth to their young. This start of the new cycle of life should be marked by the people through celebrations. The name White New Year Festival is derived from the colour of milk. In the 17th century, Zanabazar, as the first Bogd Khaan and in his capacity as the head of the lamas, absorbed the previously secular festival into Buddhism, which had recently been introduced. Also the tradition of including a further fifteen days goes back to him, as this is the period during which Buddha was reborn.

Starting from the day before the holy festival and going on into the first morning, ceremonies are held in the monasteries and homage is paid to the two deities Bandanlkham and Lkham. During this night, Lkham is said to travel through three thousand worlds and is believed to visit every Mongolian family. For that reason, Tsagaan Sar is also a family festival where, according to the ancient practice, family members meet on the evening before and pray for divine support during the year ahead.

The traditional meal to accompany the festival consists of three, five, seven or nine layers of Kheviin Boov, a light, sweet pastry, shaped into a pyramid and served with buuz, Mongolian dumplings filled with meat. There is also uuts, steamed mutton or uvchuu, steamed beef. Various salads accompany this. Airag, fermented milk, tsagaan arkhi, milk schnapps and suutei tsai, milk tea, are served as drinks. Aaruul, a type of cheese eaten throughout Central Asia and sugar are placed on the frame around the door to the jurte on the eve of the festival. In the towns, this tradition is replaced by placing gifts on the door step or if available, on a balcony rail. This gift is seen symbolically as food for Lkham’s mule.

That evening, there are not many other passengers on the bus, which is a new experience for me. Normally, all the municipal buses are full to overflowing at all times of the day. Most of the locals live in tower blocks and tenements outside the centre of town or in the jurte settlements. By now, they will be there, complete with their purchases. This evening, the celebrations are keeping the people indoors. There is no traffic driving into the city. The streets of the great metropolis are empty of people and I feel like I am being driven through a ghost town. Will any pub or bar be open this evening?

Saule’s directions are good. I spot the bar from a distance, nestling between the modern-style houses. I sit at one of the attractively decorated tables, order a Chinggis beer and wait. Saule arrives, unusually punctual and for a while, we are the only customers. Slowly, the bar, which is one of the most popular in town, starts to fill up. However, there are no Mongolians to be seen. It just appears to be Americans and Europeans, business people who for the most part are working here.

Later on, a Mongolian father and his small son enter the bar. They sit at the table next to us and order two meals. The father looks sadly at the little boy who silently flicks through a small book. On this, a family holiday, they prefer the companionship of a bar to the loneliness of their two room flat.

The man at the next table turns to us and starts to tell us some memorable stories about the history of the traditions of Tsagaan Sar. The story about the little box is the most fantastical. His son had placed the lucky coins that were hidden in the buuz and which he had bitten on while eating, into his secret stash, a small wooden box. Once, he had rashly boasted about it and revelled in the pure happiness of it. When his collection of old coins disappeared without trace, the Mongolian New Year tradition that recommends maintaining total secrecy about voicing such things, was confirmed.

We stay late into the night. None of us wants to go back to where we live. Two months earlier, I had rented a flat. But I don’t really feel at home there. It is more of an office where I organise my trips from. Outside, we wave at one of the few cars that is driving slowly along the avenue. The driver stops immediately and we agree a price of 500 tugrik per kilometre to drive us home. Most car drivers have nothing against such moonlighting and supplement their income by offering occasional taxi services.

The next day sees the start of the three main Tsagaan Sar holidays when family visits take place, to wish each other Happy New Year. The order of events is to visit close family members first and then to call on friends. Battulga has engineered a surprise visit with his elderly mother for me. I am invited to celebrate with them, until the end of the festival period. That is a truly wonderful gesture of friendship.

The milk tea has already been prepared and there is enough for everyone. We are in the mother’s flat so honour is bestowed upon her by the whole family. Before drinking, some tea is offered up and cast to the four corners of the skies. I extend my forearms to the mother by way of a greeting. In order to offer symbolic support to her as the oldest member of the family, they are placed under her arms that are also extended. It is then also well received if a gift of money is offered, to add weight to the esteem and regard being shown.

After the ceremony, the family members greet each other, with the exception of the married couples who, according to Mongolian beliefs, form one unit and cannot be separated one from the other. No water should be fetched and no manual work should be done. It is also not allowed to take any rubbish outside. Anybody who disobeys this will have an unhappy year, according to Battulga’s mother. This also applies to anyone who stays with strangers, who argues, who sleeps in the afternoon or who cries.

Some superstitious Mongolians would have advised me against staying overnight under these conditions. But the honest hospitality displayed by Battulga’s family is sincere, so I stay. The simple joy of their anticipation is heart-warming and will surely make it difficult for any evil spirits in the future.

Airag, fermented horse’s milk, is a very popular drink at Tsagaan Sar.

Celebrating Tsagaan Sar at home with Battulga.

Tsagaan Sar, with the edible symbols of the festival – the idee and the fatty saddle of mutton.

On the morning of the first day of the New Year, there is a fixed ritual, where people walk around the ovoo and then they pay homage to the sunrise.

Horse racing takes place throughout the country at Tsagaan Sar, sometimes at temperatures below –40 °C.