Sleep with the Reindeers

(Reindeers. Photo by Haydock.)

Since we came to Hovsgol, I have felt like I crossed into another world, a world of grass, horses, yaks, and gers, and today we did it again, crossed over the mountains into another world.

This morning we woke up in a ger or yurt, toasty in our sleeping bags with a crackling fire in the stove in the center of the ger. After a quick breakfast of bread and Mongolian cheese, we packed up for the ride to visit the Tsaatan, a reindeer herding tribe in the northern mountains. Yesterday we stopped at the last town in the valley and went to an army base there to get permits, because we will be less than 30 kilometers from the Russian border. There has been trouble with illegal border crossings, so you have to register before going that close.

At last around lunch time we got our horses for the mountain crossing. Technically they would be called ponies at home, because they’re so short and stocky, but the Mongolians consider these tough mountain horses to be equal to the longer legged horses of the grasslands or “steppe.”  Our guide told us they’re more reliable, less likely to shy at surprises along the trail, and a lot more sure-footed than the steppe horses, too.

Our horses were collected from several families’ herds near our ger. Kids brought them and tethered them to a couple of hitching poles, where they stood, six saddled for the riders, two for the handlers, and two packhorses to carry our belongings and food. Our guide Tulga told us to “think like a nomad,” so we pared down our duffels to the bare necessities — no extra shirts, one pair of pants, only a pair of sandals for extra shoes, etc. 

When we got on our horses, we asked what were their names. The guys laughed at our question and said, “They don’t have names.” They are fat-bellied, clean, and healthy, but it didn’t take long for us to understand that they are not pets or friends, as people tend to think of horses at home. They’re work animals, and they’re valued for their ability to get the job done. This doesn’t mean people don’t appreciate a beautiful horse or a fast or smart one. We’ve noticed that people have often left horse skulls at ovoos. They do that if they had a good horse who died, and they’re praying to get another good horse.

With all the rain that has fallen, the mountainside was boggy. The horses sank nearly to their knees in mud, and in other places had to pick their way over logs and through sharp rocks and boulders. Yes, they really were amazingly sure-footed. 

After about 3 hours plus a break for lunch we saw a teepee through the trees with gray boulders scattered around nearby. But, as we came closer, we saw them, not boulders but reindeers lying among the trees. That was only a hint of what was to come. Another hour picking our way down a steep forested slope, and we found a narrow grassy valley dotted by white teepees, with reindeer walking, grazing, running, and carrying riders here and there. Some of the male deer had spectacular racks of antlers covered with dark brown fuzz. Best of all were the babies, which were tied in small groups, watching us with huge dark eyes.

We had finally arrived at the spring camp of the Tsaatan, reindeer people, of the eastern Taiga. They’re really Tuvans, and most of the Tuvan people live across the border in Russia. They speak Tuvan among themselves, and Mongolian with outsiders. This camp has 22 families and about 250 people.  And I don’t know how many reindeer, plus a few horses. If you want to learn more about Tuvans, there’s a great documentary movie, Genghis Blues, about an American bluesman who won a throat-singing contest in Tuva. If you wonder what throat singing is, see the movie!

The reindeer are lovely, gentle animals. Kids ride them around the camp.  Wherever we are, we can hear them gently snorting. Two days after we leave the camp, the whole village will move over the next mountain pass to their summer camp, even farther away from the valley with its villages. They have to keep the reindeer at a high elevation where it’s cool, and where there won’t be too many flies. People tell us reindeer can’t stand flies. There were a lot of biting gnats along our ride in, so I can sympathize…

The first thing that happened on our arrival is that Gambat, the village shaman, brought a bunch of poles and they put together a big teepee for the three of us. It was wrapped with white canvas but in the old days they would have used bark and sometimes wild animal hides.  The teepee went up so fast, with pure nomad efficiency. It has a stove in the middle, so it’s nice and warm, and they brought a pile of firewood so we can keep the fire going through the night.

Good night from the Tsaatan village in the northern mountains!