Naadam Festival
Gobi
Desert, Mongolia
We
move outside to the horse races. We
watch the end of the race of the 1 year old mares. They run for 18 miles. The jockeys are all 8 and 9 years old boys. And the horses were so young that they were
still nursing from their mothers. About 30 horses run this gruel race.
Independence
Day for Mongolia
Tuesday,
July 11, 2006
The
morning is beautiful as we load our vehicle and prepare to an hour drive
through this massive, empty land space.
The horizon expands for miles and miles.
Our driver takes off and turns right, puts the van in high gear and
races thorough the Gobi Desert. Every
once in a while he makes a turn and I marvel at his ability to navigate without
a compass or a GPS. Somehow he gets us
to a town in the middle of nowhere.
We are
headed to the Naadam Festival, the yearly national sports festival that
highlights archery, horseback riding and wrestling. This festival dates back to
centuries before, steeped in old traditions.
Everyone is dressed in
ceremonial garb. There is a sense of pride that is stronger than I could have
imagined.
As
with all festivals there are street vendors at the stadium. Popsicles are a big sell. But so is the dreadful fermented mare’s milk
stand. It’s hard to believe that these
people who have such little money would spend any money on fermented mare’s
milk. This is all they drink in their
homes. No one is buying the cokes.
We
wandered over to the wrestlers’ tent.
There are some big, beefy guys in that tent. They wear large, gray robes. And then they take them off, they strip down
to little panties and a shoulder cape.
The
festival has lots of ceremony to it.
Before the match started, the wrestlers come out with their coaches. There are prayers. The wrestlers do a little dance and thank
their coaches. Then the two teams chant offensive challenges to one another.
The
competitors square off with one another.
The winner is the first one to bring the other to his knees. Some of the matches only take a few seconds.
The match
that interest me the most is the one where the two heavy weights work more on
defeating their opponents through psychological methods and skills rather than
using brute force. They stand inside the defined boundaries and circle around
each other, offering glares of dominance and control. A few jabs are taken but
it is the cape straps that are most used to bring an opponent down.
Once
there is a winner, he goes to the ceremonial flag pole and kisses it. There he dances a victory dance. Then he goes to the prize table and picks up
his prize: an electric tea kettle.
We
move outside to the horse races. We
watch the end of the race of the 1 year old mares. They run for 18 miles. The jockeys are all 8 and 9 years old boys. And the horses were so young that they were
still nursing from their mothers. About 30 horses run this gruel race.
When
it’s over, the top five winners and the horse that came in last are all honored.
The
winners are escorted to the finish line by their fathers. Everyone shares a cup
of fermented mare’s milk. The milk is
also poured on the top of the losing horse’ head for good luck. Big, flamboyant medals are given out. Prayer flags were draped around the horses’
necks. The kids were given popsicles.
The tobacco jars were passed around amongst the men. And everyone is jovial.
Then
prizes are distributed. The horse races carry much more weight that the
wrestlers. These winners got CD players,
a 21” TV, a rug and a back pack. We
watch the happy winners ride off into the horizon, struggling to manage all of
their winnings.
We
headed back to the stadium to see what was going on there. The stadium is far
more crowded now. It was obvious that a
bit more drinking had been going on since we left. Some of the men were
obviously very drunk.
We watch
a horse race which requires the horses to prance rather than running. If the horse starts to run, it is
disqualified. These horses look comical
compared to the races we have watched so far.
This race did not seem to capture much attention as the audience is sparse.
The young winners from the previous horse race now enter to the stadium. And their entrance disrupts the race in
progress. The race is momentary stopped and there is another, more official
ceremony for these young jockeys. And
family photos were taken by everyone.
This
festival goes on for a week and it captures the hearts of all of Mongolia as
these nomads stop everything, stay put and cheer on family members and strangers
alike.
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