Still, you had more responsibilities in the Yurt. This was the Mongolian world, and that was the life of the Nomads. No matter what your title was, deep inside, you were still a Nomad. The prairies, hills, rivers, rain, snow, and the wind in the horse’s hair — thousands of romantic nights under the huge Mongolian sky. What do you dream of under the enormous Mongolian sky? Is it the riches, the exotic places, the beautiful maidens, the heroic acts? Yes, and freedom. After all, you have everything you need in the steppes, but you could use a few more horses and maybe a camel or two. You could use a few more wives and more children. You could use a lot of beautiful things, but you had everything you needed already.
You were free as a wild horse running in the horde through the steppes. No one could tell you what to do, and you had your honor. You were you, and only that counted and then, your family and friends. No one could take that away from you. What is a better life for a free-spirited Nomad? In times, it was not so good for them, but then, it was yours and so familiar. Some would find it exacting and difficult, but the Mongols called it home. That was the best home they ever wanted. It was their home. They had it for thousands of years and thought the place was beautiful. And, it was to them. They did not know any better, and they did not want to know any better. What for? So, that was it. Still, many did not like it and, if they did not like it well enough, they did not stay there for too long. That was a part of freedom. Thus, go anywhere you want and do whatever you want. Just be a good Mongol.
During the Soviet domination, cities, towns, factories, and the apartment buildings were built, and the industrial jobs presented a more profitable, less demanding, and a better alternative. The mostly Nomad population of the Mongols (Khalkha — 94.9%), Turkic (mostly Kazakh — 5%), and the others (including Chinese and the Russians — 0.1%) liked it somewhat but was confused. Still, education was readily available in the Soviet-type Universities and the specialized schools. The Communist Party promised more material commodities than the Khans of the past ever dared to think off. The Khans were not that sophisticated back then, and the modern life offered much more. All the Mongols had to do in exchange was to work hard and wait for Socialism and later, the Communism to arrive. Well, neither of them did. The Khans promised less but often delivered it, and the Soviets promised a lot, but no one ever saw it. For some people, life became more comfortable, and for some, it remained the same. But, most were below the poverty line. And, the poverty line was too low, to begin with. That was set on the level of not to starve to death. One could not go any low than that. The everyday survival of these people was a major miracle by itself, and they thanked Buddha more and more often.
Buddha could understand. But, Buddha was not a member of the Communist Party and not very much loved by the leaders. Thus, religion had to be hidden from the jealous eyes of the informants, and that was almost half of the country. But, Buddha saw it all yet, he carried very little weight in the Soviet infrastructure. And, deep inside, even the prosperous citizens of the cities, members of the party, and the informants equally yearned for the open space of the Mongolian steppes and the simple Yurts of Nomads. They missed the small, but so powerful horses (Aduu in Mongolian) of the warriors and the slightly fermented not so deliciously smelling milk (Kumis) of the horses and the camels. This milk was considered more nutritious than the cow’s or the goat’s milk. And, that was the milk of choice for generation after generation, for thousands of years, of the Mongols and the other Nomad tribes of the region sharing the steppes with them.
The newcomers and just the brief visitors of this thrilling nation had to start by taking a stroll down any residential street in the Mongolian towns. And then, to go through the first introduction to the savory odors of the habitual meals of this exotic cuisine. Meat — whatever you have; spices — maybe; taste — for sure; smell — somewhat pungent. It would not remind you of the French or the Italian cousin and would not make you salivate too much. That’s on the good side. Over salivating is not too attractive. These striking smells were often too strong and too potent for some of the travelers from the somewhat gentler environment, but you must hold on and give it a chance. Was not it why you were there, to experience it all? You did not go there just for the cuisine, and it may pay back one day. You may know the difference by then and like more where you came from. If you are invited into somebody’s Ger (traditional round tent dwelling) or an apartment, you will probably have an opportunity of tasting buuz, khuushuur and the bansh — the most popular dishes of that corner of the world. These Mongolian national feasts are made with plenty of minced meat heavily seasoned with garlic or/and onion (this meat can be anything from the mutton to beef to a camel to horse to gazelle or a combination of it all). Roofed with flour, it could be steamed in boiling water, fried in oil or just boiled in water. Some veggies and rice could be served as the side dish, but that is not a must. Meat is the real foundation of the Mongolian meal. Meat is the main staple of the Mongolian existence for as long as the Mongols were around. A drink of fermented milk of any of these animals would always accompany this cooking delight. Thus, it is never Kosher or Halal, and that’s the warning for the religious visitors of the country. You do not go there for that, but you may find it somewhere there if you look harder. Thus, be smarter and bring your own or ask for a different dish. For many visitors to the country, the vast quantities of meat consumed there can, at first, be surprising and often hard to swallow. But, it is not long before a visitor finds their favorite Mongolian food, be it buuz, khuushuur or a few other treats not hidden still, not discovered on the beginning. Even the hardened vegetarians and the vegans would find something fitting their taste and convictions. Unfortunately, there is not going to be much of a variety, and it is limited mostly to rice dishes. Well, the rice is plenty and is cooked in a few different ways. The country and the people are full of surprises, and that is pleasant and even more surprising. Most of the food in Mongolia was designed for people to sit around the fire with the family and friends and eat together as a community. It is communal food, and you eat it from the same cooking dish or a pot, often with your fingers. That was a tribal society all the way, no matter where and how you turn. That’s how things worked in Mongolia for thousands of years, and no one was about to change it. Why would you? What’s the point? That was the people’s way, and people liked it. Just sit around the fire, eat a hot meal of meat and drink some kumis, and talk. Speak of your problems and listen to theirs. Soon, your problems would melt away, giving the room to the dreamy existence of the steppes. After all, life was not that bad. Just a little turmoil here and there. That’s all. Whatever problems they may have, they could deal with it, and people always understood and helped. Was that a tribal thing? It could very well be. Join the tribe and find out.