Experiencing Naadam Festival in Khatgal
And so we arrive at Lake Khosvgol, this incredible huge fresh water lake. Apparently it contains up to 2% of the worlds fresh water and is the second largest lake in Asia, the largest I assume is Lake Baikal which legend has it is joined underground to our Lake Khosvgol.
Khatgal, at the tip of the Lake is our venue for Nadaam, the annual national festival which involves the three "manly" sports. Well girls are allowed to participate in two out of three, archery and horse racing, but wrestling still remains the domain of the men. The clothing for wrestling is unusual to say the least. A skimpy bolero type jacket which is open at the front tied with a string across an ample chest, open supposedly because in days gone by when the jackets were closed in front a woman (or two) competed and won. So now it is boobs on display just to be sure. So that is the top half, the bottom is a pair of speedo type trunks in matching colours and to finish this off a very fancy pair of leather boots. It could be almost porno but somehow it isn't, I guess because you check out the faces and realise you would not dare suggest such a thing to these large strong men. There are no weight restrictions, anyone can challenge anyone else. There will be three or four bouts going on at the same time with volunteers holding the pointed hats of the wrestlers and occasionally giving them a big whack on the bum if they are doing no more than hanging on. The winner breaks into a wonderful dance round the spirit flags looking rather like a bird getting ready to take off.
For me the exciting thing is the horse racing. The races are run over anything up to 30kms, the jockeys are the youngest of boys and girls as the lighter the rider the better. Some jockeys are as young as 7 and no, they don't wear helmets and often have no more than a small horse blanket tied on the horse with string as a saddle. To our western eyes the horses look skinny and ill fed but if they can go full tilt for 30 kms then they must be OK. There are about five races over the two days, for one year olds, two year olds and so forth up to five year olds which is the most important race and all the spectators want to be as close to that winning horse as possible, it is deemed good luck for the dust (there is plenty) to get all over you and then when the horse is being walked slowly to cool down everyone rushes over to get some sweat from it and rubs it on their hair. Yes I did!
The Nadaam festival is a sort of Mongolian version of a country fair. The dignitaries sit chattering in a tent proudly wearing all their medals, small kids roam wild, young boys and girls try their hand at popping the balloons with darts to win a bar of chocolate. Almost everyone has a horse attached to them, sometimes just with a tether draped over their arm, a bit like a handbag, sometimes they are lolling on horseback while watching the wrestling, sometimes they are trotting through the crowds and trying to control the rather spirited horses, toddlers under foot, grannies wandering around looking for grandpa, everyone in their very smartest deels and matching hats. In the brightest of colours, neon pink, bright turquoise, bright pale blue, a feast for the eyes. Couples in matching outfits. Fancy saddles on the horses. Behind the four wheel drives are horses tethered to trees with families picnicking around their hooves. Someone falls off a horse and the Mongolian method of treatment is to sit the unconscious rider up and give them a good shake! No stabilising the spine and neck here! But it seems to work! Well there is no hospital and no ambulance so it has to!
Our lodging for these two nights is at an Eco lodge on the far banks of the Lake. It is our favourite so far. The peace and beauty of this place cannot be bettered. We are amongst the pine trees, wild flowers abound, the waves lapping at the shore and bleached driftwood forming sculptures on the beach, a yak or two in the garden along with the requisite horses and oh yes a full moon rising over the trees. Total magic. We have a bonfire that night around which we all sing silly songs although the Mongolians sing wonderfully tuneful folk songs which put our Hokey Kokey to shame.
A brilliant last night.