Social Justice
Tearfund agricultural initiatives are providing much-needed new sources of food and income for Mongolians.
In Övörkhangai, Mongolia
T he temperature plummets as our four-wheel-drive snakes its way along a dirt track through Gobi desert in the province of Övörkhangai, Mongolia. The landscape is an arid dusty brown; there are no trees, just tussock grass furring the dunes. Above us the sky turns pallid then hailstones the size of golf balls begin pelting down around us. Our driver Ochiroo slows the vehicle to a crawl, crunching over the newly iced track. We arrive at our destination – a Tearfund agricultural site known as Mazar – to find a mess of shredded plants. Almost half the crop has just been destroyed.
“This is not uncommon in Mongolia,” our host Turkhuu tells us. “Winter here lasts for nine months of the year, and we have such a short time to plant vegetables.” Many things conspire against growing food in the Gobi – the weather, scarcity of water, armies of mice. And the traditional nomadic lifestyle of herders defies the concept of laying down roots. The appetite for meat is centuries old.
Mazar is one of eight agricultural sites that Tearfund has set up in Mongolia since 2011. All but one of the sites are in Ovorkhangai. The sites are situated near springs or wells and each is farmed by up to 50 local families and overseen by NGO (non-governmental organisation) FARM Mongolia (Family Agricultural Resources Mongolia), of which Turkhuu is the director. Many Kiwis have flown across the Pacific to work on the sites.
Altaa, FARM Mongolia’s accountant, shares with us that her mother died in her 40s. Ochiroo, also part of the FARM Mongolia team, says his father died in his 60s. In a country where the average life expectancy is 68 years, incorporating fresh vegetables into the diet would help improve health outcomes.
Turkhuu tells us about the importance of farming, of diversifying sources of income and building resilience in communities. In rural areas, one third of the population lives below the poverty line.
Throw in a dzud – a severe winter that can wipe out entire herds of livestock – and communities face starvation. “We teach them how to grow the vegetables then we teach them how to pickle and preserve produce for winter. If their herds die during a dzud, they will still have something to eat and perhaps something to sell.”
"Tearfund has built walled-earth greenhouses and it is heartening to see community members at Taragt picking and eating fresh produce."
Mongolia covers 1.5 million square kilometres and its population of three million is concentrated in the cities. Ancient mountain ranges are juxtaposed against marshes and salt-water lakes. Permanent glaciers, alpine meadows and expansive steppes share the same blue sky. It is one of the most awe-inspiringly beautiful places you'll find on earth.
The country has seen waves of invasion and colonisation by China, Russia and others over the centuries. More recently, the ‘invasions’ have been by foreign mining companies hungry for minerals, which has led to prosperity for a lucky few.
In the blood
Being a herder and owning animals is still ingrained in the national psyche. Even in Mongolia’s capital and largest city Ulaanbaatar, which has a population of 1.3 million people, there is a yearning for the countryside, for the ‘real’ Mongolia. Here women are garbed in Gucci, Cyrillic script is everywhere and English is often spoken with a heavy Russian accent. Streets are spotlessly clean yet stray dogs wander. Houses with cheerful roofs line the horizon, with Soviet-era grey vans parked in front. Buses carry handsome people with high cheekbones, ruddy skin and piercing eyes. Although the central streets are filled with expensive shops, the city changes as you drive towards the fringes. Solid buildings give way to ghettos.
Women are on an almost equal footing with men, perhaps due to the legacy of Genghis Khan. He is remembered as a great leader who introduced currency and the concept of diplomatic immunity for foreign envoys, and who used female archers in his armies. The Mongolians we met were polite and reserved to begin with, then later, out came their mischievousness.
Övörkhangai province bears a striking resemblance to central Otago. Gers, like colourful felt mushrooms, are dotted every 10km or so and they’re surrounded by herds of sheep, goats, camels and horses. Sometimes we see a nomadic herder wearing a traditional silk del, speaking into his smartphone, standing next to his solar panel.
We visit a second Tearfund agricultural site, Taragt, which is run by site leader Chogdon Luvsandamba, a widow with six children. She says: “I like to eat meat. But it has been good to learn how to grow vegetables. It is good for everyone to work together and make money.” The Taragt site covers 10 hectares and boasts a variety of produce – potatoes, rutabagas, beets, squash, spring onions, oats, wheat, cabbages and artichokes.
With the help of Kiwi horticulturist Marlon Stufkens, Tearfund has built walled-earth greenhouses in several of the sites and it is heartening to see community members at Taragt picking and eating fresh produce in the form of cucumbers and fat tomatoes. Produce is farmed as organically as possible.
Colourful culture
We visit the ger of a local politician whose family still herds animals. As the sun sets and a full moon begins to rise we ride Mongolian horses, using wooden saddles. It’s incredible to imagine that Genghis’ army went into battle on these uncomfortable seats. We watch a camel being milked, being careful to stay out of spitting distance. Dinner is a lavish khorkog – goat meat, including offal, cooked in a tin pot over heated stones. Delicious, but rich. The hot stones are passed around before the meal to warm us up and improve our health. The khorkog is washed down with bowls of fermented mares milk (airag). We are plied with vodka, a spirit that has become a part of the culture since the days of Russian occupation. Snacks are usually made from goat or camel milk fermented into yoghurt, or soft cream, feta-like cheese, hard sweetened milk products known as airul.
We stay one night in a thermal resort, filled with locals who come from far afield. That night there is a festival in the local hall. People materialise out of the darkness after perhaps having walked for miles to get there. We take part in a dance competition, to the amusement of the locals.
The next day, we stumble upon a ‘naadam’, or traditional sports festival, in the countryside. First up are wrestlers, wearing boots and loin cloths. Next come horsemen astride their Mongolian horses, showing off their lassoing skills.
As we head back to the capital, the dirt roads stretch out in front of us. The drive will take 10 hours and the sense of space, freedom and ancient history is exhilarating. We hope the Tearfund agricultural sites will endure so that Mongolia's rural communities will long continue to reap the rewards.