All language subtitles for Living with Nomads 3of3 Mongolia

I've always been fascinated
by nomads...

..constantly on the move...

It's the most beautiful journey.

..surviving in some of the world's
most remote wildernesses...

Where's the removal van
when you need it?

..and living cheek by jowl
with nature.

It's always seemed
a wildly romantic existence.

It's the most magical place.

But it's no easy life...

It's the sort of cold
that makes you feel physically sick.

..and in today's modern world...

..they're under increasing pressure.

I'm going to live with
three groups of nomads...

..in Siberia...

It's an incredibly
exhilarating feeling!

..Nepal...

Namaste.

..and now in Mongolia...

Sain baina uu.

..with a family of herders,
who are adapting to the 21st century

deep in the Gobi desert.

Clearly, this is a way of life
that is very, very precious.

But life here is still dominated
by the power of nature...

..as storms and predators constantly
threaten their nomadic way of life.

I can't stand here and say,
"Don't kill that wolf."

It's not my place to.

Mongolia's wild and untamed Gobi
is the largest desert in Asia.

It just looks like the sort
of bleakest, emptiest landscape.

And the idea of living here
and of making a living here

is, erm, hard to imagine.

Yet, it's been home to families
of nomads for centuries.

I'm on my way
to stay with one of them.

It's just going to be
really eye-opening, I think,

to discover this partnership

between them and their livestock
and this landscape

that has allowed them to thrive
for this long.

But Mongolia's nomads
have had a chequered history.

In 1924, the country
fell under communist rule.

For nearly 70 years,
nomadism was banned

and the herds were collectivised.

But with the arrival of democracy
in the 1990s,

an incredible one third
of Mongolia's population

chose to return
to their nomadic roots.

Today, it's believed that 30%
of Mongolians are nomads.

But once again, their way of life
is under threat.

The country is going through
an economic boom fuelled by mining,

which is tempting nomads towards

a more prosperous and settled
way of life.

There is something very romantic
about the idea of nomadism.

Often, it isn't romantic,
when you see the reality of it.

Often,
it is an incredibly hard life.

It's a 600km journey from
Ulaanbaatar, Mongolia's capital,

to the southern half
of the vast Gobi desert

and deep into
the Three Beauties mountain range.

I want to know
what's keeping nomads here.

The family I'm staying with move
four times a year with the seasons.

At 2,500 metres above sea level,

this is their spring camp.

TOGETHER: Sain baina uu.

I am Kate.

Kate. Hello. Sain baina uu.

Odnor and...?

Chimed. Chimed.

Chimed.

Thank you for inviting me
to stay with your family.

Chimed is 78
and the head of a large family.

She has ten children.

Her youngest daughter,
Odnor, lives with her.

Can I have a look around?
Will you show me around?

OK.

What is happening?

Odnor is married to Serego,

and Chimed's youngest son, Battsog,
is staying with them

to help with
the busy cashmere wool harvest.

GOAT BLEATS LOUDLY

Don't they make
the most terrible noise?

Oh-oh, look at these!

The family own
an impressive 200 goats,

150 sheep
and over 100 yaks and horses.

So, these Kashmir? Goat?

He's hungry.

You can just see some lovely

black and brown and white dots
on the hillside.

And that's all the adults coming in.

So, all these little ones
are going to get a feed in a minute.

So, it will get very noisy.

Baah! Baah!

The animals are like the family's
bank account,

their meat and milk providing food
and their wool an income.

In Mongolia, they're key
to nomadic success or failure.

Are there many wolves in this area?

Oh, dear.

I'm not allowed
any more goats at home.

But I might have to make
an exception.

Beautiful!

They all live in this communal tent
known as a ger.

It's their kitchen,
living room and bedroom.

Has this always been your home?

Chimed grew up
during the communist era,

working on a state farm with
her husband, who died two years ago.

Their return to nomadism in
the 1990s revived a long heritage...

..and Chimed proudly displays
her family's heirlooms

in the roof of the ger.

It's beautiful.

Well, this is my wedding ring.

This ring belonged
to my husband's grandmother.

And inside there is engraved
the word "twelfth".

And she was married
on 12th September.

My parents also got married
on 12th September.

And me and my husband got married
on the 12th September.

So, three generations got married
on the same day.

So, it's very special.

Life is fragile out here
in the Gobi.

It's vital to keep
their animals safe,

especially at this time
with the newborns,

like this gorgeous two-day-old foal,
the first of the year.

If those family heirlooms
remind them of their past,

this new foal is a potent symbol
of their future.

It's the most magical place.

The film crew and I are camping

a few hundred metres up the valley
from the family.

Clearly, this is a way of life
that is very precious.

And they're here with dignity.

They're not living
in abject poverty.

There just seems to be
a huge amount of...

..a sort of, well,
I think pride is the only word
I can think of, really,

in the way that they live this life.

DOG BARKS

It's ten to six.

First morning...

..waking up in the Gobi.

Here we are.

Morning, everyone.

I can't do this...!

There's not a sound.

It's so quiet.

I haven't even washed my face
for you. I'm so sorry.

Meeting the family yesterday, which
is always quite nerve-racking...

..because it's a big leap.

You're kind of just stepping
into their lives

and hoping
that they might take you in.

And, er...

..that's a big ask.

But it was just a really lovely,
lovely start.

GOATS BLEAT

Every morning begins
with rounding up the animals.

The relationship between
man and beast

is the bedrock of nomadism
and goes back millennia.

CHIMED SNEEZES

Bless you!

But Chimed and her family enjoy some
of life's modern amenities, too.

And what do you run off here?

Most nomads in Mongolia
are embracing modernity.

Why not? If it makes a tough life
that little bit easier,

whether it be a solar panel

or a four-by-four to help
fetch the water from the local well.

From their current camp, it's an
8km round trip every three days.

Before you had a car,

so maybe when you were a child,

how would you have collected
the water then?

Oh, so, here's the well, here.

I can't move it on my own.

OK, ready?

THEY STRAIN HARD TOGETHER

Wow, this is not easy!

KATE:

The adult goats and sheep
are separated from their young,

so they can graze
on the surrounding mountains.

The four-by-four was perfect
for fetching water,

but to follow the herd,
nothing beats a horse.

This is the most extraordinary
saddle.

I feel very perched up,
very upright and rather elegant.

But only when I'm standing still.

So, you want me to keep
the reins short? OK.

OK, yeah.

And feet forward?

Right...

If I can walk by the end of today,
it'll be a miracle.

OK.

Mongolians are famed
for their horsemanship

and, like Odnor, most learn to ride
from the age of four.

Back in the 12th century,

it was horsepower that helped
Mongol warlord Genghis Khan

create one of the largest empires
the world has ever known.

Horse is, er, mur.

Yama?

Yama, goat. Goat.

Khon, sheep. Khon.

Today, we're using horses to help
keep an eye on the livestock

and to protect them from predators,

foxes, wolves and snow leopards,

that roam these bleak mountains.

Mountain. Mountain. Yeah.

Mountain. Mountain. Mountain.

So, yama is goat.

And I've been teaching her English.

So, what is yama? Yama, goat.

Goat, you see? Yeah.
So, we've been teaching each other.

Khon?

Sheep. Sheep.

We're getting good!

And mur?

Horse.

See?

So, yeah. So, I've just had
a little language lesson.

I am practically local.

Right. Oh, my goodness...

Odnor spends much of the day
watching the flock,

but also finds time to do her
beautiful and intricate sewing.

Did Chimed teach you to sew?

So, do the men sew as well?
Will your husband sew?

Actually, my husband,
he is better than me.

He's good.

He has a sewing machine.

KATE IMITATES A SEWING MACHINE

So, is it always your job
to come out with the sheep?

I haven't met your son yet.

Does he not live with you
and Chimed?

So, who looks after them
in Dalanzadgad?

Odnor's children, aged 15 and 13,

only come home during holidays
and for special occasions.

So, did you do the same?

Under the old communist system,
a strict education policy

helped achieve one of the highest
literacy rates in the world.

It continues today.

But to get an education,

children must still go
to the local towns and cities.

And as those cities grow,

young people are being drawn
to the modern world

and away from their nomadic culture.

And your children, Odnor,
will they be nomads?

I suppose what I'm gradually
unpicking about this way of life

is, you know, Odnor went to school,
but she's chosen to live this life.

You know, no-one's stopping
anybody progressing,

but I think they are aware
that their knowledge is meaningful.

Erm, but it does allow them
to survive

and it allows them
to live a life that they choose.

They want to live this life.

Erm, they have an option
to be somewhere else

and yet they want to be here.

Today's a big occasion
in the nomads' calendar.

All of Chimed's sons, daughters and
grandchildren have come together.

Every year, the family unites
to castrate the young male animals.

Did you learn from your father
how to do the castration?

It's for you.

Now I can come and sit beside you.

First, it's the young stallions.

How often do your family
all get together?

When do you see everybody?

HE GRUNTS WITH EFFORT

Next, the goats and lambs.

All the smoke around here,
as far as I can gather,

is almost like
a sort of healing smoke.

Again, very much part
of this ceremony.

LAMB BLEATS

It's a lot easier than a horse.

With a quick blessing,
the lamb's released.

It may look harsh,

but Battsog's doing it
with real respect for his animals.

Oh, dear...

It's a rite of passage.
Think of it that way.

LAMB BLEATS

The iron-rich testicles are believed
to have health-giving properties.

But the real treat is to boil them
in salted water with yellow rice

to make a rich soup.

There's a lot here.
I think I've got more than my share.

Erm...

Looks like hundreds!

I've got... So, these...

You just do that? Really?

Ah!

OK, now you've done it,
I'm going to have to do it.

Mine's bigger than yours!

This one? Like that?

Oh, don't make me laugh.
It'll be a disaster.

OK, ready?

Actually, that's quite good.

It's not chewy at all.
It's very soft and rather delicious.

Oh, my goodness!
My poor little lambs at home...

They've got very fine testicles
at the moment.

I wasn't going to castrate them
this year and now, maybe I will!

No, no, you must give everyone else.

Today, I'm going 15km
down the valley

to visit Odnor's sister Suren.

She and her husband, Tsengel,
are still in their winter quarters,

in a sheltered spot
on the edge of the mountains.

Tomorrow, they're moving
to their spring camp.

Hi, Suren!

How are you?

Like most nomads in the Gobi,

Suren and Tsengel move
to the same spring camp every year.

It's deep in the mountains

and at this time
should be full of fresh grass.

Looking around,
there are animals everywhere.

It must be quite hard
herding them around here.

It looks like they can go right up
into the mountains.

You must be very fit.

Good calf muscles,
running up the hills.

OK.

Hello, dog.

So, you all seem very relaxed

for a family who is about to pack up
your whole house and move.

How do you decide when to move
from this, your winter quarters,

to your spring and summer quarters?

If you didn't move,
would you feel that you'd lost

some very important part
of your identity?

Oh, thank you.

We're all sleeping in
Suren's ger tonight,

the crew and I, Suren and her
family, all squashed together.

I have a thing about
communal sleeping.

I just think sleeping
is something that should be

kind of quite a private thing.

You know, you've sort of been
with people all day.

I wasn't really
looking forward to it.

But...

Well, to put it very simply,
I slept incredibly well.

It was lovely and warm.

Erm, everyone was very well behaved.

There was no nasty smells or noises
to keep anyone awake.

And what a beautiful morning.

With a busy day ahead,
everyone's lending a hand.

Suren's brother-in-law, Serego,
has brought his truck.

Do you want a hand, Suren?

Shall we put it on the back?

The ger's an amazingly simple
structure,

with a canvas outer to protect
against the wind and the rain,

a warm felted sheep-wool liner

and a wooden frame
to hold it all up.

So, what next?

Isn't it funny?

Men always have to pack the car.
Always.

Oh...!

Last on the truck
are the youngest animals

that can't make the arduous journey
on foot.

That's so clever.
That's just genius.

There is something lovely
about that ability

to be able to up sticks and go
whenever you feel like it.

As long, obviously, as it's the Day
of the Dog, the Cock or the Horse,

I think.

It's taken less than four hours

to pack the entirety
of Suren and Tsengel's home.

Once, a herd of yaks would have
carried it over the mountains.

Today, it all fits onto
Serego's truck.

But their most valuable possession,
the herd,

is still driven the traditional way,

by horse.

This is a wonderful experience.

But it wasn't this romantic view

that brought so many nomads
back to this way of life

after communism collapsed
in the 1990s.

High inflation and food shortages

made life in towns and settlements
unbearable.

So, families like Suren's chose to
return to nomadism in the desert.

After four hours'
heading steadily uphill,

finally, fresh mountain pasture.

It's been a daylong
10km ride over the mountains

to get to the spring camp.

Oh, very good.

Home-made gers, like this one,
are found across Asia.

It faces south,
so it gets the warmth of the sun

and is away from
the prevailing bad weather.

A ger is often given to
a young couple when they get married

and they'll use it
for the rest of their life.

Are you happy with your new home,
with your new spot?

Yeah.

I could live with this view,
I have to say.

THEY BOTH LAUGH

It's pretty special, it really is.

The next day, back at Chimed's,
there's sad news.

Under cover of darkness, wolves have
killed the beautiful young foal.

Do you lose a lot of your livestock
to wolves?

If you find where the wolf is,
what will you do?

But Battsog also believes that
predators bring some benefits.

I don't know what I'd do if I was in
his situation. I simply don't know.

He's the one that lives here.

He's the one whose livestock
are being killed.

I can't...

I can't stand here and say,
"Don't kill that wolf."

It's not my place to.

Odnor and Chimed are taking me
to their local stupa or shrine.

It's 4km up the valley from their
camp, just below a holy mountain.

It's a Buddhist place of worship.

During communist rule,
Buddhism was banned

and many temples were destroyed.

But with its collapse,
Buddhist traditions returned

and now Odnor and Chimed
can practise their beliefs openly.

As we turn the wheel,

our prayers drift out on the wind
and to the corners of the earth.

Chimed's eldest daughter's camp
is just 500 metres down the valley.

Tsitsigar has asked me
to help comb her Kashmir goats.

After China, Mongolia is the world's
largest producer of cashmere.

It comes from grooming out
the goats' winter hair.

For nomads, like Tsitsigar,
it's an important cash crop.

So, do you just do this
once a year?

A kilo of raw cashmere sells for
around 70,000 tughriks, or £25.

With her flock of 250 goats,

Tsitsigar can earn
up to £4,500 a year.

Tell you what, in another few days,

you're going to have to do this
with my hair as well.

As we comb the goats,
the weather outside turns.

WIND HOWLS

During spring in the Gobi,

Mongolians talk of having
four seasons in one day,

turning from a blue sky
to a snowstorm in minutes.

But this blizzard's nothing
compared to the harsh winters,

when fierce storms known as dzuds
often sweep in, decimating herds.

In 2010, a severe storm
was estimated to have killed

a staggering
eight-and-a-half million animals.

Thousands of herding families were
forced to abandon their way of life.

Tsitsigar may earn good money
from her cashmere,

but one bad winter
could wipe her out.

Do you hope
that this way of life, erm,

will continue, say,
for your grandchildren's generation?

Well, this is the view...

..that's greeted me
from my tent flap this morning.

Basically...

..it's a whiteout.

So, erm, I'm all wrapped up...

..in every layer of clothing
I possess.

Last night,
it was a pretty wild night.

And at around 3.30,

the dogs were going absolutely mad,

which made me think,

"I wonder if that means that
there's a lot of wolf activity?"

I just wonder,
with all the commotion
that was going on last night,

whether they did come back.

Battsog decided to leave
the foal carcass out for the wolves.

With cubs to feed, the chance
of them returning was high.

So, it was an opportunity for us
to put out a night-vision camera

to see if we could catch the wolves
in action.

Erm, I just wanted to show you
what the camera found.

Do you want to come and see?

So, you can see
this is the foal here.

DOGS BARK

You can hear the dogs.

But watch what happens...

In the spring, everybody does say
the weather is, er, unpredictable.

Or predictably unpredictable,
I suppose.

And yesterday was a day
of blizzards and dust storms

and freezing temperatures.

And you literally couldn't
wear enough clothes.

And we've woken up this morning
to the most beautiful sunshine

and, erm, all of us,

we're all in kind of
spring-clean mode.

Lots of shaking out of sleeping bags
and washing of hair,

which is a completely pointless
exercise

because, in about two minutes,

I'm going to be down the hill
with Odnor,

sorting out her sheep
and covered in dust again.

But, you know,
a girl's got to try.

We're heading off to the local town
of Dalanzadgad,

to sell some of the family's
cashmere.

It's a three-hour drive through
the mountains and spirits are high.

I have a feeling this is going to be
a dangerous day,

going to the big city
with two nomads.

The last time they were in town
was over three months ago.

So, before you had a car,

would you go by horse to the town
to sell the cashmere?

Dalanzadgad is the provincial
capital, with a population of
18,000.

Like many urban areas in Mongolia,
it's growing rapidly,

as the younger generation
is tempted by modern city life.

But it's also home to former nomads,

whose livelihoods were ruined
by the storms in 2010.

Odnor and Serego
are meeting a cashmere trader

by the side of the road.

Mongolian cashmere is said to be
the finest in the world.

The combed hair will be processed

into the fine and highly prized
yarn in the capital, Ulaanbaatar.

That's £250
for ten kilos of goat hair.

Since the end of communism,
the production of cashmere has grown

to become Mongolia's
second largest industry.

Odnor and Sergo
take me to the local supermarket

to spend
some of their hard-earned cash.

For me, it's a very interesting idea

that you can hang on
to your nomadism

and your culture
and your traditions,

which they most certainly have.

But equally, you know,
they go to the supermarket

and they buy a shedload of sweets.

I think it's sort of rather
pragmatic nomadism.

Mongolia's economy is booming.

And not because of cashmere.

Large mineral deposits
have been found beneath the Gobi

and mining has become
the country's biggest industry.

It's estimated that it will grow
by 30% over the next few years.

This new-found wealth
is having a negative impact

on Mongolia's nomads.

Do you think that
more and more people

will be tempted away
from nomadic life

and go into mining
and into industry

and move to the cities?

It's hardly surprising that young
people are being tempted away,

when the mining sector
pays up to $2,000 a month,

13 times what most herders can make.

But this family has a large
and valuable herd.

As well as goats and sheep,

they are the proud owners of a fine
collection of horses and yaks.

Yaks are supremely adapted to life
in this harsh landscape.

They used to carry the family's
possessions when they moved camp,

but with four-by-fours and trucks
doing the hard work now,

yaks are kept as a symbol
of pride and prestige,

as well as for their milk and wool.

That's fantastic.

Just magnificent.
Magnificent scenery.

There is nothing cooler than a yak.

In two days' time, there's a yak
festival in a neighbouring valley

and the whole herd will be on show.

You look out at these, you know,
seemingly barren hills and think,

"How on earth
do you keep livestock alive?"

You know, these animals
are as canny as their owners,

when it comes to making a living
out of this landscape.

It's lovely to watch.

The family have invited me
to go with them to the yak festival.

But I need to be properly dressed.

Odnor has made me a del,
a traditional Mongolian overcoat.

It's amazing!

She's very, very clever,
your daughter.

So, do you think I look OK
for the yak festival?

I won't let your family down?

TRADITIONAL MONGOLIAN MUSIC

It's the day of the much-anticipated
yak festival.

TANNOY:

Just how Mongolia
manages its transition

to a modern global economy,

yet maintains
its rich nomadic heritage,

is a difficult balancing act.

But festivals like this,

set up by the regional government
to support nomads

and to encourage tourism,

are a step in the right direction.

And they're a wonderful opportunity
for nomadic families
to come together.

Do you speak English?
I do speak English.

I want to speak English.

You are! And doing it very well.

I am study English. Yeah.
Do you understood?

I understand completely.

Very good!

Over 300 yaks have been herded
into the valley.

The festivities begin
with yak rodeo...

SPECTATORS GASP

CHEERING

Next is a competition
for all the family.

What do you want me to do?

The men must catch a yak
and shear it,

while we make a rope from its wool.

Hold it tight? OK.

We were a little bit slow.

I'm sorry I couldn't help more.

Yeah, it was hard on your hands.

And now, like any good
Mongolian spring day,

it's starting to snow...

And in the grand tradition
of all country fairs,

there are prizes galore.

Tsitsigar has won
the best female yak.

Whoo-hooo!

Chimed looks so delighted.

Look how proud she looks.

This whole festival is about

restoring yak herding
to this province

and remembering how important
these animals are

to the nomadic families here.

But most of all, I've just had a
real sense of how nomadic families

may live these very remote
and often isolated lives,

but it doesn't mean that there isn't
a really strong sense of community

and tradition and culture.

And today has been all about that.

With the festival over,

my time with Chimed and her family
has come to an end, too.

These look beautiful.
What are they called?

Buuz? Uh-huh, buuz.

Mm...!

It seems like you've managed
to, erm,

to partner in a very successful way

tradition and modern life,

without, er, affecting, erm,

the sort of heart of nomadic life.

Is it a good life?

It's just been the most fantastic
privilege, er, to be here

and I just wanted to say thank you.

Aw...

Don't say that.

Thank you.

Look at us!

There's no doubt that nomads
across the globe are under threat

and the odds are stacked against
their extraordinary way of life.

But here in Mongolia, at least,
I'm cautiously optimistic.

This is modern nomadism...

..with all its traditions, with all
its cultures absolutely intact.

But these are people
who are not shying away
from the modern world at all.

Chimed and her family have shown me

that there's a place
for nomads today

and I'm really hopeful
that their descendants will be here

in centuries to come.

Thank you for everything.

This is clearly not
an easy choice of life.

Erm, and I think that's what
makes me admire them even more.

They are nomads and they're
fantastically proud of that

and they seem almost as much part
of this landscape

as the mountains and
the birds of prey and the wolves.