The Eastern Taiga of the Mongolia/Siberia frontier is a harsh place to survive. Men leave the warmth of their family homes for many days and brave temperatures which drop fifty degrees below zero, to collect precious stones demanded by the Chinese market.
Orosvoi kindles a fire from dry twigs gathered in the glacial rock fall. He sits down in the dark shades of dawn and waits for sunrise. He takes out a hand crafted pipe from inside his deel, the traditional Mongolian overcoat, and packs the bowl with tobacco. Lighting the coarse plant with a glowing ember from the fire, he inhales deeply then splutters in the icy air.
Last night was mild, maybe only six degrees below zero. Huddled beneath crude layers of sheepskin and felt, Orosvoi and his son spent the night here at an altitude of two thousand metres. They rode hard for two days, sleeping out beneath the star-spangled sky, following a path through forest inhabited by an isolated tribe of reindeer herders called the Tsataan. The Tsataan are one of the last truly nomadic tribes on earth. Having fled from Soviet persecution some fifty years ago, they now live in this remote corner of Mongolia. These elusive people are feared and are traded with respectfully. It is not unusual to find the body or skeleton of a trespasser in these woods.
Orosvoi and his son are not alone on their journey. Gandhii soon rises from beneath a heap of frost-coated saddle felt and sheets. Briskly he gets up and searches in his pockets for tobacco. Sitting opposite Orosvoi, he takes out his smoke and rolls it in a sliver of newspaper, lights up and looks around with a face chiselled with as much character as the mountains around him. His actions are quick and strong, as survival in this climate demands. Were it not for his kind disposition and keen sense of humour, one might fear him.
Gandhii has explored the Taiga of Khovsgul since he stopped work as a herder at the time of the Soviet withdrawal in 1985. He discovered the rock falls seven years ago and the value of the rock known as khash. These are green rocks from which they can earn 1000 tug (one dollar) per kilogram. There are also clear white rocks which can be worth twice as much if the quality is good. The Chinese make a long journey to buy these stones, which fetch a high price from craftsmen across China.
As Gandhii wraps linen around his frozen feet and slips them into a battered and stitched pair of riding boots, Orosvoii hangs a pot on a spit over the fire and throws in a handful of tea. The two men study a 50kg rock with a small blue torch built in to a cigarette lighter. They each ride with a pack horse, that will carry 100kg for at least two days, one rock in each saddle bag. The men have hidden the good rocks they found yesterday and will collect them when they head home.
PRESSURE
With knowledge of this new source of income spreading far and wide, more men are coming to the rock falls. As the sun rises, they begin to emerge in the surrounding terrain. Tough looking men bound over rocks in heavy boots, with chisels and torches. Although the men are accommodating of one another now, Gandhii – who was the first to start trading the rocks with the Chinese – fears a “war of the precious stones” is coming.
Today, the men will ride further into the mountains which line the Russian border in search of other rockfalls. They will be gone for up to ten days in order to find good quality stones to carry back. There is a potential value of two hundred dollars profit for each horse’s load. This can tide a family over well in Mongolia, but with the competition increasing, buyers are becoming harder to find.
There is a sense of urgency and adventure in the air as the three men saddle up their horses. They ride swiftly out over the scrub, across an icy river and head towards Yellow Mountain marking the border defended by Russian soldiers. With snow on its way the white rocks will become harder to find.
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