As you travel around the city and countryside you see
evidence that Mongolia is steeped in tradition and beliefs. Some things are
obvious, like entering a ger and moving to the left, passing something to
another with two hands, or grabbing someone’s hand after you have accidentally
stepped on their feet. But the pretty part of their tradition comes in the form
of coloured silk scarfs that can hang from statues, bridges or ceremonial poles
that sit in the centre of a pile of stones.
These scarfs are called Khadags and until today, when I read
a newspaper article, I didn’t realise the significance. I have seen them in
different settings and have always been drawn to both their mysticism and their
colourful beauty. The sudden splash
of colour on the landscape or a city bridge has something of a draw.
To quote the newspaper article they “symbolise purity,
goodwill, auspiciousness and compassion”. They are given as a gift and can
represent any occasion, weddings, funerals, births, graduations, arrivals or
departures. And I guess they are pretty affordable. The Dali Lama is known to
offer Khadags (known as hadas in Tibet) as gifts to diplomats, visitors and other monks. When given to
monks, they take the scarf then place it back on the worshipers neck to keep as a sign of good luck.
They are made of silk and here, they mainly seem to be blue,
although I have seen other colours. Khadags seem to be of different lengths, I am not sure why
and some are designed with words or pictures.
Again my trusty newspaper article gives me more information
about the vibrant colours of the khadags. White khadags represent the purity of
the heart and soul and the ever present milk, which is a staple of the
Mongolian diet. This colour khadag is usually given to very highly respected
older people and is often offered to government officers.
The blue Khadag is representative of the sky and seems to be
the most common colour used. It is this colour that I have seen most around the
city, tied to statues or bridges. It is the colour offered to anyone you
respect and given when greeting someone who is younger.
The yellow Khadag is a symbol of knowledge and religion, so
is often given to teachers.
Red and green Khadags are never used for greeting, but more
to signify religious rituals. The red is a symbol of fire and the green
represents Mother earth.
It is this mix of colour that I have seen atop piles of
stones (called Ovoo) in the countryside. There, on the top of green hills have
been shines, scarfs tied on a totem pole that reaches high. Shamanistic ritual
has it that when you approach one of these shrines, you walk around it three
times before adding your own stone to the pile.
I Googled Ovoo, and it talks about the shrines and the
custom of leaving offerings on the pile of stones. I had noticed paper cups,
empty vodka or soft drink bottled and plastic icons, on a few occasions,
crutches laid on the stones. Tucked amongst these have been the blue scarfs.
Google says to stop there on a journey ensures a safe passage but if you are in
a hurry, just honk the horn.
I have seen the khadags in Teralj, on my quite walk when I
felt like I was the only person on the planet. I had walked up a hill and found
an ovoo being worshiped by cows and yaks, their heads bowed as they munched on
the grass. They looked up for a moment, I guess wondering what I was doing,
puffing as I climbed.
Then when I took off down the hill, I followed the edge of
the river till I came to a large open space. The rubbish and empty vodka
bottles left by previous visitors confirmed that I wasn’t the only person on
the planet. At the other end of this footy oval size clearing was a big
grandfather tree. It’s trunk was wrapped in bands of silk, a rainbow red,
yellow, white, green and blue. There was obviously some significance to this
spot. A string of blue khadags formed a broken fence, maybe the cows had been
down here.
In the quite, I went closer, hoping I wasn’t activating some
curse for treading sacred ground, but drawn by curiosity. The tree was holding
these scarfs, almost for warmth, against the wind. The few that were on its
branches, dangled in the breeze. I walked around it and took photos, then just
stood and looked. It sort of held me there. I wondered who had decorated this
big old tree with broken branches. Why this tree, did this spot have
significance. Guess I will never know, the cows weren’t interested and there
was no one else to ask.
The culture here has lots to teach, the respect for land and
ancestors, superstitions supporting this. I would love to learn and experience
more. Although my newspaper article had spawned my need to know more, I am not
sure that I will trust this English publication more that I would trust Google.
Because, before writing this I went looking for more information. And what I found
was almost word for word my reference article. Although written by a Mongolian,
they too rely on Google for facts. Perhaps he would have done better to as his
grandmother.
