We weren’t quite sure what to expect. We had read about it
and we knew it is a very significant time on the Mongolian calendar. We sensed
the excitement building as the days got closer and knew something was happening
because everything started to slow down in anticipation of the holiday. Naadam
is a festival celebrated all over Mongolia, always at this time of year and is
one of two big national holidays.
Getting tickets for the stadium events proved a little
harder than we expected. Excuses were that it was an election year, everyone
wanted tickets, that the queues were longer than expected, they were only
selling two tickets at a time. So when James’ contacts said they had tickets
for the three days of events at local prices, we were rather chuffed. Scalpers were out on the streets at
night a few days before and as we walked up to the stadium, there were still
tickets being pulled from plastic bags. Guess we were foreigners so they
figured we would be prepared to part with extra cash for the once in a life-time
show.
It was with excitement that we walked 3 kms through the
drizzle following lots of others making the pilgrimage. It was like the Royal
Show, lots of things to see outside the arena, sideshow alley, food stalls only
selling traditional foods, kids with balloons and a block of portable toilets
that I avoided.
Lots of people were dressed for the occasion, couples
wearing matching dels. A del is like a coat, either lighter fabric for summer
or heavier for winter. They are at least calf length and tied at the waist with
a sash. It’s common to see older people wearing them about the streets,
generally older gentlemen with bowed legs, Stetson hats and riding boots or
older ladies, also bow legged, but with high heel shoes, scalf tied around
there neck and sun hat on their heads. But for Naadam, there was a display of
Sunday best, brand new dels out for the occasion. Most were happy to stop and
pose for a photo.
Once inside, we found our seats, dried off the water then
sat and waited for it all to begin. It looked a little disorganised with people
in different uniforms and costumes all mingling together, but eventually they
made their way to different parts of the of the arena and the band struck up a
tune. The procession started with soldiers in ceremonial dress astride
beautiful white horses leading the way. They carried poles topped with gold
bands and white horse hair that caught the breeze. These poles are referred to
as flags and are quite significant in the culture. They are called “Yoson Kholt
Tsagaan Tug” or Nine White Banners. During war black ones are displayed but
these white ones are a sign of peace and democracy and live in the parliament.
The nine poles were placed in a circular stand and were guarded ceremoniously
by soldiers before being returned to parliament after the closing ceremony.
Standing Guard Over the Flags |
The Opening Ceremony was a little like the opening of the
Olympics with displays of dance and costumes, all significant in some way and
all states of Mongolia represented. There was Kazak dancing, lots of acknowledging
of the gods, a Buddhist monk, pop singers and the Mongolian Olympic team doing
a lap of honour. And all done in a language that we had no idea what they were
saying, but the spectacle was fantastic. The music stirred the soul and you
couldn’t help but get mixed up in the pride of the nation.
Enter the Cauldron |
Kazakh Dancers |
Singing the National Anthem |
Naadam Stadium Opening Ceremony |
Mongolian Olympic Team |
All the speeches done, the banners rolled away and the oval
cleared, out came the wrestlers. The main sports of Naadam are wrestling, horse
riding and archery, all talents deemed as important from years back. So this is
really serious stuff, with drug testing stations and the winner acquiring
immense status in the community, as well as rewards of cash and cars.
The strolled out, did their stretches and adjusted their
rather skimpy outfits. The tops were really just sleeves, joined with fabric at
the back and a string tied around their ample bellies. And the bottoms were
like budgie smugglers. They were either red or blue and embroidered with a
check pattern in places. Their heads were topped with a little cap made of
velvet, looking very Mongolian. The art of wrestling is ingrained with
ceremony. When the wrestler comes out, he jogs over to the guy who is his
“corner”, puts his arms up pretending to be an eagle, flies around him a little,
then the corner guy takes his cap. The wrestler then jogs over to the stand
with the Nine White Banners and does a circle of that, pretending to be an
eagle. I had a quiet giggle, not wanting to offend anyone and start a riot. But
did this guy know how silly he looked. I mean, he is a moving advertisement for
Jenny Craig but flapped around pretending to be a bird like he was on Play
School. But like I said, this is big bucks, so guess I’d do it too.
Anyway, he goes back into the middle and picks on a guy by
grabbing his budgie smuggles while squatting nose to nose with him. They do a
little dance like two crabs circling in the sand, until eventually one trips
the other over. The winner is the one who fell on top of the other guy. He gets
up, flaps his wings again and takes off to the Nine White Banners, curtseys to
they, then goes back and gets his hat and jogs off of the oval. I don’t know
how they score or why some big guys were fighting some much smaller guys, but
this went on for about two days. There obviously are grades because in the
paper were results talking about the grand eagle, the grand lion and lots of
other ferocious animals.
When we went back the second day, we spent some time
watching the archery, at least I could understand what the aim was there. They
shot arrows down a field and had to knock over some little wicker baskets at
the other end. I could see the skill in this. But at the other end were some
silly buggers standing next to the little wicker baskets, wouldn’t get me doing
that. Although, the tip of the arrow was a lump of fiber-glass, but still, it
would hurt. When they hit the baskets, they would wave their arms up, when they
missed, their arms were down. These men and ladies must have a good deal of
strength, they would tremble with tension as they pulled the string back.
Archery Competitors |
Archery Field |
Target |
There was another lesser known sport played, using the ankle
bones of sheep. (I have my own issues with ankle bones, but I put my fear aside
and investigated) It was called Ankle Bone Shooting. I call them knucklebones,
like we used to play with as kids. But these are flicked at a target while a
group of fellows sat in a circle. They had to flick the bone so that it landed
in a box, knocking out another bone. It was all done ceremoniously with
chanting and tossing the bone to each other before it is launched toward the
box. Again, I don’t understand the rules, but they looked like they were having
fun.
Shooting Ankle Bones |
We had put two of the three days behind up, and the third
day was the most girly. The paper had said it started at 10 am, so we were in the
square early. But, as is the way with information here, that wasn’t correct.
The procession of national costumes didn’t start till 12 but it gave us plenty
of time to look around (and enough time for me to dash to the Chinese Embassy
in pursuit of a visa…a very long story). It seemed like every second person in
the crowd had really dressed for the occasion. Mongolians are quite fashion
conscious and when you see their national costumes, it is easy to see where
that comes from. They are stunning, so beautifully embellished and in all
colours of the rainbow. And it was young and old, all so proud to display their
best outfits.
The procession was arranged in regions, so there was a sense
of competitiveness to be the best dressed. They strolled along in groups,
smiling and waving. Every now and then the procession would slow or stop, so we
had a good look. I had the camera ready and these fashion models were quite
keen to strike a pose so I could snap a million photos. When they stopped,
someone would call out to the crowd and hands would be shook and a chat
catching up on news. It was such a happy, friendly atmosphere with lots of
laughs.
Kazakh Family |
Blue Sky Tower and Sukhbaatar Square |
Just at the end of the procession, the rain started. It was
almost as if the clouds had waited to the end. But it didn’t dampen the
enthusiasm of the crowd. While we retreated to higher ground (a restaurant on
the third floor of a nearby building), everyone popped up a brolly and stood in
the rain to watch the catwalk while prizes were given for the best dressed. It
was a great end to fantastic festival that I am so glad we were here to see.
The party atmosphere is ongoing, the shops still closed and I think the vodka
sampled. But, how lucky are we to be a part of such national pride.
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