I Learnt Something Today - Again

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.