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The Wealth Of Shamans PDF Print E-mail
Friday, 20 April 2007
Walrus Magazine - hovsgol province/ulaan baatar—On a sunny afternoon, a man sits on the floor of his teepee (or ortz) in the mountains of northern Mongolia, drinking salty tea with reindeer milk and smoking cigarettes rolled in strips of newspaper. He is Ghosta, fifty-nine, a handsome man with high cheekbones and a broad, rugged face. Yet there is sadness in his eyes.

“My life is hard,” he says, more than once. He might be referring to his life as a nomadic reindeer herder, but no. He is talking about being a shaman.

“I have a responsibility for people in the community,” he says. “People who are struggling with sickness come for help and I cannot refuse.”

Ghosta is one of about 200 members of Mongolia’s Dukha minority who eke out an existence as reindeer herders in the alpine taiga along Mongolia’s border with Siberia. They move with the seasons, subsisting mainly on reindeer cheese and bread.
There are perhaps half a dozen shamans among the herders. They are the priests and healers of an ancient religion, the bridge between this world and that of the spirits. Here in the countryside, they keep the old ways, performing rituals only at night, in strict accordance with the seasons and the phases of the moon. They are wary of outsiders, and Ghosta talks only reluctantly.

He found his calling at the age of twenty-five, he says, at a time when he was “sick and becoming unconscious.” Shamanism is a family tradition, and the spiritual congress often begins when the future shaman confronts a life-threatening illness. Ghosta describes the day when he awoke from a mysterious sleep to find his father performing a ritual. “My father told me to put on his costume. I wore it for a while and took it off.” Soon after, he became a shaman.

“That was during socialism times,” he says. “Everything had to be done secretly.”

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