Last year I invested into studying food sustainability and what that meant. I practiced the 100 Mile Diet – eating locally, growing my own food, participating in my local food community and studying global growth, production and systems. Now being in Mongolia, pursuing sustainability is such a drastically different situation.
Mongolia has two worlds.
The first world is the traditional nomadic life.
The nomadic life is a spontaneous example of the 100 Mile Diet and low impact living.
Nomadic families reside in gers or tents which consist of zero nails. Only wooden poles, beams and fencing covered with animal felt maintain the structure of the ger.
- Often three generations of one family resides in one ger, sleeping four, five or even six.
- The only electricity in the ger is a lightbulb, possibly a TV and nowadays many are equipped with an efficiently used solar panel.
- There’s no running water, sinks are portable with buckets underneath and water is obtained from a nearby natural source.
The stove is wood-burning (also sacred in Mongolian culture) which is occasionally supplemented with a small electric burner.
- Transportation is dominated by motorcycle these days, but during warm months horseback is still the transportation of choice to go from neighbor to neighbor or to herd animals.
- In terms of food, nomadic people generally have at least three kinds of livestock which make up the majority of their diet. People who live in the countryside (about 700,000 + of the just over 3 million in population) are usually herders, tending to animals for their livelihood. In Mongolia there are five primary livestock animals: sheep, cow, yak, goat, horse and camel. A typical countryside household has dried meat hanging from the rafters, meat soup or noodles on the stove, and animals on the steppe ready for slaughtering. Wheat, root vegetables, dairy and meat are really all that are required for the standard food repertoire.
Homemade noodles are a staple made with wheat and water, rolled into a round circle like pizza dough, quickly cooked atop the steaming stove, then cut into thick strips. Much of Mongolian food isn’t what would typically be deemed as something gourmet. The food isn’t exactly delicate or subtle, spices aren’t widely utilized and diverse ingredients are not in abundance. However, there is something delicious in the freshness and the blatant simplicity of Mongolian food.
Byyz are another national favorite. Made of the same simple dough the noodles are made of, the wheat dumplings are filled with cut-up mutton, onion and salt. Usually steamed (although some are boiled) byyz can be found at any small restaurant in both city or countryside. They usually cost less than $.50 each and are eaten in plentitude. Arguably the largest holiday in the country, Tsagaan Sar (White Month), is celebrated by making and eating hundreds and hundreds of byyz.
Hyyshyr is another one of the most popular Mongolian foods and is also eaten at a large national holiday –the Nadaam Festival. The dough is the same dough as the rest and the meat is again mutton (the meat of choice in Mongolia is mutton), spiced slightly differently from byyz. Hyyshyr are made by being deep-fried in oil. They resemble crescent-shaped pastries and are fatty and pacifying.
In terms of choosing meat, only eating certain cuts of meat isn’t even thought of here. Not one drop of animal is wasted after a slaughtering. Its entire innards are cleaned, placed into a large bowl, boiled and consumed. The rest is dried or frozen to be saved. I’ve seen heart, kidney, intestine, tongue, brain and entire head eaten. Hoorhok is what this cooked meat is called and is made by placing large cuts of meat into a metal bucket together with hot stones and whole potatoes and cooked atop hot coals.
From the perspective of 100 Mile Diet concepts, where minimizing carbon footprints and eating locally are the primary concerns, this diet is successful. However, after examining some of the national health survey results from the ministry of nutrition, it’s evident that the typical national diet isn’t delivering what a wholly nutritional diet should be fulfilling. There simply aren’t enough diverse foods to provide with total nutrition. Some of the most prevalent ailments resulting from diet (primarily in young children) include Vitamin D deficiency, stuntedness and anemia. (Information according to the National Survey of 2004).
- The other aspect besides meat that makes up Mongolian food culture is dairy – dairy of all kinds, in all forms and from all different animals. Cow milk, horse-milk, fermented horse-milk, sheep milk, yak milk, goat milk, yogurt, fermented yogurt, butter, cream, soft and hard cheeses. Dairy is the snack of choice and a corner of the ger is always stocked with bins and buckets of various dairy foods.
Vegetables (besides roots vegetables) are few and far between, sometimes absent altogether in the countryside. Mostly imported from China or Russia, the vegetables are relatively high in price and are often found wilted or browned and tightly wrapped in saran – nothing about them screams freshness. Being that Mongolia is traditionally a nomadic culture, which also has extraordinarily severe winters, the education of diverse vegetable cultivation and utilization is missing. Thus the country’s food culture has developed sans vegetables. The demand for vegetables is low and the result is vegetables low in quality and relatively high in price. Fruits are more ubiquitously favored, but are also low in quality and high in price.
Overall the countryside lifestyle is simple, requiring little resources and having a small impact on the surrounding environment. The food culture is also simple – fresh, local, yet extremely limited in diversity.
The second world is the urban life, pointedly the capital city, Ulaanbaatar, which is home to almost half the entire country’s population.
With the current economic boom taking place, Ulaanbaatar is a literal example of the growth – being stretched to accomodate the influx of people, politics, infrastructure, and wealth.
- Even though I’ve written of the traffic in this city more than once, I can’t seem to get past the constant and aggressive traffic here. There are traffic jams 75% of the day. Hummers bumper to bumper, utility vehicles with tinted windows, small Korean cars, broken-down Chinese cars that double as taxis, and buses packed with people – are all stalled on the street regularly. The roads were simply not designed for the amount of cars Ulaanbaatar has today. I know some locals who travel four hours daily in order to get from place to place, not because of the distance, but because of the traffic. Alternatively, the countryside often lacks roads altogether and to get to certain places, driving along hardly existing bumpy dirt roads is the only option.
Since the exponential increase of people moving to the city in the past years a ger district has been set up in the outskirts of the city. This is where the traditional Mongolian homes, which to me are partnered with vast expanses of land and wild animals, have made haphazard neighborhoods that seem strangely unnatural in a modern city setting. The ger district homes have sheet metal fencing separating them, dirt streets and holes in the ground for toilets. During the wintertime the city is choked with pollution not only from the intense traffic, but from the copiously burned plastic bottles, rubber tires and other unsuitable fuel.
The city doesn’t exactly accomodate the traditional diet of food directly from livestock, but it has many grocery stores and mini marts with almost anything one could want. However, besides the meat, dairy, some cereal grains and root vegetables, all of the food is imported.
- In the grocery stores, much of the produce available on the shelves is plastic-wrapped on styrofoam boards and almost all of it is either old or unripe, and what grocery stores in the west would probably deem as unsellable.
The culture in the city is stepping towards modern day city, yet is growing so quickly that resources and infrastructure systems are struggling to keep up and find sustainable solutions…
Although I’ve experienced intense contrasts before, there is something dramatic about the contrast of Mongolia’s traditional nomadic life and its urban life, particularly in terms of its traditional and developing food system.
In one hour one can go from being at the edge of nature’s purity, an untouched world where it seems man has never marred, where breakfast is milked moments before drinking it and dinner is noodles cut the moment before they’re cooked.
To…
An overwhelming city clogged with traffic, pollution and debris where there is hardly a reminder that green grass grows; where a juxtaposition of a Louis Vuitton store, mall complexes and designer imports are ostentatiously displayed and yet where most of its inhabitants live on $1.25/day; where regular food is becoming what’s intensely preserved, frozen beneath layers of plastic and where fresh and local food is harder to come by.
Today Mongolia’s culture contains two in one.
Working to preserve and progress both traditional countryside and urban cultures will be dominated by education and the practice of integrating ideas for countryside life with ideas for urban life. Only by acknowledging that each culture both depends and affects each other, will real and lasting solutions be obtainable for both – and for all of Mongolia.


































































