Police lining their own pockets – Riches under historical tombs – Spiritual powers punish with death

Day: 260-262

Sunrise:
06:39/06:35

Sunset:
20:09/20:12

Total kilometers:
1341

Soil condition:
Ice, snow

Temperature – Day (maximum):
10°C

Temperature – day (minimum):
0°C

Temperature – Night:
minus 12°C

Latitude:
51°33’337”

Longitude:
099°15’341”

Maximum height:
1981 m above sea level

Since all the misunderstandings about the stupid goat and the containers have been cleared up, we’ve been getting evening visits from our neighbors again. Ultsan reports on the Jade Mountain, which is getting smaller and smaller because a large number of treasure hunters are now roaming around there. “When you stand on the mountain in the evening and look down, hundreds of campfires light up,” he says. “Do the men stop working at night?” I ask. “No, people dig in shifts. If you leave your place, someone else takes over immediately. In the meantime, they’ve already dug a huge hole in which a lot of jade has been found.” “With so many people, it must be full of dirt,” I mused. “You could say that. There’s garbage everywhere and it messes up the taiga. Everyone brings their stuff in but nobody cleans up. It’s not a nice place anymore.” “Is there any crime in the meantime?” “I haven’t heard of it yet. But accidents happen all the time. Some even get seriously injured. Sometimes a hand, arm or leg is crushed by sliding debris.” “No wonder. There are no safety regulations. It seems that everyone works at their own risk and with bad equipment,” I say. “That’s the way it is. But there’s a new problem. The police are turning up more and more often and confiscating the jade. It looks like the government wants to enforce the ban on digging. But with so few police officers and so many jade seekers, only a few have been affected so far. Incidentally, our civil servants are lining their own pockets. They confiscate the stones to sell them to the dealers. It’s a fantastic business for the guys as they don’t have any work themselves and don’t risk their health digging. In any case, there are hardly any jade buyers at the moment because of them. They seem to be scared off. I think that’s another reason why the traders don’t really dare to buy jade at the moment.” “Why? You mean they suspect the seller might be a policeman in civilian clothes?” I ask. “It’s possible. Isn’t it?” Ultsan ponders. “But then the police officers would be ruining their own business. That doesn’t go together.” “Why? They’re clever. They confiscate the buyer’s stones at the same time and sell them to someone else with whom they negotiate a special deal. Anything is possible in Mongolia,” he says. “In any case, I can’t sell my jade at the moment. It looks like all the effort I put into finding jade over the winter was for nothing.” “You should wait. It will be very valuable in a few years’ time. Then you’ll sell your treasure and get rich,” I reply with a laugh. “That’s what I thought too. I collect beautiful pieces, bury them in the taiga, wait for the right time and one day we’ll be made people,” he laughs, also looking at his Tsaya.

Riches beneath historic burial sites

“Since you’re talking about treasure, it really does exist in the taiga. Tell them about it, Ultsan,” Tsaya interjects. “Should I really?” he asks. “Why not? Tanja and Denis won’t set out and snatch the treasure away from us,” she replies with a grin. “Okay. Over 100 years ago, an old man came riding through the Tsagaan Nuur region with his 10 oxen. All the animals were laden with leather saddlebags filled with gold. It was a rich man who didn’t begrudge anyone his treasure, obviously didn’t want to pass it on and hid it in this part of the taiga.” “A nice fairy tale,” I reply kindly. “It’s not a fairy tale. A young girl saw the treasure. She lived to be 100 years old and was a great shaman in her later years. She was the mother of the shepherd who lives a few kilometers from here. Her son has visited you several times. Do you remember?” asks Tsaya. “Was it the man who no longer drinks alcohol because a shaman cured his drinking addiction?” asks Tanja. “Exactly. He’s been sober for over a year thanks to the shamanic ritual. Before, he was a bad drunkard who was no good and now he’s a nice man who’s getting better month by month,” Tsaya confirms. “And his mother was also a shaman?” I ask. “Yes, and a good one at that. And she was the one who showed the ox caravan the way. Because the cover of a saddlebag slipped, her eyes happened to fall on the contents. She discovered the gold. I’m sure the treasure exists,” says Ultsan.

“There are still many treasures in Mongolia. Riches have been found under the deer stones, human stones and other early burial sites alone,” Ultsan continues his story. “Do you mean the stones that were engraved thousands of years ago with rings, various geometric shapes, deer and other animals?” “Yes.” “On our ride through your country, we saw some of the interesting stelae that suddenly rise up out of the earth into the sky. Some of them are said to be up to five meters high and over half a meter thick. There are said to be over 500 of these deer stones in Mongolia,” I say. “Yes, we have many such tombstones,” he replies thoughtfully. According to the literature, it is assumed that the deer stones date from the Bronze Age and the early Iron Age. So 2000 to 700-300 before our era. Apparently we don’t know exactly. However, it is generally agreed that tribal chiefs and influential people of nomadic peoples were buried among them. Probably from the early Scythian culture, evidence of which has been found in the Tuva region and the Altai-Sayan region. “You look so thoughtful?” I ask Ultsan. “Actually, I don’t think there are any treasures to be found among the deer and human stones today. That should all be explored. But maybe there is something under the other tombs?” “You mean the east-facing, rectangular table tombs?” “Yes, exactly. The stone clusters on which human figures are sometimes erected.” “As far as I know, military leaders, tribal leaders and dignitaries were buried there from 300 BC to 100 AD. Others, according to reports, date from the 6th to 8th century. This was the time of the Turkish Empire. However, there are also Uyghur burial sites in Mongolia. In the 7th century, they allied themselves with the Chinese Tang dynasty and in 744 they conquered Mongolia.” “Well, you’re well informed,” says Tsaya. “Oh, I’ve only recently read about these tombs. As we rode past a few and I barely understood Bilgee’s Mongolian explanation, I was really interested in the subject,” I explain. “I don’t know much about history, but I know that not so long ago a man discovered a huge bronze bowl under such a pile of stones, which is now on display in a museum in Ulan Bator. The man is said to have made a lot of money from it,” says Ultsan. “But surely you’re not allowed to dig in such exposed places?” I reply. “You’re right about that. That’s forbidden.” “And how did the man earn money if he’s not allowed to dig there? I would imagine that all historical burial sites in Mongolia are the property of the government.” “Yes, yes. I believe that too. I don’t know how the finder was paid. Maybe he lied,” Ultsan ponders.

Spiritual powers concerned with death

“Then the topic turns to Saintsetseg. “When you asked her to perform a ritual for your upcoming journey, we were shocked,” says Tsaya. “Why is that?” I wonder. She hasn’t completed her training yet and still holds rituals. Especially for tourists and urban Mongolians from Mörön. She’s not allowed to do this until she’s finished her training. The spirit resents her and punishes her and the people in her immediate surroundings. The Tuwas hold her indirectly responsible for the death of Ultsan’s father and her sister’s eldest son, as well as for the death of her own son and Ultsan’s brother, who were slain in Tsagaan Nuur. This all happened in the same year. The year Saintsetseg began the first rituals. Some of her reindeer were killed by wolves. Interestingly, mostly only hers and none from other families. Now she only has two reindeer. To be honest, the clan doesn’t want her to hold a ritual for you. They are afraid of further misfortune.” “Wow, those are some serious accusations. Of course we don’t want her to perform a ritual under these circumstances. But how do you know that the rituals are to blame?” I ask, stunned. “As I said before. All the deaths happened immediately after she began her work as a shaman.” “Hm, and who says when her training is complete?” “When the spirit enters the shaman’s body. Then she’s done.” “And how do you know that the spirits don’t go into her body?” “You can feel it. You can see it in her face, in her dancing, in the fact that she only holds two-hour ceremonies even though the spirit needs two hours to enter the body. All our shamans hold rituals that last six to 12 hours. You saw it yourself with Gamba. Saintsetseg says things that come from her own spirit, that is, her personal opinion, and does not say anything about the spirits from the other world. There are many examples of how we can tell whether a shaman is fully trained or not,” she explains, followed by a long pause.

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