So I first stayed with the Siberian nomads. Each herding region has its own language (most almost completely undocumented) but many of them also speak Russian. I had a Russian speaker (who was in light contact with them for trading) confirm earlier that year I could help with the big autumn reindeer migration so they knew I was coming and would need shelter (though they nor I really knew exactly when we would meet, I still had to find them). I had some phrases written in Russian (didn’t help as they were either not relevant or the person couldn’t read) and some basic Russian speaking skills but it too was almost completely unhelpful. That way of life and their accents too different from what I studied. Plus they prefer their native language. Lots of pantomime, laughing it off, and kindness from them. I learned nouns first, I practiced throughout my day (usually with the little kids as they are kind and my struggles kept them entertained) and eventually strung sentences and conversations together.

I should have known the Kazakh people had their own language but I just assumed they spoke Mongolian (some do, and some speak some Russian or Chinese as their herding takes them in all those regions) and so tried to learn that before hand. I learned Kazakh pretty quickly, but got along with my terrible Mongolian and rough Russian at first, with pantomime. You can express a surprising amount through body language and expressions and pointing. I even had a conversation with some older ladies that while I may not have a big chest (they were teasing that I’d not find a man because I’m so skinny) I do have a big hips! That was almost entirely through pantomime and we were all in tears laughing.

But either way, there were lots of moments I just had to trust, not knowing what I was doing or why, and many times I just had to keep my thoughts and intentions to myself.

For sure, I don’t think cheese is the best translation, it is more curd like and either fresh or dried (rock hard) and saved throughout the year and eaten by dipping in tea or other liquids to soften. It is called ‘aaruul’ in Mongolian. When you milk the goats you lightly heat the fresh milk and a film on top is created, you strain the liquid from that thick film(not sure the real English term?) and then place the film (usually a few inches thick) on a flat piece of tin or wood and place it on the roof of the yurt (ger/tent) and let it dry. Depending on when you want to use it that varies the drying time. It is so dry there (landlocked country with almost no humidity) it basically dehydrates. When we moved about in early summer near melt rivers we could not make it dry enough for long term storage due to humidity. It is a pretty simple process and sometimes the dried pieces grow a thin layer of mold and those pieces are considered extra tasty.

I did! Luckily just twice, but not fun. I got a flu of some sort when I was with the arctic nomads, and the women took care of me by burning incense and making me drink a lot of a very bitter herb water mixture. I also had ibuprofen and antibiotic cream and I brought a Garmen inReach in case I needed to reach the outside world. I took the ibuprofen but had a fever, violent sweating and body aches, for about five days. In Mongolia I had the stomach flu and unfortunately it started when we were hours from the yurts (gers) so I had to hop off my horse and moan every time it hit me, hiding behind the horse for privacy because there is not a lot of plant coverage in the steppe. It was a very public spectacle and they segregated me from everyone else by setting up a blanket divider in the yurt and I just ran outside to my own special pit toilet that they dug for me because they didn’t want me using the regular outdoor toilet when I was so sick.

Siberian nomads have (to an outsider) very complex tribal systems of ‘what’ your spiritual body is (your spirit has an earthly embodiment like a reindeer, or fox, or river), and therefore who you can and cannot marry. It is patriarchal so the woman joins the man’s tribe. They move frequently even in winter, so you come across other families a lot, and there are times where you camp with other families, or have festivals where the entire region shows up. Lots of matchmaking at those events.

For the Kazakh people it similar but without the spirit world involvement and it is usually the man who moves to the woman’s family.

No official reason, and entirely personal actually. I just wanted to escape my life at the time, and always dreamed of what life was like in the remote and wild places of the world as a nomadic people- especially as their way of life was starting to disappear. An old friend had told me of his experiences living with nomads in the Peace Corps. When I bugged him enough, he (probably more for fun not thinking I’d ever do it) told me how to find the Kazakhs. I didn’t want to go to change people or follow them around and document them, I just wanted to live. The Siberian reindeer herders were much more cautious of outsiders, and when it eventually became clear I didn’t want to give them anything (medicine, language, religion) I was just folded into the family as an aunt. That took months and there was ceremony about it. The Kazakh of Tavan Bogd are more accustomed to outsiders, and for a long time I had an issue with them assuming I had doctoring abilities. Eventually they just let me be a part of their group without expectations of medicine. People come and go more frequently amongst the Kazakh and some leave to the city or come back, so that was more easy.

Daily life: almost forgot to answer that one! So, it’s very very seasonal for both peoples I was with.

In Siberia it was more gender segregated with very specific roles and taboos. I wake up very early and gather wood and brush for fires, I then usually cooked, put the bedding away, watching kids is communal so I was always had someone’s child in tow, then helped sew clothes and gather food. The key was to always have a fire, and always have tea on! Evenings was more cooking, cleaning, and making beds. Plus seasonal activities regarding reindeer breeding and health. Other duties were moving camp every few weeks, tanning hides, preserving meat, etc.

In Mongolia in was less gender segregated and my daily schedule varied substantially more. Always when I woke up, I kindled the fire and milked the animals. Then made cheese, milk, or something else. In winter you don’t move camp, so you are settled down and have more consistent duties. Animal care, fire making, cooking, cleaning, mending, etc. Lots of entertaining other nomads who come to visit. In summer you move a lot, so it’s animal care, putting up and taking down camp, herding, cooking, collecting animal poop for kindling as there aren’t many trees, and hunting. I was with eagle hunters (using eagles for hunting) and so I was given a juvenile eagle to train, that takes up a lot of the day!

I’m sorry, you’re going to have to be more specific, that’s a big question! What kind of inspiration are you talking about? Are you asking what inspired me to go live with nomadic peoples? Or with different cultures? Live in remote places in general? Inspires me to travel? To love nature?

Valuable thing I learned far from home? It is hard to pinpoint the most valuable, but as corny as it sounds, I learned a sense of self worth and self value that was not externally built. That one I didn’t realize until looking back, but another I realized in the moment was that stubbornness and flexibility have to be balanced. At first I was given way more to do and I thought I was just proving myself or something, but then I realized in was because I just didn’t say no or delegate to others. I was too flexible. But being stubborn and pushing back too hard just resulted in vital relationships becoming strained in a place where I couldn’t afford that. So learning what was actually important, and how to give and take in real life, in real time.

The Dukha? No, I was with a different nomadic peoples in Mongolia, the Kazakhs. We did cross paths at the end of summer though, they are similar in dress and customs from what I could tell, but with different animals and consequently different herding areas.

How connected: in Siberia, very little connection. Maybe once a year the patriarch goes in to a village and trades for goods which then get traded amongst the different families/reindeer herds. Some families have never gone to a village, and others (the minority) go in every season except summer. In the Tavan Bogd (western Mongolia), I would say moderately connected as now almost all the routes of their goat/yak/camel herds cross a small village or at least a trading outpost. So at minimum two times a year the whole family is going to cross paths with a village when the animals and supplies are driven between the summer and winter grounds. Those towns are not big or developed much. They don’t have plumbing, or stores. A few have portable generators for electricity.

Oh wow! That’s a big topic as the two groups of people with whom I stayed were very different. Both were polytheistic and practiced shamanism, though a small subset of Kazakh herders I met in Mongolia were a combination of Muslim/their older beliefs in a very complex blending of the two. I did participate in ceremonies as they are still a part of daily life for both peoples and I was expected to participate (I did, out of respect) and in being there for many changing seasons I was able to witness major ceremonies but had no role in those directly.

A very memorable one amongst the specific group of Kazakh nomads of Mongolia I was with, is was when a visitor (in this case me when I first arrived) comes from afar there is a ritual prayer said for that person and a feast laid out, with horse head and intestines. The visitor (me) sits at the head of the feast. The youngest toddler has their ankles tied with said horse intestines and the people pray and light incense while encouraging the young child to walk to the visitor. The visitor kind of catches/grabs them after a short distance (which I almost didn’t do, and everyone was frantically pantomiming at me). This is considered their first journey and the gods are expected to bless the child with a good nomadic life. I was confused for a long time, until my language skills got better and I eventually asked what that event was.

Love of a place, a way of life, and of a community and peoples, yes. I will always hold those experiences in my heart, I truly love that land. But I was not there for romantic love, and did not go in that direct if that is what you are asking.

Actually, it was one that I’ve never been asked, so kudus to you for more specifics than just ‘what’s it like?’!

Towns (colloquially we call them villages) do elect Mayors! Registered towns elect through ballots and serve terms, and unofficial towns elect through a show of support. To be official your town must be registered with the Alaskan government as a ‘city’. So the town of one you heard about probably isn’t officially on the books and thus doesn’t officially have a mayor. He might have raised his hand to support himself though!