The Three Games of Men - Part II

I was up at 5.00am the next morning to head out to the horse racing. Everything in Mongolia has quite a logical approach to it, though sometimes that’s where the thought process stops. There is not often consideration in terms of long term planning and effects, risk assessment or in some cases, morals. Children are smaller and lighter, and therefore the best choice as jockeys. They start at the age of seven, though I did hear that there has been talk of legally increasing the minimum age to nine.

By 7.00am we had some good seats in the grand stand. It was a pretty spectacular view from afar. Empty desert and mountains for miles with a huge event plonked in the middle. A multitude of gers, tents and cars were spread out in the dust and dirt with the odd WC, fridge (unplugged) and pool table.

Tiny jockeys bobbed out one by one on horseback and a couple of hundred gathered before commencing the 25km walk over the hills where they would find the starting line. They would then race back in a straight line followed by a bunch of cars filled with owners, trainers, media and VIPs before crossing the finish line where we sat.

We waited 3.5 hours. In that time the crowds increased to what I can only guess were tens of thousands. As far as the eye could see, were heads popping through the dust. Only then did it make sense as to why hundreds of police had lined the track at 7.00am when there were only a couple of hundred people around. We were cold and hungry but couldn’t move. I had three people sit on me one by one and shake around enough to push their butts into my seat until my friend had to start defending my lap. We bought some ice cream for breakfast only to discover it was curd flavour… so we gave them away and shared the one chocolate ice cream between three of us. The army entertained us with tactics in parachuting, show jumping and circus tricks atop of horses until we finally saw the dust start to kick up in the distance.

Everyone jumped on chairs, waving, screaming and crying as the first horse crossed the finish line with jockey still intact, whipping away. There wasn’t much interest after that and a mass exodus commenced. I shoved my way through the people and the dust trying to keep sight of my friends and somehow amongst all that space still nearly managed to get wiped out by the winning horse as it came bolting through the crowds being chased by Mongolians trying to get a touch of that lucky winning horse sweat.

It was only 11.00am! Still time for more excitement. I spent the rest of the day planning and packing for my Adventuring with Batman.