Way out West at Eagle Fest - Part II
- Kerry Thompson
- Dec 14, 2015
- 6 min read

Introducing the competitors
After numerous stops to take a multitude of failed jump shot photos and selfies with camels, we arrived in Bayan-Ulgii at the new monastery and lookout, recently built to celebrate 75 years of friendship between the Mongolian Kazakhs and the Chinese, near the Western border.

View from the lookout
In true Mongolian fashion, the lookout wasn’t quite finished by its opening date and I watched as a women climbed over the balcony and balanced precariously on a wooden plank whilst she finished plastering the memorial plaque in the intense cold winds. The site provided some beautiful views of the city and quite a juxtaposition between old and new areas of living – sometimes we felt like we were in the Middle East. The small, mudbrick homes are something that many Mongolians back in Ulaanbaatar didn’t even know existed and though they look old and worn on the outside, the brilliant colours of the Kazakh carpets, feathers, furs and personal items decorated throughout the inside make them very warm and homely.

Mudbrick homes and gers
Continuing the celebrations of the 75 year anniversary, we (along with everyone else in town) squashed into a packed concert hall to see a special performance from the visiting Chinese-Kazakhs. It was interesting to notice the similarities and differences between cultures in costumes, instruments, singing and dancing, the further you move west.

The next morning was the big day – we were off to the Eagle Festival! We loaded up the vans and shipped off to the countryside. Though there was much hype, we weren’t exactly sure what the eagle festival entailed, but were pleasantly surprised by the range of entertainment you wouldn’t be likely to see at a country fair in Australia. Eagle calling, catching prey, goat wrestling, camel racing and something that involved wives whipping their husbands from horseback, had everyone’s adrenaline pumping.

The best part was the lack of seats, lines, fences, or rules of any kind. If you got hit in the head by a headless goat carcass getting fought over, that was your own fault. If you wanted to climb up a mountain and sit next to an eagle resting on its camel’s hump, no one was going to stop you. If you wanted to ride your horse over to the ref’s table and slog him for being corrupt and changing the rules to help his friends… well actually you were going to get in trouble for that. In fact you were going to get chased by a bunch of elders on horseback in full traditional dress carrying eagles, and you were going to lose all your power when they pulled you off your horse and made you use your feet like a regular person.

Bluey taking a break
We named him Bluey, and he was our favourite competitor. He had a twinkle in his eye, and he was bad ass.
Goat wrestling involved throwing a dead (headless) goat into the middle of the playing field. Two competitors approach on horseback and both try to pick up the goat from their saddle. Whoever gets it first has the advantage, as they can wander off and get a good grip. The opponent then has to chase them and try to grab and back legs of the goat. Playing tug of war with a goat usually ends in each competitor wrapping their legs around their horses waist whilst they hang sideways from the horse getting dragged back and forth by their opponent. Yet somehow they still manage to direct the horse. Whoever gets the goat, has to race back to the centre and drop it on the ground for victory.

Goat wrestling in action


When the first wrestle broke through the crowd and took off up the side of a mountain we kind of stood there and waited for them to bring the game back to where we could see it. Then we realised we could do whatever we wanted! So we ran after them. The goat wresting went on for hours and was so exhilarating, not only trying not to get hit by the competitors, but when they took off in your direction, hundreds of men on horseback watching the competition came stampeding toward you to follow so you had to run for your life! It was so much fun.

Watching the eagles was much more serene, with them launching from the mountain top and following the call of their owner on the ground. The second day they brought in dead rabbits and foxes for them to chase. Watching to see how obedient some of the eagles were and how well they worked with their owner was really rewarding, but when the wind picked up and the eagles couldn’t hear the call, it was just as fun watching the owner curse the eagle as it flew overhead and then decided to go off and do its own thing. Or worse, hone in on its prey like a champion and then let everyone down at the last minute when it would just land a metre away and potter around admiring the view.

That evening we stayed with another family, all together in a ger where we shared food, drinks and music, and the head of the family serenaded us with Kazakh songs on the dombra, an instrument of similar style to the lute.

When we entered the ger, we found the family cutting up what we can only assume used to be one of their sheep, with body parts on trays all over the ger, entrails hanging from a structural pole of the ger, and the head sitting near the front door. Come bed time, we squeezed together in an even smaller space than the first night, and after a warm night’s sleep we awoke early, sleepily trying to get dressed in our sleeping bags and shower with Wet Wipes, when all of a sudden there was a scream. Whilst packing up, one of the girls had discovered a huge bucket of raw meat, bones and offal under the table next to which she’d lied her head all night. Needless to say the rest of the trip entailed thorough searches of different gers for animal parts before setting up camp.

Our find
Day two of Eagle Festival greeted us with a new sight as we rolled in and were greeted by a bunch of camels wear flash looking saddles and hump warmers. The crowd cleared a bit of a path and the riders (some just children) rode their camels full throttle up and down the dirt track in the competitive camel race until there was an ultimate prang resulting in some camel rolling. Amazingly men, children and camel came away unscathed.


Camels
We spent the morning sitting atop the mountain in the sunshine with all the eagles, watching them fly down to their owners and chasing their prey, before a lunch of dumpling soup and tsuivan (thick fried noodles with mutton) called us down.


The Chinese-Kazakh performers stopped by for a visit and competitors gathered around on horseback, waving their eagles in the air in a commotion of flapping and cheering to show appreciation for the lady singers.


By afternoon, the final round of goat wrestling had ensued, with Bluey going out in the first round, much to our disappointment. We found a new favourite. His name was Blackey. Blackey put up a good fight and came second, but not before more disagreements and drama, with someone driving their car straight through the middle of the audience, mid goat wrestle, resulting in riders surrounding the car and whipping it until they dragged the driver out and dealt with him.

Blackey wins another round
Daggy got a call from the police to inform us that unfortunately our hosts had been a little greedy by letting us camp with them, as they already had guests in a ger down the road, and had broken a local treaty by taking in too many tourists at one time. It was 5.00pm, freezing and we were homeless.
Again in true Mongolian fashion, the problem was miraculously solved in no time, when Daggy tapped fearsome goat fighter Bluey on the shoulder and asked him if we could all stay at his place! Of course he obliged. He got his Dad and his brother to take his horse home and we stuffed him into our van and fed him beer from sliced up plastic bottles, which we cut with my new authentic reindeer antler knife, until he told us (through Kazakh-English translation) all the town gossip on goat wrestling, the competitors, and why he took a swing at the ref.

Winning Eagle
To be continued…
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