Wild At Heart

MONGOLIA’S nomadic herders, with their deep attachment to the spirit of the land, offer a vanishing glimpse of unparalleled freedom.

- Anna Menta

THERE ARE FEW PLACES LEFT ON EARTH WHERE YOU CAN TRAVEL 600 miles without hitting a McDonald’s. One of those is Mongolia, a country twice the size of Texas, where nomadic herders continue to live as they have for centuries. “There are no fences, no boundaries,” says Frédéric Lagrange, a French photographer who spent 17 years chronicling the seasonal movements of Mongolian cattle and reindeer herders. “You can walk from one end of the country to the other without being stopped. It’s complete freedom.”

The exception is Ulaanbaatar, Mongolia’s capital—currently the most polluted capital city in the world—where roughly 45 percent of the country’s 3 million people live. Mongolia regained its autonomy in 1990, transitioning to a democratic nation after almost 70 years of Soviet rule, and capitalism has exploded in the city. Here, you can find shopping malls, internet cafés and traffic jams.

But just 10 miles away, time stands still. Mongols move fluidly between the two worlds, maintaining their deep attachment to a past that extends back to Genghis Khan, the 13th-century warrior who founded the largest contiguous empire the world has ever known. Like Khan, “they are fierce people,” says Lagrange, whose book, Mongolia, is out in November (Damiani).

And yet, wherever Lagrange went he found warmth and hospitality. “In every ger—or Mongol yurt—there’s a spare bed and a spare meal,” he says. “It’s a way for locals to meet people and get news from the other side of the country. It’s almost mandatory to take others in and help them.” The long, vodka-fueled nights are spent swapping stories and singing songs, many of them extolling the glories of Khan.

LIFE AND LEISURE