Mongolia’s land of
NOMADS, CARAVANS & MIGRATIONS
| 39 | Journey back to the Origin where man meets himself, then gives his watch back to the time passing by... Mongol els desert, Govi Alta誰 province Km 550, Winter 2011
Mongolia’s land of
NOMADS, CARAVANS & MIGRATIONS
| 40 | Inmost rendezvous, where body and soul meet... Here on Tolbo lake Alt. 2000 m, km 2200, Winter 2011
FOREWORD
SPACE AGAINST TIME IN OUR LIVES This is a story which began billions of years ago when, from the immensity of space, came the planets, including eventually our earth. Earth was just one planet, a single entity of gigantic dimensions – limitless and unmeasured because humans had yet to settle upon it. A land of lifeless matter, shared unequally between the light of the sun and the light of the moon. And once the light of the sun and moon married and their energy gave birth to life in this immense cradle that was earth, that life turned matter into magnificence, vastness and simplicity – nature itself. Nature which remains the sole survivor and the only witness of the time when man first wandered on earth. Then, for reasons which historians can best relate, but propelled by power and gain, man started to gather in cities and to divide and limit ethereal space into measured time. In other words, man invented time. And, to create their clans and tribes which would become the societies of today, and in order to possess and to rule, man again divided space. But this time, physical space – by drawing lines across the land that were called frontiers, even though they were often transgressed to build empires. As the strong overcame the weak and the good laboured under the bad, laws were invented to impose duties and to exercise rights, only for these to be usurped by kings and rulers through force and power. The limitations of time and the endless division and subdivision of land into millions of separate holdings were the first cause of mankind’s unhappiness. The second came from the values that man attached to time and to the
ownership of land. This is our inheritance today – liberty constrained by time and freedom reduced by frontiers and by laws. Save for a fortunate few, we have all been born into sedentary society; captured by time, trapped by space and forced to trade both to earn the money to survive. We are born into society where, from our first to our last breath, we are forced to play the game of buying, selling, cheating and lying in order to survive. Time, space and money – three simple words that have forever enslaved mankind. And thus I became a watchmaker to turn man into slaves by setting chains around their wrists. But it is also why, tired of the rules everyone tries to evade, tired of the dishonest game I learned from those set to teach and to lead us; tired of confronting the constant face of deceit, weary of trickery and the cosmetic face of life, I summoned the willpower and the courage to embark on a quest for our origins. A quest for our beginnings, the light and space where time, fences and frontiers do not exist, where men still live a nomadic life, freely sharing space without barriers, living in harmony with nature and abiding by its rules. My quest would have been in vain had I searched in our own societies, where nature, our own origins, have been buried under the layers of a thousand years of lies and the dust of fallen civilisations and empires. After years of search, I have discovered the raw material of life in a world which remains as it was when mankind’s clock first started to turn. So it is my pleasure to offer you a glimpse, a glance, an image, an impression of what might become the reality of your own dreams should you wish to discover Mongolia and should you wish to encounter a unique way of life. Also, perhaps, to understand more about yourself whenever you find the courage, be it in the midst of a desert or on the summit of a mountain, to uncover your real, sincere inner self. I wish you a journey of wonder to the sources of your own origins where a single, unique space once was, and still is. From somewhere in space... Marc, 2006 7
| 01 | Above Gers sheltered by Monh Saridag mountain Alt. 3491 m - and its melting glacier Bordering Siberia, near Horoo, Hovsgol far North km 1078, June 2007
| 02 | Opposite page, top Lone horse rider, near Hahn Along the shore of lake Hovsgol North km 950, June 2007
| 03 | Opposite page, bottom left Solitary biker chased by the eye of a storm on the endless steppe of Tumen Olzyt Dornod province km 1500, June 2009
| 04 | Opposite page, bottom right Rendezvous in space Steppe of Uushig, Dornod province km 950, June 2009
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| 05 | Shepherdess with new born lambs, on the shores of the frozen lake Hyargas where temperatures drop to minus 50 Uvs province km 940, March 2011
Shepherdess of your flock and of eternity, will you be the heiress of our humanity; the guidance of our truth and of those simple values from the past which today, in the city, are scorned by our society? Pastourelle des troupeaux et de l’éternité Seriez-vous l’héritière de notre humanité, La gardienne des valeurs, vraies et simples du passé Qu’aujourd’hui, à la ville, méprisent les sociétés ?
| 06 | Opposite page, top Kazakh nomads in conversation as they search for lost livestock Upper Hovd river on the way to Hoton nuur, Bayan Ulgiy km 1600, March 2011
| 09 | BELOW Kazakh shepherd and his flock, high in the Alta誰 Near Buyant, Bayan Ulgiy km 1950, March 2011
| 07 | Opposite page, bottom At the foot of the Zogsoo black mountain whose summit stands out from a desert of sand, meet the Sayir, the Setert and the Zavkhan rivers that flow to Ayrag and Hyargas salty lakes. This is where flocks of horses, camels, sheeps and waves of migrating birds converge when the ice melt in April. A lost sanctuary where nature rules and nomads preserve the land. Uvs province km 440, March 2012
| 08 | above Along the river and the sand dunes of the Bohr desert Zavkhan a誰mak km 100, Winter 2012
| 10 | ABOVE Caravan about to cross the Setert river Close to Ayrag lake, Uvs province km 390, Winter 2012
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| 11 | Opposite page, top Mountain range of Tavantolgoy Mongol Els desert, Zavkhan a誰mak km 340, Winter 2012
| 12 | Opposite page, bottom Leaders of caravans of the mongol deserts Govi Alta誰 province Winter 2012
| 13 | ABOVE Caravan of yaks of a Dharkaat family passing over the Olyin mountain - Alt. 2000 m - during their spring migration North of Hovsgol, near Ulaan Uul km 1700, March 2007
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| 14 | top left Solitary wolf of Tartary, ruler of the eastern steppe Met at Zurhyin Tsagaan valley, Dornod a誰mak km 1210, June 2009
| 17 | bottom right Pastoral scene, in the upper section of the Hovd river, on the way to lake Hoton Bayan Ulgiy km 1800, March 2011
| 15 | BOTTOM LEFT Dzeren gazelles racing the steppe of Shorootyn Dornod a誰mak km 1758, Summer 2009
| 18 | OPPOSITE PAGE TOP Shepherdess leading her goats to the Zaram oasis Zarmagyin desert, part of Southern Gobi km 1300, early May 2006
| 16 | top right A caravan of hunters carrying their eagles, near the Tsengel mountain range Bayan Ulgiy km 1700, March 2011
| 19 | OPPOSITE PAGE BOTTOM The ger, here nested in the heart of a velvet tapestry High in the Alta誰, on the way to Duut km 2310, 2006 Gobi Odyssey
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Away from societies, free from its servitudes, Mankind was wandering, in total liberty, happy in solitude. Loin de la société, franc de ses servitudes, L’homme s’allait libre, heureux, au fond des solitudes.
| 20 | Wonderful canvas of a lone rider brushed by nature or where man is just a reflexion of his environment Near Karakorum, at the foot of the Khangaï range, Arkhangaï province km 650, March 2007
| 21 | Spring migration and crossing the Tsagaan aral island trapped in between the arms of the frozen Zavkhan river Sulin Adag sandy desert km 300, Winter 2012
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Since the origins of mankind, the human spirit, so vast in its nature, but shrunken by the limits of theory, has never understood why contentment on earth has remained a mystery which reveals itself only rarely to mortals who seek it vainly in the supernatural and unearthly. When all that is necessary is to recognise that we only need to live; the only choice in life, the only path to follow. L’intelligence humaine, si grande par son esprit, Cependant rétrécie aux bornes des théories, N’a jamais su pourquoi le bonheur sur la terre, Depuis que l’homme y vint, est resté ce mystère Où il ne se révèle que rarement aux mortels Qui le cherchent vainement dans le surnaturel. Pourtant il eut suffit de se dire qu’il faut vivre, Le seul choix dans la vie, le seul chemin à suivre.
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| 22 | left Crossing the huge Silver Sayr river Nearby Ayrag lake, Uvs province km 410, Winter 2012
| 23 | below Flying over the Hovsgol lake, at minus 30째C, where the ice shell is as thick as a 1 m brick km 0, February 2012
| 24 | Opposite page, top Training at the school of life along the Tsoohor lake Dzungaria desert, far western Gobi km 2235, March 2011
| 25 | Opposite page, bottom Ducks and swans in their autumn migration Border of Siberia, North of Hovsgol province km 1600, October 2005
| 26 | top left In search of the wolves Along the Hog river, near Ivedtogol North of Hovsgol province km 1500, Winter 2007
| 27 | bottom left In the depth of winter a golden eagle and his Kazakh master waiting for preys to come out while a beater on horse scours the area In the Tsengel Hayrrhan mountains Bayan Ulgiy km 400, January 2005
| 28 | top right After the harsh Winter spent close by a mountain shelter, the long journey to Spring; a family of Zakchen ethnic group on the way to one of the Botgon Hotol valleys In the mountain area between Most and Manhan, Hovd province km 2300, Spring 2011
| 29 | bottom right River crossing along the Sulin Adag desert, Uvs province km 390, Winter 2012 25
| 30 | left Kazakh sheperds and their flock migrating to the lake Hurgan, high on the AltaĂŻ plateau Climbing from the Hovd river to pass over the Shovh Silver mountain - Alt. 3030 m km 1900, March 2011
| 31 | above Early morning flight invasion of cormorans over lake Buyir; after a day spent to feast on whichever fish they find, they’ll return at dusk the same way to their nest... to come back every day the same way until the lake has dried up of its fishes In Dornod province, where Eastern Tartary meets with the borders of China Manchuria and Siberia km 1359, June 2009
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| 32 | Right Morning light on the Huysiyn desert Govi Alta誰 km 290, Winter 2012
| 33 | Below Caravan lost on a sea of sand dunes Mongol Els desert, somewhere along the border between Zavkhan and Govi Alta誰 provinces km 150-200, March 2012
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| 36 | left, top Solitary man migrating to the Spring Near Tariat, Arkangha誰 province km 800, March 2007
| 37 | left, bottom A caravan of Kazakh hunters moving from Sagsay to Buyant Bayan Ulgiy km 1780, March 2011
| 34 | Opposite page, top The postman of the desert Uvs province km 450, Winter 2012
| 35 | Opposite page, bottom Fox, sable, marten, rabbit, wolf, but rarely adult, hunting by golden eagles trained by their Kazakh masters In the mountains of Ulaanhus, Bayan Ulgiy km 1750, March 2011
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ABOUT MARC PROGIN Marc Progin is a Swiss adventurer often travelling in space since he retired from time and being a watchmaker. Struck by the light and the beauty of the deserts he then became a photographer to evidence his journeys, stories and poetry. But it is from his physical performance the artistic one is generated. A very long distance trail-runner he is tough enough to power himself and his bike that he uses as a mean of transportation for off-road journeys and his mind travelling. He designs his own maps, navigates with the sun, the stars and a compass in all the 4 seasons, trading his bike for hiking boots and camels when tackling ice, snow, blizzard and temperature of minus 40 during his winter trips.
| 41 | A solitary biker in search of his lost soul From the 3500 km Gobi Odyssey km 900, May 2006
He writes chronicles, gives conferences to school kids and adults with stunning slide shows. Marc’s collection tops 15,000 images and more than 20,000 km of bike and on foot odysseys across the land of Mongolia. Living in Hong Kong for the last 35 years, he introduced the natural world of Mongolia in 2006 by staging his exhibition “Vastness, Magnificence and Simplicity� at the H.K. FCC. His urban landscape and city life work will be on another show in May 2013 in Sham Shui Po, at the Mei Ho House. In all Marc gives us a beautiful testimony of what his heart sees in nature and human beings, and an honest message through his eye of the nomadic life reality.
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| 01 |
Nomads existing in an ocean of grass, of silence, of time, of acts and no words – your simple and pure soul cannot be diminished by the slow erosion of civilisation. Nomades survivant dans des océans d’herbes, Du silence et du temps, d’actes, non pas de verbes, La civilisation, malgré sa lente usure, N’aura pu débaucher votre âme simple et pure.
| 02 |
Where nature awaits the enlightenment of man and his rediscovery of the space of the lands of his origins. Où la nature attend que l’homme s’illumine Et retrouve les espaces de la terre d’origine
| 03 |
As naked as though it had just left the universe’s womb, the earth has remained unspoiled, time has returned to nature, there, removed from civilization, the nomad rejoins the fourth dimension. Où nue comme en sortant du ventre de l’univers, La terre est restée vierge, le temps s’est mis au vert, C’est là que détaché des civilisations, Le nomade rejoint la quatrième dimension.
| 04 |
Is it true that you pray that the Almighty answers, when you demand that all be well with the earth, and that against all expectation you receive only acid soot, when our wishes should be met by bountiful rain? Est-ce vrai que vous priez que le Haut vous réponde Lorsque vous exigez que la terre tourne ronde, Et que contre toute attente vous recevez des suies, Quand nos souhaits s’exaucent par d’heureuses et belles pluies ?
| 06 |
In the heart of the Altaï mountains, the Kazakhs live in humility under their roof of a thousand years, the stars ; a timeless shelter where, faithful to their traditions, as host and servant they welcome the traveller. Au coeur des monts Altaï vivent humbles les Kazakhs, Sous les étoiles, leurs millénaire bivouac; Une auberge du temps qu’en hôte et serviteur, Fidèles aux traditions ils ouvrent aux voyageurs.
| 07 |
Rather than exists on hopes and illusions, as do the urban throngs whose only horizon is walls, where, by the sorcery of words, grow only vain promises and weeds; far better to survive between Earth and Heaven on the dust of rainbows of an artificial world, we, nomads, live from the cord which ties us to nature, to the earth, to the universe and to their true values. Plutôt que subsister d’espoir et d’illusions Comme tant d’autres dans les villes qui n’ont pour horizon Que des murs d’où ne poussent, par la magie du verbe,
Que de vaines promesses et de la mauvaise herbe; Et bien mieux que survivre des poudres d’arc en ciel D’un monde artificiel... de la terre jusqu’au ciel, Nous vivons du cordon qui nous lie à la terre, La nature, l’univers et à leurs vraies valeurs. | 08 |
Oscillating across the horizon of an ocean of sands, whose swell was unfolding interminable waves, a caravan was continuing its thousand year journey through time and space. Affleurant l’horizon d’un océan de sables Dont la houle déroulait des vagues interminables, Une caravane s’allait, millénaire flânerie, Dans les espaces du temps et de la Tartarie.
| 09 |
It is here, where he was born, like his ancestors, where nothing counts except the simple happiness of being, that nature safeguards the good, free, true man, indifferent to time which runs and passes by... elsewhere. C’est là où il naquit, ainsi que ses ancêtres, Où rien d’autre ne compte que le simple bonheur d’être, Que la nature préserve l’homme bon, libre et meilleur, Indifférent au temps qui court et passe… ailleurs.
| 10 |
In exile at the end of the end of the earth, where the lines of horizons disappear into oblivion, is to be found a solitude in an ocean of landscape from where slow caravans emerge, a rising from a mirage of dunes and the depths of time. Là-bas où en exil, au bout d’un bout du monde, Les lignes d’horizons fuient, dans l’oubli se confondent, Il est des solitudes, sur des terres océanes, D’où émergent parfois de lentes caravanes, Qu’on croit ainsi sortir, mirage d’un instant, De dunes et de la houle des profondeurs du temps.
| 11 |
A land where neither paradise nor apple is to be found, only nature’s space where true men are born free. Une terre où il n’existe...ni paradis, ni pomme, Qu’un espace naturel où naissent libres de vrais hommes
| 12 |
Where all is beauty, in its original form, man in harmony with his cousin, nature, dresses simply in his finest wear as the seasons pass, each imitating the other’s customs. Où tout n’est que beauté, à l’état d’origine, L’homme en symbiose avec la nature cousine, Au gré des saisons passe, imitant ses coutumes, S’habillant simplement de ses plus beaux costumes.
| 13 |
Preparing for life implies to be close to nature, to inhale and to love the air, the wind and the scent of the Earth. It is, as a child,
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to be nurtured by its vastness, magnificence and simplicity, thus to grow in faith while respecting it. Apprendre à vivre c’est dans la nature humer, L’air, le vent et l’odeur de la terre et l’aimer. C’est enfant s’y nourrir, du beau, du simple et grand, Ainsi grandir en foi toujours en l’honorant. | 14 |
Heard from the wolf... There was a good time when the human brains, struck by the light, turned into pure living grey matter! Ordinary primates then regroup to live a better life in cities and in societies. But ever since, as much as their mind broaden and their intellect enlightened, as much their soul gradually darkened... Histoire de loup... Il fut un temps heureux quand le cerveau humain devint matière pensante irradié de lumière. C’était au temps où les primates se regroupèrent pour vivre en société. Mais curieusement depuis, autant leur pensée grandit, d’autant leur âme noircit.
| 15 |
This is where from nothing but the Earth, and out of which all emerges and ultimately all returns, the nomads and the wildlife share the space to live in harmony. Animaux*, végétaux, c’est ici qu’en symbiose, Vous vivez libres et frères, de rien, ce toute chose Qu’est la terre, votre mère, nourricière, et le ventre, De la vie, de la mort, d’où tout sort, où tout rentre. *dont l’homme fait partie
| 16 |
In a grandiose workshop, where nature’s secret alchemy turns stone to gold and nothingness to everything. Dans l’alchimie secrète d’un atelier grandiose, Où la pierre devient or et le rien toute chose.
| 17 |
They are born as shepherds and nomads with no roots other their own land. Guardians of their flocks, of an immense emptiness, they live from life itself. They live from that which a benevolent and unrestrained nature has placed in their hands to endure at their hunger and in their hearts to do good. Ils naquirent hommes-pasteurs et nomades sans racines autre que celles qui est leur terre d’origine. Gardiens des troupeaux, de l’immensité vide, ils vivent de la vie, de celle que la nature si favorablement et sans commune mesure a mise dans leurs mains pour survivre à leur faim, ainsi que dans leur coeur pour dispenser le bien.
| 18 |
A Nomad, she perpetuates by the lines from her family, to the earth, to her ancestors, to time immemorial, the simplicity of humanity and nature, without harming... that which our futuristic science pushes to self-destruction.
Nomade, elle perpétue, par ses liens familiaux, A la terre, aux ancêtres, aux temps immémoriaux, La simple humanité, la nature, sans leur nuire... Que nos sciences futuristes poussent à s’entre-détruire. | 19 |
There is on earth but one single, unique space where the human, the animal and nature live and pass on forming a single and simple family whose harmony questions the folly of our plodding decadence. Il est sur cette terre un seul, unique, espace Où l’humain, l’animal, la nature vivent et passent Formant une seule et simple famille dont l’harmonie Questionne la déraison de notre lente agonie.
| 22 |
They see so many horizons, dawns and dusks, and drink so much from the spring of light that in them burns, a flame fueled by faith and courage, which will carry them serenely on their last journey. Ils voient tant d’horizons, d’aubes, de crépuscules, Et boivent tant de lumière à leurs sources, qu’en eux brûlent Des flammes dont les ardeurs sont la foi, le courage Qui les emmènent sereins jusqu’au dernier voyage.
| 23 |
Fortunate nomads who, in time and space, travelling with a free soul and like a passing star, pass on without any trace straying across the cosmos, free from humanity... free from the dyingroom and the grave. Heureux nomades qui, dans le temps et l’espace, Voyagent l’âme libre, et comme un astre passe, S’en vont sans laisser trace errer dans le cosmos, Loin de l’humanité... des mouroirs et des fosses.
| 24 |
Whilst you, with your cult-worship, raise your idols and celebrities to the rank of Gods, we, children of a different school, offer our respect and deepest love to our parents and to the earth, our mother. Tandis que par le culte vous élevez des idoles, Des stars au rang de dieux... enfants d’une autre école, Nous rendons le respect, par un amour sincère À nos parents ainsi qu’à la terre, notre mère.
| 25 |
Migration... Life is a circular journey on earth, not a line in the space of time; time is as limitless as the dream of man is endless and thus leads nowhere. Migration La vie est un voyage circulaire sur la terre et non pas linéaire
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| 42 | Full moon rise over the steppe and the lake of Bayandun Dornod a誰mak, eastern Tartary km 2200, Summer 2009
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dans les espaces du temps, lequel sans une limite rejoint le rêve de l’homme qui va à l’infini et ne mène donc à rien... | 26 |
Facing a vastness which man seeks to define, even though it has evolved in this way by pure chance; which man would define in order to control, measure, quantify, exploit and harvest it... why not admit the insignificance of the human being when his average height scarcely exceeds... metre? A metre and with fingers to count only to ten, beyond which man scarcely goes save by calculation... Devant l’immensité que l’homme voudrait précise Alors qu’elle n’évolue qu’au hasard de sa guise; Précise pour contrôler, mesurer, quantifier, Pour la valoriser et la faire fructifier... Comment ne pas admettre l’insignifiance de l’être Quand sa taille en moyenne ne dépasse guère le... mètre ? Un mètre et que des doigts pour compter jusqu’à dix, N’allant guère au-delà que par calculatrice...
| 27 |
Hunting with a golden eagle... as weapon, a kazakh tradition dating back several centuries. La chasse avec un aigle royal plutôt qu’une arme à feu, une tradition kazakh datant de plusieurs siècles.
| 28 |
... Nomads on Earth where we are of passage, we possess and carry nothing but luggages, leaving only traces when going to the past that nature, as friend, sees to erase... ... Nomades sur la terre où nous sommes de passage, Nous ne possédons rien... d’autres que des bagages, Ne laissant qu’une trace en allant au passé Que la nature amie se charge d’effacer...
| 29 |
With no other needs than to live and to eat, the Nomad, travelling light, is the example and symbol of true freedom; the proof that one can live from simplicity. Sans autres besoins que ceux de vivre et de manger, Le nomade n’est-il pas, en voyageant léger, L’exemple et le symbole de la vraie liberté, La preuve que l’on peut vivre de la simplicité ?
| 30 |
Spring transhumance. Migration printanière.
| 31 |
Fortunate are free men who refuse to be harnessed by society, wandering savage and unbridled. Wandering the land, like clouds or the wind, or as birds suspended in the air. Wandering without stopping or coming to earth, in a world which every man would wish to travel because it has no barriers, no
frontiers. But man lives on earth and cruel reality brings to ground that which can only be reached in a dream. Heureux les hommes libres refusant le dressage Des sociétés, s’allant sans licol et sauvages, Tels les nuages, les vents, en parcourant la terre, Ou comme des oiseaux en suspension dans l’air, Sans jamais s’arrêter, ni jamais redescendre, De ce monde dont chacun des humains voudrait dépendre, Qu’on aime à voyager car il est sans barrière, Celui dont on franchit chaque jour les frontières, Mais qu’hélas le réel toujours cruel achève Car il se vit sur terre et ne s’atteint qu’en rêve. | 32 |
When a man, undermined by uncertainties, is lost in the desert and the solitude of his heart, the master of his fate and his only hope, is the one who lives in him, the only one he can trust. Quand l’homme est perdu dans les grandes solitudes, De son coeur, des déserts, rongé d’incertitudes, Un seul maître est puissant à lui donner l’espoir, L’être qui vit en lui, l’unique qu’il peut croire.
| 33 |
Glory is nothing else than the reflection of a gleaming light that esteem arouse in someone else’s eyes; its only destiny, was it triumphant in the image of the stars. La gloire n’est qu’un reflet de la lumière qui luit, Par sentiments d’estime, dans les regards d’autrui. Elle n’a pour seul destin, fut-elle triomphale, À l’image de nos astres, que des lendemains pâles.
| 34 |
You live in a city, we in the desert. In the school of life, we are content, you bitter; we have no cars, no customs without morals, you have no horses, no pastoral morals. Vous vivez dans les villes et nous dans les déserts, À l’école de la vie, nous joyeux, vous amers; Nous n’avons pas d’autos, pas de moeurs sans morale, Et vous pas de chevaux, pas de moeurs pastorales.
| 35 |
Where the fruit of hunting, fishing and picking offered by nature feed the nomads ever since man came upon Earth, without our science, our o.g.m. seeds and without our ignorance. Où le fruit de la chasse, la pêche et la cueillette, Grâce de la nature, de l’homme emplit l’assiette, Depuis des millénaires, toujours en abondance, Sans nos sciences, nos semences et sans nos ignorances.
| 36 |
Honesty... Far from our earth where, with no horizon, our spirits are formed to live from illusions, nature bends them to a reality. A
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truth which can never deceive them. Honnêteté... Loin de notre univers où, privés d’horizon, Nos esprits sont formés pour vivre d’illusions, La nature les plie à la réalité Qui jamais ne les trompe étant la vérité. | 37 |
The Altaï mountain range is huge lair where wolves, in the depth of Winter, prey on the nomads’ livestock. They decimate so many sheeps, goats, sometimes horses and even camels, that in turn, the nomads, with their golden eagles, comb the land for the elusive goal to catch one of the thousands whose cleverness save them from men. L’Altaï mongol est un immense repaire à ciel ouvert où les loups, au plus froid de l’hiver, attaquent en permanence le bétail des nomades. Le carnage des moutons, des chèvres, parfois des chevaux et même des chameaux est si important qu’à leur tour les nomades, avec leurs aigles royaux, battent les montagnes dans l’espoir...illusoire d’attraper un loup parmi les milliers qui trop malins, restent insaisissables.
| 38 |
They are born just as they pass, from dust to nothingness, humble and tiny travellers covering the vastness. Their walls are the space, their windows the horizon coloured by the weather and the four seasons. Ils naissent comme ils passent, de rien jusqu’au néant, Voyageurs humbles, infimes, parcourant le géant; Leurs murs sont les espaces, leurs fenêtres l’horizon, À la couleur du temps et des quatre saisons.
| 39 |
When travelling back in time... it was snowing dust from ruins of other worlds, just as the cosmos dismisses those of dead planets; dust of all kinds, from extinct civilizations and from constellations’ fallen stars. En remontant le temps... Il neigeait des poussières de ruines d’autres mondes, Comme celles de planètes mortes dont le cosmos s’émonde; Des poussières de toutes sortes, de civilisations Et celles d’étoiles éteintes de leur constellation.
| 40 |
You will understand why, often ill at ease and exiled in the city, I leave it behind to go back to my origins, to live from nothing, by reaching for the purity of wintery space where my soul cleanses itself through endurance and distance. Without a healthy way of life there can be no genuine ecology... Vous comprendrez pourquoi, mal à l’aise dans les villes, Il m’arrive maintes fois, d’un sentiment d’exil, De les quitter pour vivre de rien, d’original, En gagnant la pureté de l’espace hivernal,
Où mon coeur, loin de l’homme, usant de l’endurance, Se purifie tout en prenant de la distance. Il n’y a pas d’écologie honnête Sans une hygiène de vie parfaite... | 41 |
Of what else should I think of when alone in the universe I move on and you are 7 billions on Earth ? - Nothing is counted to me by the time passing by where its only a motionless space and a moment while... all is counted to you by the lack of time, of food, of space that men of good faith, culprits, has planned for you when, agents of evil they associated time with money... A quoi d’autre penserai-je, quand seul dans l’univers J’avance et que vous êtes...7 milliards sur la terre ? - Que rien ne m’est compté par l’écoulement du temps, Là où il n’est qu’espace inerte et qu’un moment, Qui jamais ne s’arrête de grandir dans sa fosse Que creuse à l’infini l’expansion du cosmos, Quand tout vous est compté par manque inévitable De temps, de vivres, d’espace qu’ont planifiés, coupables, Des hommes, pourtant de bien... qui se rendirent agents Du mal en associant le temps avec l’argent.
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| 43 | Warm-hearted shepherdess and a mother of three of the Zakchen ethnic group Met near Mandah, Bayan Ulgiy km 352, June 2008 44
| 44 | Nomad of the Dhukha ethnic group that survives in the eastern Tayga forests of the Sayan mountains; Master of ceremonies and assistant to the late shaman Suyin Along the border with Touva, Hovsgol km 1600+, Autumn 2005
Photography & texts Translation to English Graphic design & layout Sponsors
Marc Progin Marc Progin Peter William Greenwood Latitude 22N Swiss Consulate of Hong Kong Parenthèses, the French Bookshop in Hong Kong AVOK, Athletic Veteran Association Lycée Français International de Hong Kong Special thanks to Baterdene who was instrumental to the success of those Odysseys and to Madeline for her unlimited patience. © 2013 Marc Progin All rights reserved No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner without written permisson from Marc Progin.
| 45 | Writing the chronicles “The slow journey to death at minus 40ºC” High in the Altaï km 400+, Winter 2005
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| 38 | Coming out of nowhere a caravan migrating somewhere else Across the deserts of Western Mongolia 48 1150, Winter 2011 km