It is hard to describe the vastness of the Mongolian countryside.  Nothing provides perspective; the valleys sprawl for miles, the mountains grow into the horizon in the distance, the plains betray the curvature of the earth.  The land’s vastness is only compounded by the sky; by day the clear blue reflects the land’s width and by night the stars reflect the land’s depth.  Human presence on the land leaves little impression on nature, and unlike cities which dominate the natural landscape, the few gers, round white spots against the steppe, emphasize nature’s greatness.
Those gers, however, reveal man’s ability to live lightly on the land, and I think these nomadic people’s relationship with the land is what makes the steppe so easily romanticized.  Throughout history, man’s relationship with nature has centered around the environment.  We moved with the seasons, with the pasture.  In the modern world, that relationship has shifted to center on humans as we have exploited and extracted more and more from the environment around us.  We have cut down mountains, overturned plains, manipulated plants and animals.  As we shift this relationship from its historical focus, I think that we industrialists yearn for past ways of life at some level.  Mongolia’s nomadic herders have been slow to shift their relationship with the land- they have done what we did not- and I think that the modern world is jealous.  I know that I am.
Nomadic herders still leave their mark on the environment, and with each year, they embrace more and more aspects of modernization and globalization.  Herds of animals graze the land, people litter and burn plastic, and today, cars and motorcycles carve ribbons of roads into the steppe.  But, they eat the foods they grow, or that their neighbors grow, with the exception of sugar, oil, rice, and flour.  They are expert reusers- my mom used the ribbon I tied a present with as a belt to tie her deel, and then it became a toy for a cousin.  They generate little trash and besides gasoline to fuel motorcycles (that get 100km per liter) use renewable energies to heat their gers and power their few electronics.  Dried cow poop fuels the stove that feeds them and warms them, and solar energy charges reuseable batteries that are channeled into televisions and cell phones.
I think that humankind is filled with greatness; we are powerful beyond measure.  We have bent the world to our will.  But we have also abused the earth that has enabled our great civilizations and societies, and we know it.  We know that soon, if not already, we will face the consequences of our heavy foot prints.  Mongolia’s nomadic herder’s of life is harder and quieter than the modern world’s, but it is more sustainable and long lasting. It has already proven the test of thousands of years, while the modern world’s way of living has only proven itself against hundreds of years.  They have manifested their greatness in a way that does not exploit their relationship with the earth, but rather respects it.