Nomads have a way of getting under your skin, well they have got under mine. Aspects of their lives fascinate me and point me to God.

Living in tents in the big landscape of steppe and desert, under a domed sky, their souls seem to possess a fluidity that requires no permanent, settled home. Like rod and staff, the beauty and gritty harshness of the land keeps them in step with the seasons. On the cusp of each, when the weather edges towards change, nomads move to the next place, leaving behind them fewer traces of their presence than we who live in settled homes. Travelling light, they carry their lives and traditions with them.

Historically, they have been epic story tellers. In years gone by storytellers used to travel from ger to ger telling tales to all who would listen. Sadly, these storytellers no longer exist in the same way as they once did, although everyone still loves to hear a parent or grandparent tell tales of life on the steppe or a brave man defeating an arch enemy.

Remembrance of the old stories anchors nomads to their place as they live with nature. It used to be that they did not try to change or crush their environment, but progress has enlightened people to the value of the resources that lie beneath their feet.

Mongolian nomads still possess that essential sense of freedom and curiosity which keeps them reaching forward and pushing man-made boundaries to embrace the unfamiliar. Adaptable, they are proudly independent and yet mutually dependent on one another.

Living in wild, remote locations, I’ve heard the Mongolians call themselves the people of felt walls as they live without high fences or secure gates to protect them. Largely, they dwell secure, facing dangers with courage, held by the bonds that exist between them. Usually familial, although neighbours and friends come close too, each knows that they cannot survive or flourish in Mongolia’s tough environment without one another.

Relationships aren’t always harmonious. When are they ever? But nomads do share a common belief in life’s purpose and a devotion to one another that strengthens them to overcome the gritty reality of life on the steppe. They have lived their lives on the move, but change is coming. Disheartened with the hardness of life and losses they have endured, some have become city dwellers who enjoy settled lives. They now live in apartments, but usually they are still full of a nomadic spirit that longs to look over the next hill.

Neither way of life is right or wrong; they are just different. Our world needs nomads and as well as those who are settled. Yet, there remains something in the movement of the nomads, their light travel and the community which they inhabit that speaks to me. They remind me of our journey with God, our need to trust in Him and, in our seemingly harsh world, to trust one another.  

© copyright Gillian Newham 2025