Nice to Meet You
My name is Yanjima, and I’m a riding coach at Horse Camp Mongolia.
I’m 23 years old and currently live in Ulaanbaatar. But when I was growing up, I lived with my nomadic family in Övörkhangai Province, about 450 kilometers from Ulaanbaatar.
My hometown has mountains and areas with plenty of trees.
When people think of Mongolia, they may imagine endless, flat grasslands stretching as far as the eye can see. But the place where I grew up was a little different.
When I was a child, our family’s day started early in the morning.
We milked our livestock, made dairy products, and helped our parents with their work.
These days, my younger sisters attend school, so my family moves to a village during the winter and returns to a nomadic lifestyle in the summer.
I now live and work in Ulaanbaatar, so my life is very different from what it was back then.
We Had Around 20 Horses at Home
My family raised horses, too.
We had around 20 in total, including about 10 that were used for riding.
So, as a child, having horses around was nothing unusual for me.
They were simply part of everyday life.
I honestly don’t remember how old I was when I first rode a horse.
I think I was around 12 when my father properly taught me how to ride.
At first, I wasn’t particularly afraid.
But after riding for a while, I fell off a few times.
That naturally made me a little scared.
Even children who grow up in nomadic families don’t automatically know how to do everything well from the start.
The Horse Named Khongor That I Still Remember
Of all the horses I rode as a child, there is one I remember especially well.
It had a slightly golden-yellow coat, and I called it “Khongor.”
It wasn’t exactly a gentle, quiet horse.
It loved to run and sometimes would suddenly take off at speed.
I think the horse could probably tell that I was still just a child.
Whenever it made a sudden movement while running, I would lose my balance and fall off.
It threw me off many times.
Even so, I loved that horse.
I used to go out to look after the sheep with my cousins, and on the way home, we would sometimes race each other on horseback.
Khongor was fast, so I always made it home first.
Looking back, those are some of my most precious childhood memories.
Horses Were Like Friends to Me
In Japan, I think many people associate horses with horseback riding as a sport or with tourist activities.
But when I was growing up, horses were much more closely connected to everyday life.
I rode them almost every day and spent a lot of time with them.
That’s why, to me, horses were like friends.
When I was preparing to move to Ulaanbaatar for university, my father sold Khongor.
I remember feeling so sad that I cried.
That’s how close horses were to me growing up.
Now, It’s My Turn to Teach Others About Horses
After graduating from university, I worked as an interpreter for a Japanese teacher at a technical college in Mongolia.
One thing that surprised me about working with Japanese people was how they would double-check even the smallest details.
At first, I wondered, “Why do they need to check such little things so carefully?”
But as we worked together, I gradually came to understand just how important that habit was.
Now, I’m about to begin a new role at Horse Camp Mongolia, teaching visitors from Japan and other countries how to interact with horses and enjoy horseback riding.
It feels a little strange.
For me, riding a horse and holding the reins are things I’ve done naturally since childhood.
But from now on, I’ll need to put these familiar skills into words and explain them step by step.
“How do you ride a horse?”
“How should you hold the reins?”
“What should you do with your body when the horse moves?”
To be honest, I’m a little worried.
“Will I be able to explain everything clearly?”
That’s one reason I’m studying horses all over again myself.
I Hope You’ll Come Back to Mongolia
At Horse Camp Mongolia, I want guests to do more than simply ride a horse. I hope they’ll stay in a nomadic family’s ger, spend time with horses, and experience a little of the nomadic way of life.
It would make me happy if visitors from other countries could discover even a small part of the life that felt so ordinary to me as a child.
And when they finish their riding experience, I hope they’ll think:
“I’d love to try that again.”
“Next time, I want to ride a little more on my own.”
And someday, if they come back thinking,
“I want to visit Mongolia again,”
that would make me truly happy.
From now on, I’ll be sharing stories little by little in this Journal from the Steppe about Mongolia’s horses, nomadic life, and everyday experiences at Horse Camp Mongolia.
I hope you’ll join me!
