Unveiling the Tales of Tradition: The Forgotten Wooden Cradle

In our blog post #1 of Unveiling the Tales of Tradition, we rediscover the wooden cradle, a cherished artifact deeply intertwined with Mongolian nomadic traditions. Drawing from a wealth of ethnographic research and historical chronicles, we uncover the intricate details of wooden cradles and their role in Mongolian society. Tsahim Suvarga, a non-profit organization dedicated to documenting Mongolian intangible cultural heritage, has teamed up with us to shed light on this often-overlooked aspect of Mongolian life.

Legend has it that even the Genghis Khan, the fearless conqueror of the vast Mongolian steppes, once slept in a simple wooden cradle, much like every other nomadic newborn of his time

Let's rewind the time a bit and explore where these wooden cradles came from. Legends whisper tales of their origin, woven into the rich tapestry of Mongolian folklore. Yet, despite their storied past, archaeologists have yet to uncover a single wooden cradle buried beneath the earth.

Why is that, you might wonder? Well, it's a mystery wrapped in the unique funeral customs of Mongolian families. It seems that these cradles were spared from burial, perhaps out of respect for the innocence of childhood or the belief that children should not rest in their cribs for eternity.

But here's where it gets really interesting. Among the whispers of history, there are hints that not all cradles were left untouched by time. Some babies, especially those from noble families or those who journeyed to the afterlife with their mothers, were laid to rest with sheepskin cradles as their final bed.

As for the timeline of these cradles, well, that's a tale still unfolding. Scholars pore over ancient texts like the "Khukh Sudar" historical chronicles, it's mentioned that when Temujin /Genghis Khan/ was born, his mother Oulen expressed concern about raising the baby without a proper home. Old man Jarchiday put a lot of thought into it and crafted a willow cradle. He advised, "Hang it in the summer to let the baby grow and place it in your bed in the winter to care for the baby. He named it Mantsui (cradle) because it nurtures great virtues and called it Ulgii (cradle) because it sustained eternal virtues.

Meaning of its name in Mongolian

In the world of Mongolian cradles, there's a fascinating story behind every name. Dr. Dulam, a wise researcher, shares a little secret about why one particular cradle is called "Ulgii."

You see, in Mongolian, "Ulgii" has a special meaning. It comes from the word "Ulguh," which means "to hang." And why is that? Well, because long ago, people used to hang their cradles from the walls. Imagine little babies swaying gently as they sleep, snug and secure in their hanging cribs.

Now, here's a tradition you might find interesting. Ever heard of putting a premature baby in a hanging cradle from the wall and letting the sunlight dance around them? It's a practice that's been around for ages. Ancient Mongols believed that sunshine bring up premature baby quickly. Therefore they used to put babies in the crib hanged from a wall inside their felt tent /Ger/ and moving it with the sunlight. Now that we think about it, felt tent plus sunshine is like an ancient form of incubation.

From a medical standpoint, newborns experience rapid changes in body temperature, particularly becoming susceptible to cold quickly. However, by the age of one, this temperature tends to stabilize. In Mongolian culture, the baby's cradle is essential for maintaining a steady temperature. During chilly winters, they adapt by placing a sheepskin cradle within the wooden one.

It is not just a bed for a baby - it's a home for a baby

Let's dive into the anatomy of the cradle! a wooden cradle with a special feature – a tower rising up from its top part. Now, imagine this tower wrapped in a snug covering made of leather or cloth, known as "nelkhii." Fascinatingly, in Western Mongolia, they use the same word "kharach" for both the window of a Ger and the baby cradle.

But what does this all mean? Well, let's unpack it. The tower on the cradle symbolizes something profound – the window of a Ger. It's like saying, "Hey, kids have their own space, just like adults!" In the Torguud ethnic group, they take this symbolism to another level. They hang the baby's cradle from this special window, the kharach. It's like saying, "Here's your little spot in our big world, little one!" So, every time you see a cradle, remember, it's not just a bed for a baby – it's a window into their world.

The keeper of hidden messages

Let's unravel the fascinating tale of the cradle's secrets! Imagine a cradle, not just a bed for a baby, but a keeper of hidden messages. On each side of this special crib, there are straps made for hanging. These straps connect to the cradle's tower and its feet, forming what's called a "tata" – a leather strap adorned with tales.

Now, here's where it gets intriguing. Picture a visitor arriving at a household with a newborn. If they come empty-handed, fear not! They bring something far more precious – the longest strap from their saddle. With this strap, they fashion the "tata," tying a knucklebone to it. But this knucklebone isn't just any bone; it carries secrets.

Imagine this: if the newborn is a boy, the knucklebone faces forward; if it's a girl, it faces backward. And for families with multiple bundles of joy, they tie as many knucklebones as there are children. Some even knot the "tata" to match the child's age in months. So, just by glancing at the cradle, guests can decipher the baby's story – no questions needed!

But there's more to this tale. In Mongolian customs, numbers hold a special place. People rarely ask about someone's horses, livestock, children, or age. Instead, they let the cradle do the talking. It's like a silent storyteller, weaving tales of family, gender, and age.

Now, here's where the cradle becomes more than just a crib. In times of sorrow, when a child passes away, the knucklebones tell a different story. The displaced bone leaves an empty space, a silent tribute to the little one who's journeyed beyond. Guests, noticing this delicate detail, can tread softly into conversations, avoiding painful topics with grace.

So, next time you see a cradle adorned with knucklebones, remember, it's not just a crib – it's a keeper of tales, a guardian of secrets, and a bridge between hearts.

True loss of heritage only happens when we don't take the time to document it

In the bustling city, where modernity reigns supreme, these relics of tradition are nowhere to be found. But what about the countryside, where tradition clings to life like a fragile thread? Even there, the echoes of the past are growing fainter.

During our field research among the nomadic families across Mongolia, we were met with a heartbreaking sight: the once-beloved cradles are now rare treasures, lost in the sands of time. The stories of generations past, whispered by elders, paint a picture of a bygone era. "The cradle my parents used," they say, "we've held onto it for ten generations." Yet, even these cherished heirlooms face an uncertain fate.

But amidst the fading echoes, a glimmer of hope remains. In the Bayan-Olgii province, among the Kazakh people, the wooden cradle still finds its place. Here, in the shadow of the Altai Mountains, families embrace tradition with open arms, holding onto the memories of their ancestors.

Yet, the question lingers: how much longer will these traditions endure? As the world hurtles forward, leaving the past in its wake, we're left to wonder if the echoes of tradition will fade into silence or if they'll survive.