Buyanbadrakh Erdenetsogt—Buya for short—led our ceremonies, acting as a mediator among humans, spirits, and nature. Though anthropologists use “shaman” (a word of Tungusic origin) to define this phenomenon, in Mongolian culture, our traditional belief system is called Boo murgel, which involves communication with spirits, nature, and ancestors for guidance and healing. We worship the Eternal Blue Sky as our highest deity and Mother Earth as a source of life. Despite influences from Buddhism, other religions, and atheism, Boo murgel remains an integral part of Mongolian identity, particularly in nomadic communities.

(Where reindeer roam: Life among Mongolia’s nomadic herders.)

Buya, at 39 the youngest member of the WUISP’s Council of Elders, directed our pilgrimage to the heart of the snow leopard’s domain, seeking the blessing needed for the jade miniature. Reaching the road’s end, we abandoned our vehicles and clambered awkwardly onto horses. A challenging ascent was the final hurdle before the blessing ceremony. When we reached a plateau, we set up camp beneath the watchful gaze of Sutai Khairkhan, a magnificent glacial peak and one of Mongolia’s 12 state-worshipped mountains, which the president honors with special ceremonies every four years.

Amid the awe-inspiring landscape, Buya opened the sacred space with an invocation of the local deity, the guardian spirit of the mountain. We then united in prayer for the well-being of all life, for peace and harmony. Our voices carried through the crisp air, expressing our gratitude to Mother Earth and seeking the continued benevolence of the Eternal Blue Sky.

Much to our astonishment, Buya brought with him an unlikely contribution: watermelons. This playful offering aimed to charm the local spirits, echoing the old Mongolian expression “Baigalia argadah,” which translates to “Coax nature.” Even though the spirits typically favor locally produced food—and watermelons are not native to Mongolia—Buya argued that this unconventional gift was more than appropriate, for the powerful spirits of the mountains are sometimes like curious and mischievous children. Perhaps they gazed with amusement upon the watermelons tumbling down the Manhan cliffs the following day, bursting over the white snow with green and pink, covering the valley with seedy blessings.

Ceremonies are conservation. That is their purpose and their power. Buya’s ceremony, and the deep joy and bliss it evoked in all participants, demonstrates this truth. Only by embracing place-based Indigenous wisdom can we possibly hope to protect our shared past and humanity’s shared future.