Mongolians live a nomadic life in a harsh environment, searching for grasslands here and there. That's why a shaman who foresees future and sets the moving time is an absolute being for Mongolian. We got into their life, meeting Bou, a shaman of heong-heo-reu village.

'Doong, Doong, Doong-' We could hear the sound of a drum from the door. When we entered the house, a murmuring song came to our ears. Bou who was wearing a hat with a feather and a bunch of threads on his face was calling god in heaven, dancing with a drum. When the song reached the climax, a young girl was possessed by a spirit of an old god. The shaman said that the god was an ancestor of her mother's side. People let Bou lean on a chair because he couldn't keep his balance just with a stick. They gave a cup of tea named su-tae-cha (Mongolian traditional milk tea) and a cigarette to him. Bou blew out a stream of smoke through the threads on his face.

In shamanism, it is said that there are two kinds of skies, 'the white sky' and 'the black sky'. While people pray to the white sky for a treatment, they pray to the black sky for bad lucks to go away.Bou tried to treat pain on Bodrakmaha's shoulder. He massaged the patients' shoulder, spouted su-tae-cha, hitting their shoulder with a long strap.

We sat down with our palms opened and thumbs folded. Bou gave us some advice about our life. Bodrakmaha told us that many people in the village often visit Bou to seek his advice.

"Whenever people have any difficulties, they visit here to meet a god in heaven. They do not necessarily have to pay money. Because this work is not for making money, the poor can come and get a counsel without any payment."

Bou was playing a role as an anchor of the tribe and a guide for villagers. Even though Buddhism is more dominant in Mongolia, shamanism still remains deeply in Mongolian's life.

After talking with us, Bou held the drum again to let the god go back to heaven. 'Doong, Doong, Doong-' The music gradually became passionate, and turned to be very silent soon. The God flew back to the sky. When Bou took of his hat, the young girl knitted her brows as if she was just awakened from sleep. The room was full of sanctity and piety. Bou, who creates hope even in a harsh windstorm and a severe drought, was the picture of Mongolian life itself.