The Center for Central Asian Literatures in Translation

A REMINISCENCE

A NATURAL INTUITION
 

To the eyes and minds of the people of the steppe, so fine a landscape as theirs also come to light in the songs and crafts and in the work that they do.  Given that they cannot distribute even small loads to balance on each side, is it not a sign of his inherent destiny that a Mongolian man can nonetheless balance the earth?

Bööjöö Darchin is the name of a funny old man who features in our songs.  I have heard people badmouthing him, claiming that, while he had no learning and no wisdom, he was still a total know-all.  For my part, I have respect for him.  One autumn, Bööjöö went riding off clipclop with the top scholars from his school.  He came to where we were camped and sat down to talk with my father.

"Has there ever been artemisia growing in this broad valley of yours?", he asked.

Father said,

"Sure, it still does grow.  This year it's been growing uncommonly strong."  And Bööjöö Darchin said,

"So you think this is a good or bad?"  And father said,

"You speak with a fine meaning of something.  You have sat talking of these two things."  And Bööjöö Darchin turned to me.

"Hey, Mendster", he said, "please go and collect some of this artemisia from the valley and dry it.  Then I shall take handfulls of it and put them in a pouch and hang them from the rafters."  And I forgot about what we had done.

Later, in spring, there was an outbreak of a virulent coughing in our area. We called it the vapor, and the coughing spread from house to house all through the spring holidays.

At that time, the cows were calving heavily.  Bööjöö Darchin came by and sat with us, drinking tea, and he knew that I was coughing heavily.  He made a point of hitching his horse and he came back, the vamps of his shoes clinking as he walked.

"Hey, Mendster", he said, "I asked you to collect and dry some of that artemisia".

"Yes".

"OK", he said and boiled some water.  Then he cleared his throat and told me, "Put some into this bowl.  The cough you've had all spring will quieten down immediately."

After the summer holidays, I went to see the old man at Luuzan Springs, where he had spent the summer alone.  He met me with a sardonic smile.

"Hey, Mendster, you're better now, your cough's cleared up nicely."

"Yes, it has".

"Now I'll tell you something.  This old brother of yours has no booklearning.  But this land is a great Mahayana text, it is the wise and gentle Dharma.  In this life of mine, I have experienced the land.  You didn't see the artemesia growing, just as you never saw the autumn pass through.  But you can intuit things according to your own nature.  I felt in my marrow that the cough would come this spring and that's why I said you should collect and dry the artemesia, it just came to me.  Last autumn's artemesia has dealt with the coughing which has spread this spring though our area.  Please give some thought to what I've said now."