KHAIRKHAN SOUM, Mongolia – Every morning, 17-year-old Nemekhbayar Enkhzayaa wakes up to find the water and bread have frozen overnight. She races to get the fire burning and tea made, so she and the three younger children she lives with can get to school on time.
In the small town of Khairkhan Soum, in Mongolia’s Arkhangai province, Enkhzayaa is the head of what professionals call a “child-led home,” where children take care of themselves and other children while their parents are away in remote corners of the country following their herds down centuries-old pasture routes.
Enkhzayaa is the oldest in the house this year, so it’s her turn to take charge. That means buying daily necessities using the money provided by the children’s parents, including soap and school supplies. It also means being the one to comfort the younger ones when homesickness strikes or they come down with a cold.
“Because I’m the oldest, I’m worried about the smaller ones when they’re left alone,” she says. “I don’t know if they’re OK, or getting cold.”
Enkhzayaa had made sure that the round, tent-like home she runs was clean and warm before her guests arrived. Save the Children workers are visiting families and children around the province to take account of how bad this year’s winter could turn out. After serving traditional salty milk tea and pastries in a white bowl, she takes a seat by the wood-burning stove at the center of the one-room home.
“We won’t complain,” she says. “But sometimes there are difficult times.”
Winters in Mongolia are hard enough, but they become a fight for survival during the winter disaster known as the dzud. Extreme cold arrived early this winter, with temperatures dropping below -40F (–40C) in October. The dzud has been known to kill off over a million livestock in one winter. With tens of thousands of families in Mongolia reliant on traditional herding practices for their livelihoods, many herders have moved into towns to look for new sources of income.
Others have chosen to stay in the countryside to help their animals survive the cold. But to keep their children in school, many families send their sons and daughters to live in town – and often that means leaving them to look after each other.
Many locals consider the children of herders to be the same as orphans, with the children spending two-thirds of the year in dorms or child-led homes like Enkhzayaa’s. “Sometimes it is difficult for the younger ones because they miss their parents,” she says. “Because it’s a challenging winter, they can’t come so often.”
Privately, she tells the Save the Children staff that it’s hard for her to make the right decisions without advice from an adult. Although most of the food, firewood and other basics are brought to them by the parents on the few occasions they can visit, it’s up to Enkhzayaa to keep track of everything their home needs. Her responsibilities leave her with little time for after-school clubs, seeing friends or studying.
Mongolians have superstitions about this being the Year of the Ape. Many fear this winter will be much more terrible than last, when more than a million livestock died.
“Herders are particularly vulnerable,” says Erdenebileg Telmen, a program manager for Save the Children. “Rural families who have less than 100 or 200 animals are most vulnerable.”
Leading a team to assess how they can best help the herders and their children, Telmen has learned that some herders in the Arkhangai province have already gone through half their year’s supply of winter fodder for their animals. There is some relief now that the weather has tempered. But the really worry is what will happen come Mongolia’s notoriously unpredictable spring, when sunshine can turn to blizzard in a moment’s notice. Every head of livestock that dies is more than $500 lost for the family it belongs to.
Last year, Save the Children spent $1.1 million to educate officials throughout five of Mongolia’s provinces on dzud response and teachers on how to help children cope with the stresses disaster brings. Other money spent went toward direct relief for families, such as removing dead animal carcasses and distributing livestock feed.
For the kids away at school, knowing the hardships their parents face every winter can lead to guilt over being away from home. Some will run away to get back to their parents. Others will drop out of school to go back to the countryside and help their parents.
For those who do stay in school, even traveling back and forth to see their parents during the holidays is a challenge. “Teenage girls sometimes travel 70 kilometers (43 miles) on the road on top of a small truck for three hours,” says Save the Children staffer Sandagsuren Tamir. “It’s dangerous for them … They say, ‘We have so much fear,’ and they’re so cold.”
Some students live in school dormitories instead of in child-led homes, but even then girls still find themselves taking on the responsibility of looking after the other kids. At one school in Khairkhan, Khatkhuu Erdenesuvd, 16, makes sure the two younger girls she rooms with get their homework done and get into bed by 10 p.m.
“The advantage of [living in] the dorm is becoming independent,” says Erdenesuvd of life away from her parents.
Enkhzayaa agrees, saying she, too, has learned a lot about being a young woman. She hopes that running a child-led home will help her become independent enough to leave her small town for bigger and greater things. “I want to be a doctor and study in [Mongolian capital] Ulaanbaatar,” she says. “I want to be an ob-gyn.”