Children of Genghis Khan, by Luis Pancorbo

Mongolia is one of the best places in the world to see how grass grows, something that might be useful in life. In this moon, there is no fear: the grass is dry, and the steppe begins to feel the biting cold like knives. A bowl of airag, fermented mare's milk with a touch of white wine, as Marco Polo described, is welcome, although what truly warms the spirit is Genghis Khan vodka, explosive with the appearance of stream water. And it's about breathing deeply that forgotten, or suffocated, air of our homelands that is freedom.

This year would have additional reasons for toasting, if there were any needed, as it marks the 800th anniversary of the founding of the Mongolian state, the work of Temujin, the blacksmith who became the Oceanic Khan, or in other words, Genghis Khan. All of that, as often happens with anniversaries, lends itself to galloping on horseback and evoking what could have been and was not, but mainly it encourages venturing into one of the most beautiful, vast, and empty countries in the world: barely two and a half million inhabitants in a vast area that is three times the size of Spain, stretching from sandy deserts (the Gobi) to taiga forests (on the border with Siberia).

Genghis Khan, the main character of Mongolia's past and present, is now regarded as a shaman and almost a saint, has been vilified as a barbarian and cruel when in reality he merely devastated everything in his path or turned cities and cultivated fields back to their original condition of pastures. But he also made love, and almost every night, which has led to some surprising DNA studies: right now, no less than 16 million people on this planet are of the same family (they share the same genetic pattern), and that family is none other than that of Genghis Khan. That's why once in a while, people in disparate places around the world undergo genetic tests (like Oxford Ancestors) and casually discover that they are descendants of the Mongolian leader, which provides a family tree, or more precisely, a "stellar cluster" to boast of a great lineage, not just four lesser counts.

The truth is that Genghis Khan fathered thousands of children, and his geometric multiplication, starting from the 13th century, has contributed to leaving his genetic signature not only in Asia but also in Europe from where it spread to America. "Genghis Khan was not a libertine, but neither was he an ascetic, and he had access to several hundred women during the 40 years he dedicated to building his empire," points out John Man in a good book about Temujin. It is more a matter of Y chromosomes, those passed down by males, which, being conservative, doubled the number of male descendants of Genghis Khan with each generation, leading to 320 men in just five generations... Finally reaching, as I said, 16 million "children of Genghis Khan."

Perhaps one of Genghis Khan's secrets lay in the diet, and for that, nothing is better in Mongolia than a marmot. This is a good moon for hunting marmots on the steppe. The hunters perform a sort of hypnotic dance, waving a piece of white cloth, which is essential, in front of the marmot's burrow. Shy and cautious as it is, there comes a moment when the marmot can no longer resist its curiosity, hence it meets its doom. Then the Mongolians, who completely disagree with the notion that marmot fleas transmit bubonic plague, as was said to disparage the delicacy of the steppe and its people, chop up the animal and wrap it in its own skin, roasting it with hot stones. It puffs up, like a berciano botillo, and if there's urgency and hunger, the Mongolians even use a blowtorch, as I saw being done in the Khenti region. In the end, that herbivore, which feeds on aromatic plants from the steppe, and drinks only the dew, tastes delicious, though the best part is a piece from the neck that the Mongolians call "human meat," due to the myth of a man who turned into a marmot.

Afterward, the usual: a lot of horseback riding.