Source: National Geographic                         Date: 12 October, 2011

The two-decade transition from a largely pastoral to urban society in Mongolia has created a vacuum, leaving inexperienced herders without work and families struggling in the capital.
During the winter of 2009 and 2010, most of G. Ochkhuu's herd either froze or starved to death during a dzud, a devastating period of snow, and bitter cold following a summer drought."After that, I just couldn't see our future in the countryside anymore," Ochkhuu said quietly. "So we decided to sell what was left of our herd and make a new life."
Ochkhuu took his wife and daughter to the city to claim a new life, but transitioning is hard for men such as Ochkhuu. In the ramshackle slums, or ger districts, where about 60 percent of Ulaanbaatar's 1.2 million people live without paved roads, sanitation, or running water. The ger districts are high in crime, alcoholism, poverty, and despair, which is why many people here do the unthinkable, for a herder: They lock their gates at night.
"These people are completely free," said Baabar, a writer and historian. "Even if they've been in UB for years, their mentality is still nomadic. They do exactly what they want to do, when they want to do it."
Ochkhuu is an authentic livestock herder, unlike others who failed during the dzud, said Baabar. After the collapse of communism, thousands of people left UB to reclaim their pastoral roots. However, the do not know how to live a life like this. Unfortunately, these people are equally unfit in the countryside as they are in the city.
Currently Mongolia seeks to reassert itself between Russia and China, which have pushed it around for centuries. Nationalism—even xenophobia—is on the rise, and foreigners are increasingly blamed for Mongolia's problems in the same breath as local and national politicians, widely considered deeply corrupt.
"We may not be able to raise our animals in UB," he went on. "But it's a good place to raise our children."
Passing through the fence into his yard, Ochkhuu drags the wooden gate behind him until the latch clicks.
"God, I miss my horses," he said.