by Joscie Norris, of University of Vermont
In a last minute decision in 2018, I realized I was going to leave the continent for the first time and study in Mongolia. A place so distant and off of my radar I’d never considered what wooden saddles, steppe, dried yack yogurt, or conservation in the Horidol Sardag could feel like. My gut said Round River’s curriculum and focus on community partnership based research was what I needed. After a snowy fall of research abroad in northern Mongolia with RRCS, I was able to return for the summer to continue my research project. My Round River semester bloomed into what will be the first research in Khövsgöl province to document the ecology and traditional ecological knowledge of Vansemberuu, a critically endangered, sub-endemic, medicinal snow lotus. I’m Joscie, a senior at the University of Vermont and a Round River alumna. I am studying Environmental Studies and Art, particularly interested in environmental education and art, ethnobotany, ecology, and playing in mountains.
I had hardly conducted field research before the fall of 2018 when I lived out of my tent and our ger (yurt) for three months in the Darkhad Valley of Khövsgöl Mongolia. There, eight students and two instructors launched research projects with camera traps, pikas, waterfowl, and the most curious of all, Vansemberuu. Our community partners were the Ulaan Taiga Protected Areas administration (UTPAA), a small gritty group of local staff and rangers. RR instructors have researched, skied, networked, and formed tight friendships with the UTPAA for many years. Finally, the first batches of students were in the field and the park’s questions were being addressed.
A few elements draw me to working in this area. Surprisingly, the ecosystems have scantly been studied or formally documented. The rangers we work with are a group of goofy and impeccably dedicated locals who are constantly mentoring us. Most importantly, Mongolia has a longstanding history of conservation and environmental engagement that reshaped the way I view and respect land. Tumursukh, the park director, always charges us to peruse conservation work “with heart.” The work the parks, rangers, and students were doing there to document and support conservation, inspired me to return.
This program was nothing like a traditional study abroad, nor did it fall into the trap of many travel or service programs. What I valued most about working with Round River was how intentionally the instructors engaged with our partners. Tempting was it to do our own thing and focus on the data, but we constantly were asking ourselves “will this help the parks?” We used an interdisciplinary lens to understand the government’s politics and economics, looked inquisitively at herding practices, discussed tradition, explored the nuances of religion, and thought about individuals. Despite the sky’s constant snow and rain, our packs were always ready to go and adapt to the local cultural norms and flow. Listening and respecting our partners framed all decisions. Migration time? Sure. Dance party now? Coming. Final presentations? Let’s go. Furthermore, because of our student autonomy and the practical value of our work, I was appreciative that my academics were for once, contributing to conservation.
I’m incredibly grateful for the strength of the partnerships there. Most mornings now I wake in Vermont to a message from someone in Mongolia about plants, wolves, methods, or snow. I was fortunate that my instructors have supported my research and personal growth each day since I arrived. Because I’d learned on my semester how to design research projects from the ground up with scant resources or supplies, I was able to design another project. When I applied for grant funding I had the experience, connections, and local knowledge to make a confident case.
On multiple horse-packing trips in remote parts of the park with rangers this summer, I used a transect method to study the ecology of Vansemberuu. In town, I interviewed locals and rangers about the flower’s uses, distribution, and cultural importance. This plant, a botanical treatment for lung diseases, is arguably the most known and valued Mongolian flower that exists among an array of religious, cultural, and community beliefs. Ironically, little has been documented on these species; much medicinal knowledge was lost during communism and what’s known and passed down is contradictory and patchy….much like it’s growth patterns. I’m optimistic that my work will result in novel and tangible management recommendations for the parks because of local’s input.
This work was hard, just like wooden saddles, and had me laughing, tripping, crying, and sliding up and down mountain talus for much of this past year. As a young female in science abroad, I regularly doubted my contribution and skillsets. Fortunately, I was never alone; constantly supported and joined by the rangers, research partners, RR students, and instructors, I fell head over heels in love with this research. Someone was always bursting in to show me a photo, bring me a plant, share yogurt, or nerd out. This work and engagement is the thing I’m proudest of from my college endeavor. I discovered my love of plants and ethnobotany, that I value natural history, and how to work in international conservation. These experiences rerouted the course of my major and set me on an exciting path towards grad school and dreamy jobs. My study abroad semester gave me a phenomenal field skillset and the confidence and creativity to tackle a project that matters for conservation, human health, and environmental education.