Growing up in Mongolia

I don't know when this photograph was taken. I remember vaguely that my brother and I were called to wash our faces by our parents for a snapshot, taken by our neighbour in Ulaanbaatar.

My mum made a flower with a red ribbon and attached it to my hair, which was common finery for a girl in a communist country such as Mongolia. The flower makes me think that I might have been eight and my brother Delgerkhuu nine, so it must have been around 1988. We didn't call each other brother and sister then, and all I seem to recall is our constant fighting and bickering.

Our family lived in a small ger, a circular tent, which is a Mongolian traditional dwelling. It was only big enough for three beds, a table, a couple of chairs and a stove. The table was used for everything you could think of. It was a study table, ironing board, dining table and provided storage space when we went to bed. My parents made sure that we had everything. I cannot remember going hungry.

Then came the collapse of communism and a very hard first couple of years followed. Mongolia's infrastructure had broken down; consequently, the country had to start rationing its food supplies and introduced the food card or talon. Each family was allocated a certain amount of meat, bread, flour, sugar, cooking oil and other basic foodstuffs. Chocolate and sweets were rare.

Things have changed so much since then. Mongolia is prospering because of its mining boom. Memories of the food rationing of the 1990s are long gone. The majority of the population, who are under 25, can't remember what happened then or weren't even born. Nowadays they go around flashing their expensive electronic gadgets, branded clothing and trainers, and thinking it was always like that. Like you can just go to a shop and buy whatever you want. In the early 1990s, when you went to the shop, all you saw was empty shelves and the only product was a brown salt produced in Mongolia.

In a way, this photograph signalled the start of something new and we had no idea of what was coming. Now I am completing my PhD in contemporary visual art practice at Leeds Metropolitan University; my brother is working in a multinational corporation, Oyu Tolgoi, based in Mongolia, the world's largest undeveloped copper-gold mining project in the Gobi desert. This was only possible because of the opportunities we were presented with after the collapse of communism.

It is an understatement to say that Delgerkhuu and I are irreplaceable to each other. It's not only because we live apart but because our shared experience of growing up made us great friends. Now he is a family man with a wife and beautiful daughter and I am his right-hand person, someone he can count on. Looking at this photograph, I now realise that the fondness and love we have for each other was present even when we were children. But we were children and didn't really know how to express our feelings. I love him so much. 

Tsendpurev Tsegmid