Japanese Association of Mongolian Studies

Truly I had never seen so many Mongolian scholars outside Ulaan Baatar. That most were foreign experts made it all the more remarkable. After years of hearing about the Japanese Association of Mongolian Studies (JAMS) it was time for our debut. It seemed a marvel that such an organisation exists and that the Mongolian theme could draw more than 50 people on a Saturday afternoon to Chiba University, Japan. After 20 years researching in Mongolia I had met quite a number of ecologists, musicologists, anthropologists, biologists and even two Europeans studying the Gobi Bear. Now I was in a room full of historians and linguists, of lifetime researchers dedicated to intricate grammar and post-Chinggis epochs, studying details I did not know existed. Walking into the auditorium brought a buzz of the new and the unknown. Here we were all gathered to – well, the theme and premise of the afternoon was not quite clear. But the emphasis on Mongolia shone through, and the delight of being able to exchange knowledge from a lifetime of obscure study. We were with a cohort who shared the joy and struggle of research in a region once the epitome of remoteness, then briefly the fastest growing economy in the world, and now, a vibrant, landlocked country heading for an election and embracing the 21^st century.

With initial wonder about JAMS came anticipation. JAMS had kindly invited PPIA members to participate as speakers. Headed by the project’s Prof Ozaki and welcomed by Prof Konagaya, who first travelled to Mongolia in the 1970s, the event had the atmosphere and familiarity of an Oxford college reunion. There were participants from previous fieldwork, colleagues from universities around Japan, past project partners and frenemies. In the front of auditorium were first rows of no-longer-youthful men ready to question and pontificate. Then came the rising scholars with new twists on previous leitmotifs and women with academic positions. Following behind were postgraduates, foreign students, Mongolians in Japan and others interested and composed for the meeting. The hierarchy was strikingly un-random and similarly unexplained. Yet only here could one find so many scholars focused on Mongolia.

Throughout there was a sense of other purpose to the meeting, of a camaraderie shared over years that we as outsiders drifted through. Our talks were delivered to nods, gentle applause and few questions. Around the refreshment table at the break conversations were carried on from previous meetings and places. Thoughts were shared about linking research from Inner Mongolia, summer fieldwork plans and identifying the ‘who’s who’ of the group whilst others rushed off to have words with a professor in the hall. Here PPIA was a floating island, a group of novices and experienced hands stepping into the JAMS world.

The podium looked out on a research haven comprised of years of study, expertise and experience with all the minds dedicated to topics on Mongolia. The event was a soothing academic habitat, yet also oddly with a distance brought about by language, subject, university and transience. The enthusiasm and common experience was palpable and poignant between the Japanese hosts and members. The lingering reminiscences were with the Mongolians, some in Japan since secondary school, all integrating, getting degrees and adroitly making their way in a new world as Mongolians naturally do. We smiled, exchanged name cards, shook hands and talked. Finally the day and moment had arrived. But did we find the heart of the meeting? We came, we spoke, we left.

The Japanese Association of Mongolian Studies is a refreshingly loose-knit group, affiliation or connection. It is driven by a communal interest in Mongolia and seems to exist beyond time or organisation. A long history sets a pattern of a spring meeting in greater Tokyo, then an autumn event across the archipelago. PPIA members attend regularly, with the confabs a pleasure in a busy academic year. Looking about, here was a gathering closer to the ancient Greeks agora of people discussing issues through an afternoon and festive dinner. This contrasts with matter-of-fact seminars and talks given to burnish reputations and enhance funding opportunities found in western academe. As participants hob-knobbed, held forth and maybe squabbled I felt a certain wistfulness. Where was the UK or European equivalent? When did we regularly gather in delight of research in a far-off land? How peculiar and unique was the day. Hats off to our hosts!