Under a Mongolian Sky

DIRECTORS NOTES: A whisper in the wind, a silence in the stars. Western Mongolia contained a humble beauty, a powerful vastness that’s lure only strengthened as time went on. Nainoa and I (I being Sam Potter) spent two weeks in the province of Bayan-Olgii getting to know the Kazakh eagle hunters who call these lands home. Every day started with the soft blue glow of dawn on our window, the rattle of a bitter wind trying to force its way in, and the fleeting moment of courage it took to remove oneself from the warm bundle of animal skins that made up our beds on the floor. Of course, that was nothing compared to the walk to the outhouse, or for that matter, being in the outhouse, which was four almost waist-high walls surrounding a hole in the ground. Here you’d walk out onto a plank of wood, pop a squat, and decide whether to stick your head up into the icy wind and away from the stench, or hunker down in the sweet sweet smell of warmth. I usually chose warmth, however, Nainoa said he preferred to brave th