It's a brisk morning in the desert of western Mongolia, and in about two hours, a herdsman family has already packed up its ger (a circular felt tent) and is ready to shove off. Winter is coming; time to move again. "In the shadow of the mountain, it will be warmer," says Tuvshinkhuu, a 26-year-old herdsman's wife, as she loads a few last belongings on a train of five camels.

From a horse, her husband grunts something in Mongolian—it sounds like a choked sneeze—and the beasts lurch forward. The valley is so big, it feels like they'll be chasing mountains forever, never moving closer to them. A young, unruly camel begins to bellow; the sound pierces the landscape. Soon the train of camels and horses are a dot in the distance.

Mongolia's herdsmen, who make up more than 30 percent of the population, are nomadic—swapping sites as many as six times a year. They wander free; the countryside is public land, due partly to the communist era from 1921-1991.

In the 1990s, Campus Crusade for Christ (working in Mongolia through Inspirational Films, a subsidiary, until 1998) networked with many churches and organizations, showing the JESUS film to over half the Mongolian population, in towns and villages of more than 250 people. But most nomads did not see the film. In 2000, teams of mostly college students began taking the film specifically to the herdsmen during summer. For many herdsmen, it was the first time they had heard anything about Jesus.

Seeking out nomads and leading them to a relationship with Jesus is a daunting but important task. In fact, it may be one of the greatest remaining challenges for Christians in Mongolia.

Warren Willis, former director of Campus Crusade in Mongolia, knew the herdsmen were a tough project. In 1998, he proposed a solution, which was approved by the Mongolian government: use small parachutes to airdrop across the steppe enough radios and Mongolian Bibles for each family, then saturate the airwaves with evangelism and teaching. The idea later fizzled because of a lack of funding. And so traditional evangelism continues.

The wind begins to howl in the western town of Hovd, as a film team—a Campus Crusade staff member, two volunteers and a local pastor—prepares to leave. This trip in late October has a twist: meeting with herdsmen who saw the film last summer, and leading them to the next step in their faith. It won't be easy.

Mongolia is a country of extremes. Temperatures can drop to as low as 40 below zero in the winter and climb to 90 degrees in the summer. Zuds, a term for harsh winters that follow a dry summer, have killed millions of livestock in recent years.

With a population of 2.6 million, Mongolia is a little bigger than the state of Alaska—making it the least densely populated nation on earth. "[The capital city of Mongolia] is rapidly modernizing," says Bill Forstchen, an expert on Mongolia who teaches history at Montreat College in North Carolina. "But once you enter the countryside, it's like you've stepped back in time 1,000 years."

	Growing Up Some herdsmen are quite wealthy, like the parents of 3-year-old Bumbuuhai. They own two televisions and silk bedding inside their ger.

In the countryside, the team finds Iskhaan, a 70-year-old herdsman who saw the JESUS film last summer. Except for a five-year stint as a builder, Ishkaan has been herding his entire life. The roundish Kazakh elder waddles like he has ridden one too many horses.

His wife, Arsalda, 75, can barely walk. As part of tradition, their 17-year-old granddaughter, Umurgul, does most of the chores. Umurgul's cheeks are chapped and red—evidence of enduring harsh winters.

A calico cat snags a mouse darting under the bed in Ishkaan's ger. A series of shrill squeaks follow. The old man ignores the interruption. "I watched the film, and Jesus is a righteous man," he says. "He is the one person who is on the right track."

Iskhaan prayed and receive Christ last summer, but the team discovers he didn't understand the decision. Similar to many herdsmen, he and his family can't read, which complicates explaining spiritual concepts. The team decides to show the film again.

After dark, a Kazakh-speaking Jesus pops on the portable screen inside the ger. Meanwhile a generator hums outside. Several neighbors learn of the showing, and soon 15 herdsmen watch the film inside the ger, their cigarettes glowing in the dim light.

Afterward, the team separates the viewers into groups to explain how to begin a relationship with Christ. Boldsaikhan Oyunchimeg, the 23-year-old Campus Crusade staff member leading the trip, talks with two herdsmen. Both pray and receive Christ. Afterward, Boldsaikhan, who goes by Boogii, checks their understanding.

"So, now where is God?"

"In the sky?" says a herdsman wearing a Chicago Bulls hat.

"No," says Boogii, who was hoping instead to hear 'In my heart.' "Let's look at another Bible verse."

The man's response reflects shamanism, a form of worship of created things like mountains, rocks and even the sky. Also widespread among herdsmen are Buddhism and Islam.

The next day, the team visits another family. Kinjel, 25, indicated a decision to receive Christ the night before, but now slaughters a goat for a Muslim ceremony just as the team arrives.

"They were empty words, not from the heart," says Boogii, a tear forming in his eye, as the van pulls away. "God loves them. They are just not knowing it."

Later, they meet Jantsan, a 64-year-old herdsman who calls himself "Johnson." He heard about Jesus from a group of missionaries 10 years ago. "If you believe and know Jesus, there will be blessing," he says. "But how does this happen?"

There is no nomadic church. So attending a church requires Jantsan to travel to town, which is at least 30 miles away—up to a five-hour ride by horse.

"I'm asking God to reach out to these people," says Zagar Dumaa, 34, the pastor from Hovd who joins the trip. Meanwhile, he doesn't own a car, and his church of 50 people is financially strapped. Zagar's church is the largest in Hovd, but the other two churches in Hovd face similar problems. Still, Zagar vows to find a way. "I'm planning to come back with doctors and to help them grow in their faith," he says.

At the Movies About the size of a small hotel room, a ger becomes a theater for the JESUS film.

On another night, the team shows the film at a neighboring ger. Nearly all the herders indicate decisions to follow Christ, but the numbers may not reveal the true story.

"I cannot lie and say I am a follower of Jesus, because I need to know more," says Davaajav, one of the men who indicated a decision to trust Christ. "I want to study Christianity carefully."

Throughout the trip, nearly three quarters of the herdsmen indicate decisions to receive Christ. The numbers are high—compared to about 40 percent on other trips. But the reality is that few from the trip will become true followers of Jesus.

"Are the herdsman still far from understanding the gospel?" asks Floyd Sebald, director of Campus Crusade in Mongolia. "Yes."

Christianity is foreign to them; it doesn't fit in with the herdsmen's worldview. Much work still needs to be done. "Really, we are just scratching the surface at this point," says Floyd.

The herdsmen need one of their own to tell them about Jesus. That's why when the team hears of Oyunbileg, 27, a herder who wants to start a Bible study, they are eager to find her. After bumping through the desert for three hours, they arrive at her ger.

About three years ago, Oyunbileg was in the Hovd hospital about to give birth to her second daughter. There she met Ariuntumur, 30, the pastor's wife, who told her about Christ. Sometime later, Oyunbileg committed to follow Christ while attending Zagar's church.

Oyunbileg keeps a worn Bible in the cabinet of her ger, along with a devotional and other materials: a Four Spiritual Laws booklet, and another booklet explaining the Spirit-directed life—two Campus Crusade staples. On another visit to the church, a Campus Crusade staff member trained Oyunbileg how to introduce people to Jesus.

Oyunbileg's husband, Baasanjav, 31, is interested, but has made no commitment to Christ. Oyunbileg desires to tell other herders about Christ, but the lack of support from home makes it tough. "Please forgive me, God," she prays. "I don't share You. I don't have a fruitful life."

Seeing fellow Christians is a much-needed lift. "God has not forgotten about me," she says. "And God's people have not forgotten me."

Oyunbileg is rare—one of the few believing herdsmen who dot the steppe.

The afternoon sun radiates the desert to nearly 40 degrees—an unusual temperature for late fall. But herdsmen know winter will soon own the landscape, bringing immense hardship. It's just life as a herder. "We have no fear," says Ishkaan.

What many herdsmen don't realize is that without Jesus, their life has been a spiritual winter—an unending zud. But there is hope—if missionaries keep coming, if the faith of the few Christian herders takes root and grows. The herders may live to see another season.

You can contact the writer at Chris.Lawrence@ccci.org.