TRAVELOGUE #8

When: Sunday, June 18
Where: 60 km NE of Ulan Bator, Mongolia

This afternoon we had a quick tour of the capital city before heading to the Elstei Ger Camp. Words cannot describe the vastness. The beauty of this place will swallow you whole. It is a tourist camp, so all the gers are ¼ the size of traditional gers, but I have my very own. Besides a quiet group of Japanese, the two Americans, the aforementioned Brits (Kate, Martin and petit Rose) and I are the only guests at the camp. This evening after a meal of Mongolian dumplings, I took a shower and then struck out, up a hill on my own. I passed a large herd of wild horses on the way, grazing. As I walked, I couldn’t believe where I was. I started to cry. At the top of the hill I found a large deliberate pile of stones. I decided to walk clockwise around the stones, because the sun moves clockwise across the sky. I began with my right foot, because you always lead with the right when entering a Buddhist Monastery. I circled the pile thrice, because odd numbers are luckier than even. These are just some of the things I learned earlier in the day, while touring the city. By the time I had concluded my little ceremony, darkness had fallen on the verdant hills like a heavy felted blanket. I began to make my way back. As I descended into the valley I felt a significant drop in temperature. About 200 meters before reaching camp, I was met by Saraa (our guide) and another woman who worked there. I think they were worried about the foreigners because after they saw me back to my tent, they went out looking for the two American boys. I found my ger mostly toasty. Someone had made a fire while I was away. I fell asleep wrapped up in blankets feeling safe and warm and loved.

I woke up around 2:40 AM. The ger was as cold as a dead horse and strange dogs were barking and baying outside. I had to pee badly. I lay in bed for about 20 minutes trying to figure out if the dogs were friendly and playful or rabid and hostile. I listened, motionless to their canine conversation but they may as well have been speaking Mongolian. I could not understand the situation. And it didn’t even matter. My bladder made the point moot. I got out of bed put on a pair of jeans and fastened my headlamp around my skull. I went to the door and opened it with a creek. Almost immediately, Cujo, who had been digging holes around the neighbor’s ger turned his head in my direction. His eyes reflected like glass marbles in the LED light. He charged towards me and I felt all 80 lbs of his weight hit the little wooden door as I shut and locked it. Now I am the one left panting. The dog continued to bark and scratch the base of the door. Then it circled my ger several times snorting and scratching, trying find a weak spot between the floorboards and felt walls. I sat on my bed frozen, like a cottontail. The only thing moving was my pounding heart. Finally, the dog lost interest and gave up. I ended up to peeing in a plastic water bottle. Don’t try that at home, kids.