It rained all night, but we were cozy and dry in the ger. Keira woke up at 7.00 and realised she had been sharing a bed with Alesia and wasn't happy about it. At 7.30 I woke Toya (somewhere in the sleeping bag on the floor of the ger) to find out about breakfast. We were to learn that Toya can sleep through anything. Our hosts came in and got the fire going and stayed for a chat. They have seven children, the youngest is a son. We are sleeping in the ger that belongs to him and his wife. He was outside in the drizzle, mucking out the goat pen in bare feet. I was reading Keira the Cinderella story book when he came in with an armful of wood. He stopped to listen to the rest of the story, looking at the pictures along with Keira.
The father showed us a newspaper clipping from 1930 of the monastery site - it was huge. The father is wearing a yellow satin shirt and Buddhist beads around his neck. He says he has an interest in Buddhism and is waiting for the temple to be restored. His father was a monk here, but kept it secret when the monastery was destroyed in 1937 and he went into hiding. He never knew his father had been monk until just before he died. Many monks were killed here and no-one was allowed at this site for 60 years. They tell us about a small lake nearby. The animals won't drink from it. They don't take water from it. During rain or drought the size of the lake never changes. The rain keeps on falling. We sit inside and chat.
Rain, rain, rain
Eventually we leave, with more promises to send photos back and visit again. On the road we stop to admire some Deer Stones. Found across Mongolia, deer stones are ancient burial markers that date from the Bronze Age. The ancient steppe tribes believed that after death a soul departed this world and ascended to the sky on the backs of deer. The deer carved onto the stones represent this. The stones are standing in the middle of emptiness, with no real markers to explain their purpose. The girl's clamber all over them - in Australia Bronze Age artifacts would be fenced off and tickets charged. Here we snap some photos in the rainy mist and scurry back into the van. Later we stop to admire a big ovoo. These are large piles of rocks usually found on mountain passes that are a repository of offerings for the local spirits, or ancient grazing markers. It depends on who you ask. The Mongolian's are resourceful people, so perhaps both interpretations are right.
Sallymae: "How many times do I have to walk around this thing again?"
The van fishtails across the muddy road on the valley floor. We have steamed up the inside of the van so can't see the mist shrouded hills. We have lunch in the car. Toya cooks up rice, eggs and tomatoes using a gas burner placed on the floor of the van. The rain continues to fall, and there is no wind to blow the clouds away. We reach Batshireet village mid afternoon. This is a Buriat village, one of Mongolia's minority cultural groups. They live in wooden cabins, instead of gers, and have a reputation for fighting hard, partying hard and generally living life to the full. We are quite close to the Russian border here. The town is made up of log cabins, on a sunny day this town might be pretty. Today after three days of rain, it is wet and miserable. The others get out of the van and wander. I can't be bothered with the cold and wet. We are supposed to camp here tonight.
Despite the rain the landscape has been ok, kind of like Gipplsand (Victoria, Australia) on a a bigger scale. We have seen masses of wild flowers but it has been too wet to get out and enjoy them. I hope the weather clears up soon. The girl's are travelling well, though Keira just asked me when we were going home. Toya decided we needed to sleep inside tonight. So we drove to a cabin with two gers next to it. After a long discussion Toya decided against these gers as they had no stoves. Parked off to one side was an older model BMW. A youngish foreign man emerged from a ger, followed by an attractive young Mongolian woman. Off to the side, surrounded by nothing but grass, was a floral arch. Turns out there was a wedding there a few days earlier between a Russian man and Mongolian woman. Perhaps they were stuck here until the roads dried up - some honeymoon.
We kept on driving until we came to three gers set up by the river. After a quick chat Toya announced that we would sleep in one of these gers. We were ushered inside. It was set up for cooking, with a dirt floor. There was a huge plastic vat of cow's milk vodka quietly brewing next to the stove, accompanied by a giant uncovered pot of yogurt doing its thing with bacteria multiplication. Bits of drying fatty meat were hanging from strings tied to the ger rafters. Among this domestic bliss were three beds that the five of us would share (me, Chris, Sallymae, Alesia and Keira). The family were sitting down to eat their evening meal (they eat early so there is time to milk all the cows afterwards), so we were offered Buriat bread (like a big sourdough) spread with fresh cream, sprinkled with sugar. It was delicious. We were also offered traditional Mongolian noodles with mutton and a few vegies. The family then got on with their chores and left us to entertain ourselves.
Alesia trying not to get dizzy from the vodka fumes coming out of that big blue plastic vat
The rain finally stopped. We wandered along the river, collecting pretty rocks. Later I got out some books to read to Keira. There are a few children in this family, but I am not really sure who belongs to whom. A 9 year old boy was keen to see the books and looked through all of them eagerly (Fancy Nancy comes to Henti!). The family asked if we would like to experience a Mongolian hotpot meal. We agreed, so they rounded up the goats and selected the lucky one. He must have figured things out because he ate through the tether at least twice. Chris and Alesia helped herd the goats (well we think they were helping), while the ladies of the house milked the family cows. They milk about 15 cows by hand each day. They get the cows to come for milking by locking up the calves in a pen. When the cows come to feed the calves they put the cows in the pen but keep the calves separate. Once they have finished milking a cow they open the calf pen and in runs the calf straight to its mother for a feed. At one point the fence separating the pens was knocked down and about four calves ran straight to their mothers. The two women then spent 10 minutes forcing them separate again.
No, this is not the goat cooked up for dinner...
After watching the milking Chris and the girls played games with a big stick. Keira did some great victory dances. The toilets here are a bit risky, possibly the worst I have used in Mongolia. They are an open pit, with two beams of wood put over the top. There is no shelter, just a bit of rag strung up between two sticks so when you squat you face the open steppe, and the people at the gers behind you can just see your head. The whole structure is very wobbly so we all had to be very careful getting on and off it. Alesia needed to do No. 2. She took one look at the "toilet" and said "The poo has gone back inside".
At 8:45pm the hot pot is finally started. They burn the fur off the goat with a blow torch, then use sharp knives to cut up the flesh. They put key organs in a bowl. Chris takes Alesia over to see the heart and lungs. Alesia pronounces that the heart does not look like a heart. Pop goes another childhood belief....At 10pm both girls have been asleep for a long time. We are sitting in one of the other gers, watching the hot pot bubble (a bit stainless steel milk can). I am really tired. Kids are playing on the floor at my feet, some clearly as tired as I am. They were planning to do this tomorrow, but our arrival brought the plans forward. They ask us questions (how old are you? what work do you do?) and Toya translates.
Finally at 11pm the hot pot is opened. Rocks (from the river), goat bits and whole potatoes (for me) get ladled out. Hot pot seems to be a man thing, as mostly men have been involved in the cooking. A huge platter is set before Chris, me and Sallymae. Another platter is put on the floor and the Mongolian horde descends. Everyone is eating with gusto. My goat flavoured potato is quiet good. it is considered healthy to toss the hot greasy rocks in your hands. Chris, Sallymae and Toya join the kids tossing rocks from hand to hand. Sallymae yells out, as the rocks are really hot. Chris tries to look cool but says his hands are burning. We excuse ourselves and go to bed. Unusually no vodka has been consumed, and the rest of the families go to bed soon after us. Chris, Keira and me are sharing the equivalent of a King single bed. We are so tired we fall asleep immediately. The rain has stopped.
