It rained on and off during the night. At 7am it was raining solidly. We are ending our trip how it started - wet. Our noisy neighbours over the water packed up quickly and left early. Chris taught Toya how to make French Toast from the dry bread and we had a yummy breakfast sitting in the car. The rain stopped and Toya started washing every piece of cooking equipment. So we have been filling time while she cleans - I would expect this should happen after we get home but perhaps her bosses expect everything to be done in the field. The girls are having fun drawing faces in the sand with sticks. With Sallymae's help they draw the entire family tree. The girls have discovered their voices echo off the rocky cliff on the other side of the river, so they are making many noises. Toya and Baabaa join in and we have a cacophony of echos.
On the way home we visit an isolated monument to Natsagdorj, a Mongolian poet who lived from 1906 to 1937. Toya's father is a poet, so she wanted to find his monument. We had to ask directions three times. His poems cover a variety of topics including patriotic, revolutionary, educatory, cognitive and love romance. A tragic love story "The Three Sad Hills" (music by Damdinsüren and Smirnoff) became one of the most popular operas of Mongolia. The Opera House in Ulan Bator starts and finishes each year of its programme with this opera. There is also a ballet of the same story. Alesia and I attended the final performance this year. I didn't realise it was a tragedy, until right near the end it became clear that everyone was going to die - the princess by dramatically falling on a sword. Alesia wanted to know if the sword was real!
On the way back into town we stopped off at the latest tourist attraction - a giant statue of Genghis Khan. He is seated on a horse, checking out the horizon. Sallymae paid for us all to go inside. We walked into a flash lobby, complete with chandeliers. A group of important Mongolian's was having a civilised lunch in restaurant, their Lexus' parked outside. We were lovely and grotty from seven days in the countryside, so felt very out of place. We took the lift up to a room in the belly of the horse and watched a short video on how they built the statue. Then we climbed up the horses mane and peaked out over the top.
The storm that was to kill 24 people in Mongolia later that day was brewing and the winds were wicked. I think I am getting too old for heights, especially when both the girls were trying to peer over the edge to see down. We took some photos and then headed back inside.
We are all looking forward to hot showers, but in a way I am sorry to get back to email (and cooking). At the time we wondered whether seven days was too long, but now in hindsight Chris and I agree that we had a wonderful trip, the girls learned many things and we experienced a different part of Mongolia....but we probably won't go camping for a while now!
