The first night there were six of us sleeping in Erkaa's ger. Me in one bed (boss!) and Amaarsanaa in the other bed (our sometimes cranky old driver). The other four people slept side-by-side on thick felt mats on the floor, huddled under sleeping bags, quilts and warm deels. Erkaa has an old incandescent bulb which gives the ger a warm coziness at night. Before sleeping the men watched a kind of Mongolian military soap opera sit com. We went to sleep at midnight, when the generator was turned off for the town and the small black and white television in the corner went silent and the single light bulb went dark. During the night at least two people snored but with the bodies so close I couldn't pick who it was. It was -6 overnight, with a sharp frost. A 8am Erkaa stirred, got up, put away her bedding , sliced kindling for the fire with a sharp knife and got some water boiling. All normal stuff, but fascinating for me to watch, peering out of the top of my sleeping bag.
Slurping
I have noticed that I am not a good slurper. Mongolians slurp their tea and their soup magnificently. At one meal with Erkaa the two drivers, agronomist, Bek, Erkaa and her son were all simultaneously slurping noodle I was the only one eating quietly. A few days later I was in Uliastai, eating noddles again (not soup this time) with two cooperative members and Bek. Three of us were not slurping the fried noodles, but the youngest cooperative member was fascinating to watch. He leaned down, his face so close to his plate that his nose almost touched it. He used his fork to push the noodles towards his mouth, then opened his mouth and slurped them up as efficiently as a vacuum cleaner. I couldn't help it. I just watched him eat, listened to the slurp and eventually had to take a picture!
