Day 12 February 24th Nomad Camp
We merged in the morning to a crisp, chilly, snow covered sunny day and decided on a walk through the impressive rock formations behind the Gers before heading off.
First stop of the day was a tiny Aryaval Buddhist Meditation centre and monastery built high on a rockface in the hills. At this time of year studded with snow. So cold that rather than shoes off entering the temple there were shoe covers. A beautiful feeling of peace within the temple and lovely spot to meditate. Tended by a man who comes throughout winter.
A further 3 hour journey towards the Nomad camp we would overnight. Several stops and interesting driving over trackless terrain and small winding tracks across snow covered hills, along with a slightly disconcerting drive across frozen rivers and lakes to find an elusive bridge. All leading to Chris deciding we had lost the Nomads. I remained calmer than I might otherwise having already seen the skill of Shimidee.
After re-routing around the river we eventually spotted small white dots under a hillside and finally came to the camp. The camp was the winter home of a small family – mother, father, son with other children and grandchildren living in Ulan Bataar and beyond. We were greeted by the woman of the house in black boots and a stylish fitting blue dress, with none of the endless layers we were wearing. Her husband came in weather-worn and crinkled.
What followed was lunch with traditional mares milk tea, Khuuschuur – fried dumplings a big hit with Chris and Buuz – already a favourite dish we had discovered on the train. In a serving dish there was also a selection of staples – curd, cheese and small milk delicacies of lightly fried milk studded with raisins.
A ride on the local Mongolian horses was offered, I declined but Chris set off with Tebo after a start the was like a short comedy sketch as Chris tried to settle in the typical (narrow) Mongolian saddle. Chris said later he nearly castrated himself in the process. While called Mongolian horses they are more what we would call ponies – some a bit wilder than others, multi-coloured and all sturdy and hard working. The horses were tethered to the railing of a small pen where black faced sheep with several lambs were housed.
Afterwards a walk up the hills behind us gaining views forever over flat lands dotted with cows, goats and sheep across to surrounding hills. By the time we returned the herds of animals were shepherded back near the Gers for the night by a young man in his early teens.
The family were preparing for Mongolian New Year and despite their isolation were expecting over 100 people to visit for feasting over the holiday. It was our hosts favourite time welcoming and feeding guests. We watched a lamb and then cow breast carefully prepared and steamed over the cenral fire. Over 1,000 Borz – meat dumplings had already been cooked and frozen.
Despite our offers to share Tebo and Shimidee slept in the main Ger with all the family leaving us to our own Ger with the fire tended for us throughout the night. Our Ger was similar to others we saw – multi-sided felt and canvas tied around the outside to secure it. With a wooden door and internally multiple wooden poles supporting the structure. Colourful rugs on the floor and 4 beds around the outside with hand-made woollen quilts.
