Day 223: At home with the nomads

After re-packing (we moved everything we didn't immediately need into Kate's pack and left it at the hostel) and having a very cold shower, we went downstairs and met our guide, Otgontuul (Tuul for short), our driver, Nyama, and our super-cool Russian van. After throwing everything into the back of the van we hit the road, Nyama skilfully navigating his way through the busy streets of UB and out to a nice, shiny supermarket on the edge of the city where we stocked up on supplies for us and gifts for our hosts.

We then drove out into the countryside, the tightly packed communities of fenced-off compounds - each with a ger or two, and some with a small building as well – giving way to rolling hills of dry yellow-brown grass. We made a couple of quick stops along the way – once to wonder at a long line of brightly clothed walkers and then for a quick bit of duct-tape repairs on the van's accelerator pedal. Our next stop was at the enormous stainless steel statue of Chinggis Khan – the world's tallest statue of a man on a horse. Inside the statue's plinth were some interesting museums, the world largest boot (I think it's a size 924) and the world's largest horse whip. There was also an elevator that took us up to a viewing platform on the horse's head, where we got some great views of the surrounding countryside. 

A little further along the road, Nyama took us off-roading, driving up to the top of a hill for lunch. While he and Tuul set up a table and chairs and laid out a wonderful spread of food, we kicked around the football they'd thoughtfully brought with them. When it came time to eat, we were joined by a few stray dogs that sat quietly nearby and looked longingly at our food. 

Back on the road, we drove through more of the same dry countryside, making another unscheduled stop when Nyama spotted some people gathered around a newborn kid – so new that the mother was still trailing the umbilical cord behind her. Not much further on we left the tarmac and headed into the hills, passing under the railway line that will take us to Beijing in a bit more than a week's time. We also stopped at a lake to check out the birdlife and then to see huge flock of sheep and goats being tended by a young man on a horse, and some delightfully shaggy yaks.

Not long after that we reached the camp that would be our home for the next two nights – three gers, some animal pens and a pit toilet. After being greeted by our hosts, we were shown to the ger in which we would be spending the next two nights, and then ushered into our host family's other ger (we were going to be sleeping in their main ger; the other belonged to another family, which we ended up seeing only rarely). Inside, we were all given our first bowls of hot Mongolian 'tea' – essentially vaguely tea-flavoured milk – a staple here and an integral part of Mongolian hospitality. I managed to finish mine, but Kate and the girls really weren't keen and just took the few sips necessary to avoid being rude.

Our host family consisted of a husband and wife and their six-year-old daughter (their other children were in UB attending school). The wife is a ranger in the nearby Gun Galuut Nature Reserve, which we'll be visiting tomorrow. Through Tuul, she told us the story of how she had come to be the ranger. Apparently, when she was young, she had taken great delight in killing her way through a swathe of the local wildlife. As she got older, she was so overcome by guilt at her juvenile carnage that she vowed to do something to balance things out, so she studied conservation at university and came out to look after the nature reserve and teach the locals not to do as she had done.

As this was our first introduction to a working ger (rather randomly, we once stayed in a genuine ger during a trip to France), we were fascinated to see how they worked. As they are the family's home, they are bedroom, kitchen and store room. At the centre is a cast-iron stove with a chimney that goes up through a central opening at the top of the ger. The stoves, which are fuelled with a mixture of wood and dried cow dung, both heat the gers and are used for cooking. A central plate can be removed and a wok-like pan placed in the hole. The fire makes the ger baking hot when it's burning but the dung and wood burn incredibly quickly, so not long after you go to bed, the temperature can drop pretty quickly, despite the excellent insulation provided by the felt walls. At night, light is provided by bare bulbs that are powered by big batteries that store electricity provided by big solar panels attached to the roof of the ger.

As soon as they were allowed, the girls rushed out to play with the numerous lambs and kids in a pen outside. Meanwhile, I helped to make dinner – rolling out dough for some 'pancakes' and then taking a turn at cooking them in a wok of hot oil. Unfortunately, I was given very little instruction, so did everything wrong the first time, but eventually got the hang of things and I think I was of some help in the end. Mongolian nomad cuisine is pretty basic, revolving around flour, water, salt, either dried or fresh meat (either goat or mutton) and root vegetables such as carrots and potatoes, occasionally livened up some cabbage or onion. For dinner tonight we had mutton soup, accompanied by the rather nice fried pancakes I had helped to make earlier. 

In between the food prep and dinner, I spent a bit of time wandering around photographing the countryside, which is bare but dramatic. Just behind the camp is a huge pile of rough stones, surrounded by a rectangular perimeter made up of more stones. This, we were told is an ancient burial mound – several thousand years old – one of several in the area.