Into the Mysteries of the Mongolian Night

My guide, my driver & I headed toward Hastai National Park, where I was to stay in a tent on the steppes for two nights. First there was an hour fleeing the choking yellow city sky, which turned hallucinogenic at sunset. I breathed into my scarf, trying to inhale as reservedly as possible, while my eyes streamed from the pollution. Finally the air began to clear. The driver & my earnest, soft-spoken guide talked long & hard in Mongolian, like easy old friends. Sometimes the driver sang along with a local song on the radio. I understood nothing, but it felt like an old sense memory of sitting in the back seat as a child, in a too-warm car, riding at night through unknown territory, listening to the deep tones of a father & an uncle...not mine, but someone's....

A sweet little scene.

Except that I had eaten nothing that day. The Mongolian dining car on the Trans-Siberian railway, which was coupled onto the train at the border of China & Mongolia at the same time the Chinese dining car was dropped off, was beautifully appointed. But apparently not serving. Nor had I had any water. Or peed. 

At last we veered off the highway onto a dirt road, really a no-road. A road-ish road...dirt + rocks + frozen clumps of grass + chunks of ice. Thus ensued one more hour of driving, that is to say, thundering, bouncing, jouncing, rocking, roaring, tilting into the utter black of night. Once a group of white ghost horses appeared in the headlights, briefly, then faded to black. 

At last there loomed ahead a blue Welcome sign at the campground & a sprinkling of ger tents & a massive, arching, sparking night sky. My kidneys were in the back seat somewhere, my bladder in my boots, my stomach in my mouth, my nose full of grit, my eyes full of wonder & lo it was dinner time. Beef slivers, rice, beets, & sweet tea. We three ate together, with lots of slurping as background music. Upon finishing, my guide licked his plate clean, to which I say let us retire to our ancient Mongolian tents...goodnight, sweet dreams, & may all the clean, clean stars of Mongolia shine upon you.