Land of rapidly changing opinions

Day: 312

Sunrise:
05:10

Sunset:
21:29

Total kilometers:
1361

Soil condition:
Grass

Temperature – Day (maximum):
5°C

Temperature – day (minimum):
0°C

Temperature – Night:
minus 7°C

Latitude:
51°39’155”

Longitude:
099°21’977”

Maximum height:
1858 m above sea level

Rain lashes against the tarpaulin of the tipi. Barely recovered from the restless sleep, I open my eyes and gaze at the drops that are slowly winding their way along the retracted canvas and falling unabashedly onto my sleeping bag. I get up stolidly, wipe the fabric of the sleeping bag dry with a cloth and set about securing the tipi. Two hours later, everything is mopped up, the canvas tents are back in position and the stove is fired up. As soon as my tipi is homely again, all the children from the camp invade my dwelling. 12 children between the ages of 3 and 14 makes my tent almost burst at the seams. They laugh and giggle, stand bent over because of the sloping tent or sit on Bilgee’s bed or the floor. They look at me expectantly. I realize that this is certainly not a decent visit. The little Tuwas are keen on sweets. Even if I had some, it would be a gross mistake to serve them to my young guests. It’s bad for your teeth,” I say in German when the bravest of them pulls himself together and asks for presents. Since they don’t understand me, they laugh. Then they all rush back out into the rainy day. Dismayed, I look at the floor that I had just cleaned so painstakingly. Everything completely messed up again. Once again I clean the dirt as best I can with a cloth that is also brimming with dirt.

Tanja comes back to Sar in the late afternoon. Of course, Od can no longer be found. Bilgee is convinced that the thief is using him to search for jade. “It’s good not to have lost the other horses either,” I say again, as it would have been no problem to take the rest of the mounts with us in Bilgee’s absence. “Bilgee rode into the winter camp this morning and tried to reach the policeman from Tsagaan Nuur. But without getting anyone on the line,” says Tanja. “I would have been surprised too,” I reply dryly. “I’m not coming alone, by the way,” Tanja continues. “Saraa will be here in a few minutes.” “Saraa?” I ask in surprise. “Yes, she’s bringing two tourists to the Tuwa camp. Our horsewoman Delimuren is also coming. They’re all riding their horses.” “The horsewoman? That’s great. Then I can talk to her today,” I say.

The reunion with Saraa is a warm one. According to her, she is booked with tourist trips for the next three months, i.e. from June to August, and will hardly have time for us if we need anything from her. Not even to extend our visa. I try to take the negative news in my stride and move on to the next construction site. Delimuren is indeed a strong woman who comes across as competent and likeable. With Sara’s help, I immediately talk to her about our horse journey together. “I can’t leave my three children alone for more than 10 days. That means I won’t be accompanying you. Besides, you pay far too little. I get 10,000 (€5.71) tugrik per horse and 15,000 tugrik (€8.57) per day for myself. That means I get 55,000 or 60,000 Tugrik per day. (31,- € to 34,- €) So I make in five days what you pay me for a month,” I hear in dismay. I don’t even need to mention the argument of long-term employment during the tourist season. “Well then, I guess our trip together won’t work out,” I say. “Tijmee,” is the terse but firm reply without the slightest attempt to negotiate with me. Minutes later, I tell Tanja about the outcome of my conversation. “And I thought she really wanted to go?” she says. “Maybe she didn’t realize how long the expedition would be and where it would go?” I say. “From the sound of it, Bilgee translated everything,” Tanja replies. “Well, let’s not forget, we are in the land of rapidly changing opinions. I think Delimuren has had other bookings in the meantime and so we are no longer of interest.

In the evening, Shagai visits us and swears at Bilgee. “Your horseman is no good. He has chosen a bad pasture for your horses. Jade seekers, hunters and other travelers pass by there. No wonder your horse was stolen. Besides, you shouldn’t have wintered your horses in Mörön, but here in the taiga.” Tanja and I look at each other in surprise. “Shagai, it was you who warned us not to winter the horses in the taiga. They will all be eaten by wolves. You explicitly warned us about Saraa. That was the reason why we brought the horses back to Mörön. And if you knew Bilgee’s feeding ground was dangerous, why didn’t you tell him? Now we don’t need your warning anymore. We now know that the place is not the safest,” Tanja replies, to which Shagai just shrugs his shoulders and grins.

When Shagai has gone, Tsaya visits us. Bilgee has caught fish at a sacred lake. He is not allowed to do that. The Tuwas speak of impending disaster if you fish there,” she says. “And that’s why Od was stolen from us? Perhaps as a punishment?” asks Tanja. Tsaya confirms with a nod.

When we are alone again, we discuss whether it wouldn’t be better to send Bilgee back to spring camp. “It could be that we’ll annoy him for the last few days,” I think. “Are they our horses or not?” asks Tanja. “We’ll be breaking down the tents here in the foreseeable future. I don’t know if it makes sense to oppose Bilgee’s campsite.” “A lot can happen in the remaining days. He sleeps in this dilapidated wooden hut, shares his sleeping space with rats that I have seen myself and entertains passing travelers with our food. Maybe he’d like to come back to the spring camp?” Tanja ponders. “Apart from that, he can’t possibly keep an eye on the horses all night. He has to sleep sometimes. I think we should ask him to come back to camp anyway,” I am now convinced. “Well, since I know where his camp is and you don’t, I’ll ride out tomorrow and get him.” “Looks like you’re turning into our expedition’s courier rider,” I joke.

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