For some people who were brought up living sedentary lives, the urge to travel is irresistible. I think that I am one of those people. I have long maintained that this desire stems from an undeniable fire within the souls of each and every one of us that compels us to search out new experiences in order to better ourselves as human beings. Mind you, it has been mentioned on occasion that maybe I simply have commitment issues that make me incapable of settling down anywhere for any sustained length of time. It’s a close call… probably a murky mix of the two if I’m honest.
Second only to my love of travelling is probably my love of camping and the outdoors, so our return to the roaming lifestyle of Mongolia this week has renewed my zest for life no end. Last time we were here, these vast plains were glazed with an icy white patina and the nights were long and painfully cold. Today, we are camped by a stream amidst a luxuriant green panorama, wearing shorts and factor 30 sun cream on our pink noses. We’re here to spend some time with a family of nomadic horse herders as they tend to their herd, breaking in the new foals and reaping the rewards of this lush summer landscape.
A few days ago, our family of rosy cheeked travellers arrived. A pickup drove up and out popped a party of beaming faces. Huge smiles and eleven warm handshakes later, the family set to work at unpacking their worldly possessions.
Here’s what happened…
Here in the Blue River valley, it is quite common for our Mongolian friends to spontaneously burst into song. On this particular occasion, for this clip I recorded a rendition of a folk ditty called Scenery of My Country sung as we sat together sharing food in the family ger. Here’s a translation…
Our gers look so beautiful
Seen from a distance
Is this the scenery of the country I was born in?
There are many gers as white as milk
Decorating the animals’ pasture
Is this my mother who always wished good luck for me?
. . .
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