The second part of Terelj

Continuing through Terelj National Park . . .

Part of the experience on the tour was to visit one of the local families in their ger. Now, it's true, there is a certain level of artifice to the entire experience, but it was better than staying in the ger camp, which was entirely artificial.

The family had at least five children, and for some reason, there was an old school bus parked in their camp. (I was about to say 'on their property' - except they don't actually have "property" as we understand it).

So while we waited in the car for our guide to negotiate the terms of our visit, three of the children hid in the bus, popping out episodically to scream, "Hello!", after which they would hide in the bus again. I ducked below the window in the car for awhile, until my travelling companion told me they were looking for me.

After awhile, we were invited inside the ger. The father started up the fire in the stove in the middle of the tent, and then everyone went outside for a bit. From time to time, the younger sister would open the door, lean in and scream "Hello!" and then slam the door and run away. After about the third time, I crept over to the door so I was in the doorway when she opened the door. When she saw me, she ran away screaming.

There she is, the little rascal.

More children arrived on horseback. That's the older sister hiding behind her mother.

 

Some children in Mongolia are naturally blonde.

Assorted dairy made at the camp. Yoghurt at bottom, something like butter at middle (not quite churned enough to be butter, I think), and in the bowl, dried yoghurt. After making the yoghurt, they would spread it out on a surface until it dried. It was terrible. I highly recommend it.

Nomadic families tend to have herds--usually horses, cattle, yak, or sheep.

Eventually, we left to visit other sites at the park. As we drove off, the children chased us, shouting "Goodbye!" Our guide was impressed. "They really like you!"

Turtle Rock

Yellow

Not far away is the Aryabal Meditation Centre, an old Buddhist monastery about half-way up a hill

Rock paintings at the Meditation Centre.

You can spin the wheel of fortune, and get a number. Then you wander along the path looking for the aphorism that goes with your number.

Spinning prayer wheels is a common practice at the centre, but I'm not convinced people are really praying.

There were people praying inside. As in most Buddhist temples, there were central icons, and numerous arhats on the walls.

View from the monastery