Bayankhongor Nights

Really it's nothing of the sort - not that there aren't nights (see picture above, which preceded a night), but not like the boogie ones. I haven't written my wrap-up on this homestay yet, but it was much improved from the one in Dadal. I mean, I was living in a ger! My family was on the tale end of their winter pasture. (Usually they move 5-6 times per year.) My mother: Mjidorj. My father: Baatar. My brother: Batorgil. My 2-year old relative next door: Sumo! He looks like Davaadorj, one of the two really solid Mongolian sumo wrestlers right now.

Maybe I'll be able to offer some more engaging reflection later, but I've been fairly unreflective lately. That's part of the lack of blog postings, and probably related to some of my hesitations about this here program. Another day, another day. Isn't that a nice silhouette, though? Credit Emily Terrin. We did lots of herding. I am a master with the wooden staff, and I milk goats like, well, not terribly. I'm having trouble getting my photos onto my camera, so I'm relying on others' for now.