Saturday at the Black Market

 Payphone Service

Myself cooking in a new camel wool sweater

Lost in translation moment of the week:
I explained to my host mother (in attempted Mongolian) that I was going to the market to buy a wool sweater... or so I thought. Turns out I confused the word for bugger or snot for wool (which sound strikingly similar to me). It did make for a good laugh.

My host family shared with me a few of their photo albums full of striking old black and whites.

Monke egchee's mother pregnant with her first child. Also in the picture is a friend of the family (left) and the father (right). 

On a side note, calling someone by the first half of their name followed by older sister/ brother (egchee/ akhaa) is a respectful form, similar to Mrs or Mr. Was not familiar with this until my first week, but fortunately my host family is understanding of such differences.

Munkejargal (my host mom) the youngest in the picture

Tsevendorg (host father)

Tsevendorj (bottom right) during his mandatory service in the military

Tsevendorj

Tseven akh and Monke egch on their wedding day. Notice that the family is already in the process of growing to three.

At several points during the wedding the couple drink out of a silver bowl wrapped in a prayer flag.

Mongolian Barbecue Party

 My host Mom received an honorary award for her service as a librarian and decided to celebrate with a trip to a resort on the outskirts of the city. What better way to celebrate than a combination of friends, vodka, and horhog (Mongolian barbecue and not the Taiwanese kind!).

 Monkejargal the day before her celebration

 The first of many a toast being given by Tsevendorj (My host father)

The making of horhog:

+ One sheep

+ A few onions

+ Red-hot rocks and time

 Salt to taste

 Add a few rocks to cook the meat

 A steamy process

 A couple hours of pressure cooking and its ready to open.

 The still fiery hot rocks are used to warm the hands and placed on ailing points on the body.

 The finished product. Delicious!

One sheep down and countless songs sung, it was time to head home.

Gandan Monestary

Monks in prayer

 Turning of prayer wheels. Clockwise only (motion of sun when oriented to the south).

 85ft high statue of an enlightened being

A chilly afternoon on the steppe

20's and windy may not be prime time for horse riding but still made for a nice afternoon. Never realized how happy a bowl of hot mutton soup in a  warm ger after a few hours on horseback could make me feel.

 Fellow riders

Zaya

Puujee in usual form

Khustai National Park

 Managed to get in these two pics of the wildlife... then my battery died. oops!

A future dream dog, the Mongolian Mastiff, This guy was HUGE.

Myself on the left, odno on the right