A few weeks ago while walking across town with some fifth grade friends of mine, one of them just out of the blue told me that she knew what my dog’s name was.
Me: Really? What is her name?
Tulai: SANTI-NO!
Augh. That’s my Santi. Always in trouble.
Stories have it that if you had stepped on a ger door stoop in Chinggis’ day you would have been put to death. While the punishment is not quite that severe these days it is still not encouraged. But I can’t help but love this picture.
Welcome!
Walking the dog in America was a pretty mundane activity-not far from what you think it would be. Put the dog on the leash, walk down a street, up another, stop to sniff things, stop to pick up dog poo, and see other people walking dogs. Sometimes you might even see a squirrel or cat to bark at. Pretty routine stuff.
As I have been in charge of walking the dog this week while Brian is in Ulaanbaatar I have found myself comparing American dog walking, see above, to Mongolian dog walking. Walking the dog here means putting the leash on the dog, walking 20 seconds until you have reached the edge of town, and then letting the dog off the leash to go absolutely crazy. We tend to play two different games while walking. The first one is called “Don’t eat that” and is usually played by Santi eating something (often produced by man if you know what I mean) and me yelling “don’t eat that” while I throw rocks at her. Variations on the game include “don’t touch that sack, I have no idea what is in it”, “stay away from the outhouse” and “camels can kill with one kick so get over here.” The other game we play, which involves Santi practicing her smelling and licking abilities, is called “Whose skull was that?” So far we have identified a horse, camel, dog, and sheep skull. The sheep head was extra glorious and came with an “option to roll in.” Walking the dog in Mongolia means lots more times yelling “put down that vertebrae” but also means never having to pick up a poo.
And when you get home in Mongolia your dog gets to chew on a camel bone the size of a small child. American dogs should be so lucky!
On the trail of a camel? A goat? Some exciting dung?
Chasing baby camels is so much fun!
A rare moment of repose.
Look at that cute face!
Yesterday, along with our furniture, we picked up Darkhuu’s great nephew Delgermuron. “Muron” is seven and going into the second grade, and he is one of the most inquisitive little kids we have ever met. He loves animals and the minute he got out of the car he had become best friends with Santiago and a very gentle admirer of Nigel.
Muron, Santi, and Nigel playing with the Ipad
For the next 48 hours Muron basically lived with us showing up in the morning while we were still in our pajamas and only leaving in the evening when we gave him the boot. Unlike many of my past English students he picked up “Come on”, “No”, and “Sit” in about a nano second and took it upon himself to be in charge of Santi’s walks and playtimes.
When Muron was not playing with the dog, he was pestering Brian with hundreds of questions such as “Do you think that crack was there a long time or did the earthquake do it?” (While passing an old building in town). Brian convinced him that we don’t know English, and when he doesn’t understand us that we are speaking “Special Mongolian” which he would not learn until he went to college. He also told Muron that he had “Super eyes” that can see everything including things going on in the next town.
Perhaps the best part of Muron’s visit was that he started going around town and, all on his own accord, started telling people that I was his mom. This caused no end of hilarity especially when people pointed out that his father must have been Mongolian and what did Brian think of it all? It was great having him around and based on his love of Santi I think we will be seeing lots of him on the weekends.