Sleeping in my ger has been a delight. It reminds me of living on a boat, the tent billows in the wind and there also a breeze constantly drifting across the wooden floor. The rain hits the canvas at night and sends me to sleep. There is a cute mouse that pokes it's head in from outside and occasionally musters the courage to run across the floor. It will be considerably less cute if it gets into my food but until that day, cute away mouse.
The first night in the ger though was a surprise. Returning from the Khorkhog, I was a little tipsy and keen to hit bed. I very elegantly walked into my ger, turned the light on and begun the bed proceedings. One thing I had yet to learn about Mongolian gers was that there is a no knock, just enter approach to visiting people. Within five minutes of returning home, I turned around to find my ger filled with my delightful Mongolian-only speaking neighbours, including their three year old grand daughter. There is normally pretty clear procedure on welcoming someone into your ger, even if they appear unannounced. Offer them tea, a variety of Mongolian dairy products and lollies. This is done with everyone, everytime and ensures there is no speedy popping in to borrow a cup of sugar. At this point, I was in no state to proceed with this protocol, I managed to smile a lot and find a clip on kangaroo for the three year old. They eventually seemed to believe I would survive there alone and bid me good night or in Mongol, bayartai. I recovered my poor form in the following weeks. I also got very good at locking my door as a wide range of surprise visitors continued to appear.
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