It is 5:41 a.m. here and I just saw Sheila off to the airport from the PC Office. Her flight to Beijing is at 7:30, we hope. Several of my friends have met with flight delays -- one missed her connecting flight to India in Beijing and had to buy a new ticket at her own expense. Air China apparently isn't so accommodating with such things.

Anyway we had a pretty good last 10 days. Sheila and I have lived near each other for our two years and so, for better or worse, have spent a lot of time together. We decided to tie it all together with a trip out west and so we organized a tour through the UB Guesthouse.

So from June 4 - 12 we were traveling through Khar Khorin, White Lake, Hovsgol and other beautiful places in the western mountains of Mongolia. The scenery was so beautiful and so different from the eastern flatlands that I have come to know so well.

White Lake especially was amazing. We stayed in a ger camp there with an incredibly hospitable family. We asked if it would be possible to cook Khorhok (traditional Mongolian pot o' meat) and this is how it went down:

We arrived at the lake at 8 p.m. and settled in, immediately asking about the meat. Our host said he'd be more than happy to make Khorhok but wait...it was Monday night. Can't kill animals on Tuesdays because it is an important day in Buddhism/shamanism. However, if you're game we can go buy the goat now and kill and clean it tonight.

So Sheila and I jumped in the car, bringing our Swiss volunteer friend who has been in Mongolia 6 months, and Matilda, our British friend who traveled through Mongolia once and returned recently to work because she missed it so much. We left the other three members of our party behind -- two travelers and one freelancer who has been here for a bit as well.

We drove along the edge of the lake until we found a herder's camp and we pulled in to visit and buy a goat. The herders were more than happy to provide us with a big fat lady goat for about $40. Split amongst us all that would make for a nicely priced gourmet meal.

We brought the poor goat back in the car and our hosts made short work of it -- the slaughtering process here is quick and clean. They stun the goat quickly, make an incision in the underbelly, reach in and with one deft movement shut off the heart. Our worthy animal barely made a sound.

It took about an hour or a little more to skin the goat and wash the insides, so the camp hosts did not retire until well after midnight. But everyone involved was excited about the next day when we would prepare the picnic.

So we started the cooking around 11 Tuesday morning. The children collected rocks while the men built a fire and the women prepared the intestines. The rocks went on the fire to heat and then in a large pot with the meat, more rocks and some potatoes, turnips, onions and carrots. They filled the pot with water and sealed it tight. 45 minutes later the meal was ready.

All this may sound strange to you but it is delicious. It's one of the few occassions in Mongolia when food has taste. The meat simmers in its own fatty juices and comes out rich and ready. Everyone in our party seemed to enjoy it, though the tourists were a bit surprised at the gusto with which Sheila and I ate/drank the fat. Bridgitte, our Swiss friend, asked me this:

"Did you just eat that slab of fat?"

I looked at the bone in my hand, at Sheila, and shrugged. She was gnawing on hers as heartily as I on mine. Maybe we have been here a long time...

Anyway the meal was tasty and we all gave thanks to the goat who gave it to us.

Even after two years, Sheila and I were more than happy to relinquish the intestine soup to the host family as payment for all their assistance. Even as we were enjoying our meal we could hear them laughing and savouring their own. To a Mongolian, the glory is in the guts.

There are many other enchanting tales from our trip but I will save those for when I see you.

For now have a look at the photos!

http://carrieinmongolia.shutterfly.com

password is Mongolia

Take care everyone!