Gana's Farm

Two hours by train outside of Ulaanbaatar, we were picked up by a man named Gana who was our host of an overnight stay in the country to give the nomadic lifestyle a go. Gana was waiting at the train station smiling and as soon as we arrived we got into his van and headed for the farm. Knowing how to make quick friends, he stopped on the way and picked up a large bottle of beer to pass around the car on the way. Gana didn't think twice about slugging back some suds himself, unworried about drinking and driving on the numerous dirt paths leading through the valleys.
On the way this man stopped us and his friend hopped in the van, just hitching a ride to the next village over. These valleys are only populated by about 1,000 people who live in clans spread thinly over the vast countryside. Horse, goats, sheep, and cattle roamed freely around and I assume the locals had some understanding of ownership but it was a mystery to me.
This was our yurt, our home for the night. As you can see, it was a little short for Peter's taste, but he could stand up in the middle of it without hitting his head. Inside there was only three beds, a small table and a short stove.
Also on the property was this house owned by Gana's cousin. Everyone was Gana's cousin. Any question of who posed to Gana was answered by, "my cousin." Eventually I just stopped asking questions about who owned this, who that was, or how he knew people. Though a small family lived in this house, most of the people in the area lived in yurts.
Inside our yurt, Gana's nephew (aside from cousins, Gana also had a wife, a son, and a nephew) Puche showed us his thick book of drawings. The kid has incredible natural talent for drawing and painting. Sadly, there's not much of a career that could come out of it. He spends most of his time in UB but will most likely spend his years working here on the farm.
Gana's holds their sun in her warm robe. She was an incredibly kind person who cooked our meals of rice, potatoes, and mutton.
All the local kids were extremely friendly and once they saw a couple of their pictures on my camera they posed tirelessly for more pictures. They constantly smiled, loved to play games together and tried their best to speak some English to me.
Here the kids played a game where they clapped at each other's hands. I didn't understand it exactly, but when someone lost they had to kiss the person next to them on the cheek. In the back ground some older kids played basketball on a dirt court with a makeshift backboard.

Gana didn't worry about entertaining us while we stayed on the farm. We were given time and space to wander around and meet people. He worked all day. In this photo he was setting up electricity to be strung to the yurts. Later in the day he climbed another pole that was too old and while he was on top, it tipped and he fell with it to the ground. He got up from the fall unhurt and we toasted to his good luck later that night, drinking vodka.
Most people in the area got around on horse but there were a few trucks here and there, about half with wheels still attached.
This little sweetheart became my friend for a while. Only 3 years old, she roamed the property as she wished unsupervised amongst the animals. She loved to run and laugh and liked to make monster faces and chase me away.
Though it's just a cow, this photo shows the pace of life out here. The locals do work hard every day milking cows and horses but they remain laid back and chipper.
Here's this cute little girl again. I found her bouncy on a loose part of the fence giggling to herself.
In the candlelight of our yurt we took shots of vodka together speaking in Mongolia, Russian, English to communicate. The only other person on the farm was a Russian girl named Katiya who had met Gana in UB. They both spoke Russian and with Katiya's excellent English we could bridge the gaps that our Mongolian and Gana's English couldn't.
Taking some funny drink pictures, these were our serious faces.
And these were our crazy faces.
The five of us after killing a bottle of vodka and teaching each other dirty words in our respective languages.
Making sure our stove burnt all night long, Sara went out in the dark to find dried cow patties to stoke the fire. She's definitely looking her best her with the head lamp on and a dried piece of horse shit in her hand.
Sara trying to open the stove door with a fork, horse shit still in hand.
This horse was tied up outside a tiny local store while a man ran into to grab some food and vodka. And I thought I'd never be in a place where people tied up their horses outside the store.