milking but usually it would end up in a mess with my mother redirecting them back to the Ger
to observe something more exciting. My mother who is usually soft-spoken in the presence of
others, grew more open when there were foreigners. She danced and sang in such a beautiful way
that made all of us, including Aav mesmerized. Nights always ended in cheers and wonderful
spirits. Before bed, the tourists would take out little books and write in them with a big gratified
grin on their faces. Noticing me spying on them, they would give me a smile before putting back
that mysterious book back into their bags. One thing in particular that I had observed was how
astonished the foreigners seemed at the environment. Every morning they would look up at the
beaming sky as if it a rare sight. They breathed in the cool air like they’ve just been freed from
spending an eternity in a cage. They put the sand in their hands and let it slip out slowly as if
there had never been anything so smooth.
I keep walking until I reach the traffic stop. This is one of the busiest intersections I’ve seen
in my short time here. There are cars coming from 3 sides of the road and pedestrians at the
fourth. People don’t generally wait for the little man to turn green before walking. They assess the
dangers themselves then cut through the road. Cars do actually follow the little man on the horse,
thank goodness, otherwise the day would not end well. The traffic light amuses me. Obviously,
no one travels on horses in these busy streets yet it still features a little man on a horse. That
reminds me of my horse. She’s dark allover and has a strong build. She always has her head held
up high and her neighing is high-pitched. Confident yet soft makes me feel safe to ride on her.
They assigned her to me on the day I had to teach my first class. It was easy enough finding a
job as a lot of people, especially the wealthy people, wanted very much to learn the sport I had
enjoyed every day while living in the Gobi.
