48 Hours

Camel polo...fire...suicide.

The day began well. I awoke early with vigor and my water was timely delivered. You see, I would rather support the local economy instead of hauling water myself. As the job situation is scarce, I pay the going rate of a dime a barrel 3 times a week for water to the waterman. He makes $30 a month perhaps, roughly calculated...I don't know. So it was off to the camel races followed by camel polo. Interesting stuff, they played much better than I would've thought. Its tough to whack a ball with a long stick whilst atop a camel. Of course you can't go to an event without being hassled by a drunk. So...camel polo.

On to the flames. I head back to the good 'ol ger and am distressed to find my smoke alarm going off. I pretty much have the forsight to envision exactly what is going on behind that door...I foolishly had lit a fire before going off to the races. So a den of smoke is my ger, as I put out the fire in my dung box. Apparently it caught fire from the stove. And so now everything smells terrible. Had I arrived later, there would've been nothing. I was angry with myself more than anything. C'est la vie, eh?

Finally, I sit down to use the 'Net, and the policeman has me assist him in printing photos, as evidence. Simple. However, the photos are of a man who has just committed suicide by tying himself to a fence, while he was drunk. Great way to end the day, eh?

That's 48 hours for you in Mongolia...camel polo, fire and suicide...