It was the morning of a big provincial holiday. The hometown hero, an Olympic champion, was coming home to Bulgan Province and a naadam — a big festival was organized for him. The provincial capital looked deserted as majority of its inhabitants have already traveled to the festival ground out in the steppe. But I found this elderly man sitting alone in front of the governor’s office. I approached him to ask for a photo but he started talking to me in Mongolian. I gathered from his gestures and a few words he mentioned that he was also an athlete in his younger years… a runner… he really wanted to go to the festival to meet the Olympic champion… he was hoping to hitch a ride or that the office of the governor would provide a ride. I snapped a few photos and then profusely thanked him, wishing that we could give him a ride to the festival area. Our full car passed him in the same spot later but I was pleased to find him at the festival grounds later in the day.
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- The Horses of Bulgan 1 (travellingartist.wordpress.com)
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- Spirit of the Airag (travellingartist.wordpress.com)
- Children of the Nomads 1 (travellingartist.wordpress.com)
- Naadam – A Mongolian Festival (travellingartist.wordpress.com)