Why the camels are so ugly

by Maira Souto Lage (Denmark)

Making a local connection Mongolia

‘Do you know why the camels are so ugly?’ Nasaa asked me while we were eating breakfast at the camp. Breakfast was the least interesting part of the day at the desert. Being brought up in the suburbs of a big city I never really calculated that once you have no water you have no vegetables or fruits and that meant our meals were a wide selection of meat – mostly muttons and goats, and if we were lucky enough some eggs. First time Nasaa and I had dinner together I still remember the look on her face as our dishes arrived. A plate of salad on the side of meat but judging from her looks it could equally have been a plate of worms. ‘Would you like to switch some of your meat with my salad?’ she tried to bargain with me. And so, for the time we were together this became a little ritual of ours. I would always switch my share of protein for her plate of greens. ‘No’ I said back to the camel story a bit more harshly than I intended to sound. It was the wrong answer. Her question was just a way for her to start telling me one more of her many tales and I was in no mood for one. I met Nasaa a couple of weeks before when I jumped off the Transiberian in a dusty train station in Mongolia a little further down the boarder with China. From the comfort of my home it seemed like a good idea to get off in the desert and camp with the nomandic people in their gers for a while. But as soon as night fell and the electricity was shut off, I was carried back to my childhood memories, back at my grandpa’s farm and the fear I had of the broad and quiet night. ‘Long ago the camel was the most beautiful animal in the whole forest.’ She started, ‘He had beautiful antlers that reminded of a crown and the most elegant tail which shinned under the sun. He would often brag about it and mock the other animals. One day, tired of the Camels’ comments the Deer came to him and asked if he could borrow his horns as he had a party to go and was embarrassed as he had nothing so magnificent in his head. The Camel feeling very proud of himself agreed to lend him the horns on the condition that he should return it the next day. The Horse seeing the gesture hurried to the Camel and asked if he too could borrow the Camels’ tail for he should also attend to the ball and was embarrassed that he had no tail of his own. Once more the Camel agreed on the same condition as for the Deer. Early next day the Camel waited for the Horse and the Deer to return the tail and antlers. But instead of giving it back the Deer and the Horse told the Camel that they would keep his features as a lesson, this way he would understand how he made the other animals feel with all his bragging. And that is why today the camel is so ugly’. Nasaa’s little tale was enough to soften my sour mood. As I sat on our four-wheel drive and watched her throwing camel’s milk in the wheels of the vehicle ‘For good luck’ - she once told me, I pondered on the fact that I still didn’t understand how she could navigate around that area. Outside Ulaan Bataar everything in Mongolia was plain flat fields. There were no roads, no signs, no landmarks. Nothing that could indicate whether you should continue straight out or take a turn. ‘Is it really dinosaur fossils we are about to see?’ I inquired skeptical ‘Yes, of course’ she quickly replied. And as unreasonable as it was for a moment, I did believe her camel story, the good luck in the milk, the fossils, and how she could blindly navigate through the roads. In front of us the desert I saw was anything but dry, it was rich and it flooded with stories, humbleness and above all, hope.