Chapter 8

Chapter 8

They had already spent a couple of hours traveling through the monotonous landscape of the desert that was becoming increasingly rugged. Selma and Martín had fallen asleep lulled by the even rattle of the car, barely shaken by any stone in the road. Once the news that the panorama had to offer were exhausted Deborah played with her cell phone exploring certain functions that until then she had not used until she also got bored and then looked at the driver trying unsuccessfully to see his youthful features below the heavy Mongolian clothes. The woman did not even know what language the inhabitants of Mongolia speak so she could hardly expect to communicate with him. Eager to hear at least her own voice and looking at her seatmate Debbie expressed her wishes out loud.

“I would really like to ask you some questions about all this!"

Immediately after, and convinced of the uselessness of her attempt at communication, she sank into her seat in an attempt to fall asleep to shorten the travel time in the arid territory, closed her eyes and tried to disconnect herself from reality. For this reason she suffered a shock when her ears brought her the unexpected answer.

“And what would you want to ask me?"

Debbie jumped in her seat wondering if what she thought she had heard was only a figment of her imagination. In order to move with more freedom of movement in the seat she released the safety belt that had been fastened and bent so she could observe the driver´s face and be able to verify a data that her ears had transmitted to her brain but to which she did not give a lot of credit.

"Do you speak English?" asked Debbie, still incredulous.

The person next to her turned and looked at her with her slanted eyes.

“That´s right. What did you want to ask me?"

Upon hearing the conversation Selma and Martín woke up; the first asked her sister.

“Who were you talking to? To the driver?"

“ Yes, to the driver.” Before the questioning look of Selma added. "She speaks English ... and she is a young woman."

Then turned again to the driver in order to respond that she had asked.

“Well ... first of all I would like to know your name."

“Tsegseg. My name is Tsegseg."

Selma decided to participate in the conversation.

“Tsegseg. It has any meaning?"

“ It means flower."

“A very romantic and aromatic name." Debbie said. "And very appropriate for a beautiful girl."

There was no answer but the woman came to perceive the blush on the girl's cheeks.

“A young woman?" Martín repeated with a somewhat vehement interest, which earned Selma a pinch. “ I mean, what do you do in this desert?" The clarification was not too convincing.

Upon hearing the comment the driver of the vehicle turned her head looking at who had shown interest in her and for a moment their eyes crossed, then turned her gaze to the path in front of her.

Debbie, who had been following the whole episode in the rearview mirror, smiled when her suspicions about her sister's feelings were confirmed. Although Selma was already an adult, the protective and at the same time competitive feeling of an older sister that Debbie had always had towards her surfaced at every step.

The hours followed the hours and the miles traveled accumulated; the vastness and monotony of the desert hypnotized the travelers by immersing them in an almost permanent state of drowsiness, with eyes that rather than watching slid on the desolate panorama.

“Look, there, to our right.” Martín's voice startled Debbie and Selma who were dozing. As they followed the direction the young man pointed out, they saw a scene that seemed to have been torn from an adventure novel in the Sahara desert at the end of the 19th century. On a higher hill that stood out on the horizon, the figures of a long line of what were undoubtedly camels and some others shorter, of men on horseback were cut out; a soft evening wind lifted up sand that caused the vision not to be totally clear.

“A caravan of camels! I thought it was a relic of the past." Selma's sentence had the effect of provoking the response of the driver named Tsegseg, who until then had remained silent.

“It is a reality of all times, since it is the traditional way of life and work of many of the inhabitants of the Gobi Desert."

“ Are there people who inhabit these desolate places?" asked Selma, to whom the panorama produced a certain anguish.

“Yes. They live around the oases that are placed on the few springs of water. Some are sedentary and live in sets of huts or yurts. Others place their tents a little further away from the oasis but still get their supply water in it."

"Oasis!" Selma exclaimed. "It sounds romantic."

“We'll go through one of them.” informed Tsegseg.” The plan is to replenish water in them. I suppose that the organizers of the expedition have also planned to replenish our fuel at that site."

“The organizers?" Martín asked. “ Do you know who they are?"

“I do not know them. I assumed you would know." It was the simple response of the young Mongol woman.

The line of camels was falling behind, and unexpectedly the driver added enigmatically.

“The problem of the caravans of merchants is what they attract."

“What do you mean?"

“ To the bandits of the Gobi.” She paused and continued. "Caravan assailants."

In the absence of new stimuli the conversation extinguished again and the passengers returned to their previous state of stupefaction. Martín noticed that Tsegseg rubbed her arms frequently and finally asked her.

“Are you tired of driving?"

“ My arms fall asleep, it is due to the constant position."

“Let me replace you for a while whilst you rest."

“I shouldn´t... my instructions..."

“To the devil with your instructions. My family has an old Land Rover truck with which we go everywhere, and I'm used to driving it."

Finally the girl agreed and after making a signal with the headlights to the other two vehicles stopped her car. The other drivers also stopped and waited for the change of drivers. Martín sat in the driver's seat while Tsegseg sat in the backseat next to Selma, whose eyes sparked for the kindness that the young man had had with the Mongol girl; Debbie kept following the dynamics with an amused expression.

As the Sun was hiding behind the western horizon, the first shadows began to fall on the sands and stones; Martín guided the truck concentrated in the vehicles that went ahead; Selma had fallen asleep again with her head resting on her rival's shoulder and Deborah was getting ready to enjoy her first nightfall in the bosom of the Gobi Desert. In the distance a shadow appeared on the course of the expedition.

“ I wonder what in front is?" Said the driver. “ It seems that we are heading towards there."

“ Do you remember that I spoke about stopping in several oases? This is the first we will find."

“All right. Does it a name? Can we find it on the map?" asked Debbie while her sister woke up.

“If it really has a name, I do not know it. And I do not think it's on any map, at least on civil maps."

Debbie had previously seen oasis pictures in advertising brochures promoting tours in the Gobi Desert and other sites in Mongolia, such as Lake Crescent, with its pagodas rising above the sands, its small lakes with their shores clearly cut from the sands of the desert, its yurts carefully arranged around the pond, its well-kept groves and its facilities for tourists but had always questioned the representativeness of these idyllic places as postcards of the desert. The one that opened before her and her companions on the other hand was in agreement with the preconception that the woman had of a true oasis in the arenas.

Located between two high dunes, which perhaps protected it from the strong winds of the area, the innominate oasis they approached consisted of a patch of somewhat withered vegetation around a puddle of brown water of dubious purity and contours that were lost among the sands. The vegetation was varied and included some high species that spread a repairing shade in front of the ardor of the noon of the desert. Several miserable looking huts were scattered among the trees, corresponding to the stable sedentary population of the oasis, and a set of travelers' tents that arrived and stayed in the place for several days to replenish water were located in the surrounding sands. A background sound was noticeable in the place and caught the attention of the newcomers. As Selma made a question about it, Tsegseg pointed her finger at the heights of the neighboring dunes, where the constant winds kept the sands circulating and blurred the images of the peaks.

“ The singing sands.” The young Mongolian said as an explanation.

“Singing sands.” Deborah repeated. " That´s some poetic name."

Jack approached from the truck in which he had traveled, that was parked about fifty steps away; Dennis followed him with some gear, which he left on the floor as he ran to hug his girlfriend, after the seven hour trip without seeing her. The woman responded surprised and delighted unfolding her arms around his torso and both joined in a prolonged kiss.

“Well, it seems that the air of the desert is impregnated with romanticism.” said ironically Jack.

“Envious.” answered Dennis once he had finished his show of affection.

Carried by the romantic influence of the scene Selma glanced at Martín and noted with indignation that the young man did the same with the Mongolian girl.

Batbayar, the expedition guide, who had been speaking with several inhabitants of the oasis finally approached and said.

"I have obtained permission to place our camp in that grove, on the condition that we leave early tomorrow, as they wait for an important caravan to arrive.

""Have you had to pay for that permit?" asked Jack.

“Of course. Nothing is free in the desert."

The shadows had fallen on the sands, and the feverish diurnal activity of the oasis had disappeared, being replaced by groups of isolated travelers, located around numerous bonfires where the dinners of the different groups of residents and visitors were prepared.

While a couple of the Mongols prepared the food, Batbayar had displayed a large map of the Gobi in the previously flattened sands.

“We're in this place.” He said pointing with his finger to an indistinguishable place in the map. "And our first destination is this other place." The finger pointed then to a spot much further south.” It is approximately three hundred miles away from here.”

“ At this speed we will arrive tomorrow afternoon." estimated Jack.

“Right. Depending on at what time we wake up tomorrow."

“ How is the road?"

“There are areas of loose sand, where the advance will be slower.” The guide looked a bit worried.

"Something wrong, Batbayar?" His gesture had not gone unnoticed by Jack.

“In this area, very strong wind storms are frequent. North China is a vast sea of sand that moves easily. Many caravans have literally been covered by sand and dust and have not been seen anymore."

“ Is not there a season for those storms?"

“Normally they are more frequent in March and April, in spring, but there have been very strong storms as late as the middle of November."

“I feel pretty cold.” said Deborah changing abruptly the subject. "Is this also normal here?"

“The Gobi has very extreme temperature variations, from 45 ° C in the summer to 45 ° C below zero in winter, and even within a single day there are usually very strong thermal amplitudes."

After dinner the talk gradually died away and Jack finally said.

“The men have already prepared the tents and Batbayar said tomorrow we have to get up early. Let's go to sleep. There is one tent for every person, so Debbie and Selma do not need to share ."

The women withdrew and Deborah Liberman got ready to spend her first night in the desert, lulled by the singing sands.