Realizing that it can be several hours without seeing another vehicle, it's better to wait for someone to flag over for confirmation that this is the appropriate road. Halfway through a can of sardines and stale bread, I am suddenly aware of a presence at my side. Looking down to the left, I am startled to see a four year old girl staring up holding an aluminum pale and porcelain bowl. scanning the surrounding terrain reveals no sign of nomads or their Gers and it's impossible to determine from where she came.
"Sain ban noo," I say. Hello. Her smudgy face is frozen in an emotionless gaze upward at the Martian that someone in her family has sent her to assist. Because of a deep Buddhist belief in Karma, it's in the nature of the nomads to feed and care for strangers. This is a training mission.
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