Imagine this scenario playing out in the Western
world; you'd slam the door and call the police. Instead,
the man broke into a giddy, toothless smile, yelled for
his sons to come take care of our horses, and gestured
for us to head into the ger for dinner.
It seemed our luck had turned around. That is, un-
til a large bucket of unidentified animal organs was
plopped in front of us. A large knife sat atop the or-
gans, and the family gestured for us to start carving.
We smiled widely at them while arguing about who
would be the first to dig in and, after each having a bite
of what we contended was liver, politely indicated that
we were full.
That night, as I tossed and turned trying to achieve
a position that didn't leave my aching body screaming
in pain, I found myself reflecting on the fact that this
generous family was an example of how less really is
more. Like all Mongolian nomads, they have what we
perceive to be very little, yet they'll throw their home
open and share with you whatever they do have, ex-
pecting nothing in return. They seemed happy and
healthy and had been thriving this way for quite some
time. Valuable lessons indeed.
