At night in the Tsaatan camp you could only hear the gentle whistle of the wind through the trees, the faint cracking of wood burning in the stoves and the dogs barking
What a privilege was to have a chat with a Tsaatan chief in his ortz in the middle of the taiga. I remember he was just taking a break from his daily reindeer shepherd routine
Toward the end of last year winter I was arriving at a Tsaatan camp in Northern Mongolia. The snow was already starting to melt around the teepee-like ortz