As I finished crossing the busy Ulaanbaatar street and breathed a sigh of relief, the driver stuck his head out of his window and started yelling at me, calling me names and angrily asking (commenting?) on whether I knew how to cross the street with another sprinkle of cuss words.
Looking at the Mongolian countryside, it is hard not to notice the white specks by hills, rivers, or in the middle of what seems like nowhere. Getting even closer you may hear the loud barks of the dog to alert their owners of the visitor. By the ruckus of the bark, the owners will bow their heads through the doorway of the white speck, which is of course a ger, and call his dog closer.