On a cool, crisp night, the light of a full moon shone down on the Egyptian city of Suhaj, and a young girl was running through the streets as if terror personified was on her heels.

The girls name was Harere, and as she ran through the city she could hear the sound of her doom echoing not too far behind, a solid 'clomping' sound, slow but steady. She knew her only hope was to make as many twists and turns as possible.

When she thought she had lost her pursuer, Harere stopped to catch her breath. She glanced up at the night sky; there were clouds slowly drifting by, but the moon still shone down in all its glory.

She turned back the way she'd come just in time to see a camel exit from the last alley she ran through. The beast had some tattered rags clinging to its hump, and, bizarrely, one ruptured shoe on its left hind foot.

The young girl turned, and muttering some words of questionable taste, resumed her flight, though now she had an idea. It was risky but she had to try something.

The camel increased its lumbering but steady gait.

Harere headed for a large, centrally located park/playground area. She knew the camel would gain on her on this more or less straight dash, but it was her only hope.

Hearing the rhythmic galumphing getting louder behind her, the park entrance came into view. With renewed vigor she put on a burst of speed and headed for the jungle gym, a sort of geodesic dome of interconnected bars for kids to climb on. Upon reaching it, she dove into the center and turned to face her pursuer.

The camel stamped to a halt, mere feet away and stared right at the object of its wrath. It blew a blast of air out of its nostrils in frustration.

Harere stared into the camel's large, baleful eyes. It ground its teeth, almost as if in contemplation.

Just as the camel started circling the dome, looking for a way in, the clouds moved in front of the moon. At that moment the beast started convulsing and a startling transformation took place. Within a minute a boy of about 12 stood naked before Harere, who didn't seem shocked at this turn of events. He took from around his neck the tattered remains of a shirt and tied it around his waist, then he shook free of the one abused shoe. Overall he looked a bit wrung out, but seemed none the worse for wear.

His hair was perfect.

Harere thought she should say something to her brother.

“Mosegi, I...”

“I said, no piggy-back rides!”

Bogd was keeper of the ovoo.

He hadn’t asked for the job, nor was he paid. But his father and his father’s father had tended to the ovoo. So now that was his lot in life.

When he was a teen, Bogd had rebelled. He screamed at his father that repairing mounds of rock was work fit for an idiot. His father only smiled, mounted his camel, and headed off on his month-long trek across the Gobi basin.

Now, while riding his camel through the desert, Bogd remembered that tumultuous time in his life with bittersweet nostalgia. Although decades had passed since he had buried his father, Bogd could still clearly remember the day his father proudly presented him with his very own khadag. Bogd still wore that scarf with pride. It reminded him of the endless blue sky. It also announced his presence as keeper of the ovoo.

Seeing his flowing blue scarf, nomads would warmly welcome him to their camp. Bogd always looked forward to the times when he would encounter the wanderers. They were like family. He enjoyed their company and loved leading them in song. But what Bogd truly relished was the yoghurt they offered. Made from camel’s milk, it had a hint of hazelnuts that Bogd always considered somewhat indulgent.

The brilliant orange glow of the fire and the heat from his camel helped make the evenings feel less cold. And in the morning, the nomads told Bogd where to find the closest ovoo. Sometimes it was near, but there were times that he had to travel for days.

On those long treks, Bogd was grateful for the company of his camel. They had grown up together. Bogd could sing out of key and his camel would lope along without complaint. Unlike horses, camels swing both legs on one side of the body, then both legs on the other side. Although he had never traveled out of the desert, Bogd imagined the lulling motion of a camel ride to be similar to being in a boat on the ocean. He could clear his mind and be at peace with the sky and the sand for hours at a time.

In accordance with tradition, when Bogd finally came upon an ovoo, he would first dismount his camel and then circle the mound of rocks three times in a clockwise direction. He would then make an offering to the wide-open sky by placing a bit of jerky on the northwest side of the ovoo. But unlike other travelers who used the pile of stones as a mere navigational aid, Bogd was the keeper of the ovoo. He would gather up stray stones that had fallen and insure the surrounding area was well raked and free of debris. When he was satisfied that everything was in order, Bogd would say one final prayer to the sky before mounting his camel and heading off in search of the next ovoo.

---

As the sun nestled down behind the distant mountains, stars appeared in the Eastern sky. Although Bogd was still several kilometers from his home, he could see that his family had already started the evening fires. After being gone for nearly five weeks, he longed to hurry home, but his camel plodded along at its familiar slow pace.

When Bogd finally arrived, his family greeted him with hugs and noisy chatter. At dinner nearly everyone had a story to share. Bogd was used to his eldest son’s aloofness, but this night something was definitely different. He wouldn’t make eye contact and seemed full of anxious energy. After the little ones had been tucked under their camel skin blankets for a second time, Bogd asked his son to join him for a nighttime ride. Much to Bogd’s surprise, his son readily agreed.

They rode together under the pale yellow light of the moon, concentrating mainly on the soft crunching sound of the camels’ feet on the ground. For nearly a half-hour neither one said a word.

And then, Bogd’s son began telling his father how he had met a woman with blonde hair and blue eyes. He said that he wanted to follow her back to England and that he wanted to study to become a doctor. He explained to his father that camel’s milk is rich in disease-fighting chemicals and that he could be the one who finally cured cancer.

Bogd had been listening so intently to his son that he hadn’t noticed that they had approached an ovoo. His son dismounted his camel and began his circular path around the mound. Bogd joined his son and after their third pass they joined hands and prayed to the cerulean sky.