Since time immemorial, my kind have roamed the Himalayas, and much of the lands of Eurasia, as well as the forests and jungles of the Asian continent. Bigfoot, the Yeti, the Abominable Snowman, the humans have so many names for us. Some of those names are downright funny, others infuriate the hell out of me. Since we can't exactly go on CNN to correct those misconceptions, we have to grin and bear them. For the record, we call ourselves Sadan Töröl, it means Kindred in Mongolian...
Tales of gigantic, human-like creatures walking about in the wilderness abound in many cultures. Fortunately for my inhuman brethren, we've learned to hide in the last place where modern humans with their seemingly unlimited nosiness would think of looking for us. Thousands of us live throughout the vastness of Asia and beyond. In plain sight...
In fact, I've personally guided scores of men and women, from ordinary tourists hailing from the United States of America, Canada, Australia and the United Kingdom to cryptozoology enthusiasts and experts from The Discovery Channel on many a trail, right here in Mongolia, always on a search for mythological creatures. As always, they never find anything. Not even a gigantic footprint or a suspicious fur patch. Too bad for them, I guess.
Where would I be without tourists with deep pockets and ridiculous obsessions? Probably not living comfortably in a nice villa out here in the country. Seriously, I can't help but smile to myself as I take their money and basically lead them nowhere. They all want to see a Yeti, and they pay good money for it. It's the sweetest scam in the world. I'm in charge of finding myself, and I make sure I'm never found. Not bad for a steady job, eh?
The latest of these well-paying but foolish wanderers are a couple of Americans with deep pockets. One is a short, skinny white guy with red hair named Harold Rosenthal, formerly of Johannesburg, South Africa. The other is Omar Kensington, a graduate student from Howard University in Washington D.C. The six-foot-two, well-built and handsome young African-American Muslim scholar came to my village in the Ghorki-Terelj region of Mongolia with a most intriguing proposition, to say the least. Let's just say that he definitely wasn't what I expected...
"Miss Bagabandi, I firmly believe that the creatures that so many think are the stuff of myth exist among us today, what we call Abominable Snowmen are simply another type of humanoid, just like Homo Erectus and others, and if they're smart enough to stay away from modern humans, who can blame them? We are a savage species that kill our own over questions of color, nationality and religion," said the tall, well-dressed black gentleman, with a shake of his head.
"Please call me Mariam," I replied, and Omar Kensington smiled. When he looked at me, I didn't see the almost anthropological curiosity that I usually saw in the eyes of foreigners when they looked at me. It's something I've grown used to, for a variety of reasons. In the nation of Mongolia, most of the tour guides catering to tourists are men, and I am a woman. This definitely surprises many, as I can attest.
Indeed, when the American scholar first laid eyes on me, he bowed respectfully, instead of offering me a handshake, as is customary in western nations. Most people in Mongolia are Muslims, and I have followed the religion since my birth. Islam states that men and women who are unrelated should not touch. Americans and others tend to ignore or completely disregard social norms while in foreign lands, but not Mr. Kensington, something which peeked my interest.
By my own admission, I make for a rather unique woman. I'm six feet seven inches tall, somewhat on the heavyset side due to genetics, though I do lead an active lifestyle. My breasts are large, my hips are wide, my legs are thick, and while so have politely called me bodacious or Amazonian, I am akin to a giantess, and an anomaly in the eyes of most men.
"Mariam, I am a firm believer that nothing created by mother nature simply vanishes, I believe the creatures I mentioned earlier are intelligent, and have hidden themselves from humanity with good reason, I seek proof of their existence," Omar said enthusiastically, and he stroked his goateed chin. What is going on through this human's mind? I wondered.
I judged Omar to be handsome, from what I understood of human standards. Oh, and he also didn't reek of perfume like most human males I encountered these days. The scholar smelled of soap and water, and nothing else. This gladdens my heart. I can't tell you how much I hate perfumes. Seriously, those artificial smells irritate my superhuman senses. I leaned back on my custom-made chair, and thought long and hard before giving the man an answer. Before I could speak, however, Mr. Rosenthal interrupted our talk.
"Personally, if I see a big hairy ape up there, I'm shooting first and asking questions never," Rosenthal said, laughing, and I swear I saw Omar roll his eyes. I looked from one to the other, and noted what an odd pair they made. An African-American scholar with a Barack Obama button on his backpack, and a gun-loving white man from South Africa, traveling together in Mongolia. Strange bedfellows indeed, eh?
"Gentlemen, I do not guide people on hunting parties, only visits to carefully selected sites, if you seek to hunt wild game, perhaps you should contact one of those hunting companies, I'm sure you'll find their agents more suitable to your needs," I replied haughtily as I rose from my chair, glaring down at Rosenthal. The South African flinched and flashed me a fake smile.
"Ma'am, allow me to apologize for my colleague here, we are not hunters, this is a peaceful expedition," Omar said earnestly. I looked into his soulful brown eyes, and decided to take him at his word. Nodding, I sat back down, then laid the ground rules. There was no way I would lead these two anywhere if they didn't understand that on such journeys, the guide's word is quite often the difference between life and death for inexperienced tourists like them.
"Miss Bagabandi, I'm sorry for what I said, you know the lay of the land, this is your show," Rosenthal said through gritted teeth, and I gave him a chilly nod. We agreed to meet the next day to go over everything from supplies to topography, and then I wished them goodnight. This is going to be fun, I thought to myself as I watched the two of them go.
