Toerke

On the road to Bayanzag. ‘Hey, look over there! A fox on the run’, and I point to a fast moving dot in the plain. What a mistake to make. Agi turns the wheel ferociously, leaves the gravel road and starts the chase. I’m thinking that maybe he wants to show us the fox up close. And we are getting close pretty fast. What I imagined to be a nature loving, zoological curiosity outing soon develops into a true jeep hunt. The jeep slides, circles round creating clouds of dust but Agi doesn’t let go of his prey. After about fifteen minutes the poor animal is totally exhausted and falls to the ground gasping for air. The jeep stops a few metres from the slick sprinter. I think to myself, that’s enough. I’d like to get out and pour the poor thing a bowl of water and some Pedigree Pal chunks. I’m overwhelmed by a sense of pity and compassion for this creature.

But before I can come to terms with this subtle feeling of disgust, the hunt is on again. The fox chances one last elope, to no avail. Soon enough the lungs give in and its legs fail to drag the exhausted body any further. Agi gets out of the jeep and finishes the job swinging a wrench. This is beyond me. The eagles and vultures however, are right with it and circling above this buffet. Agi starts skinning the fox like a pro. His son makes fur hats. They’ll travel west in the luggage of some proud tourist for sure. I’m not quite sure how I feel about all this. But why should I wheep like some Gaia camel? To be honest, I think those hats are quite pretty, the eagles have breakfast in bed, a Gobi mouse family sees its life span lengthened by at least a day and Agi’s family can earn that extra buck. So why am I contemplating like an amateur Buddhist on the end of suffering for all feeling creatures? This triumph of the strong, this survival of the fittest calls for a dance of joy, not? How about a foxtrot?

p.s. Two days have passed and to be honest I’d like Agi to sell us the fur. So there you are. Values and disgust, all is relative.