The view from the back of a Mongolian Police car

It was a day book-ended by police, but don't worry, I'm still a free woman. On a taxi ride to the monestary my female driver tried to go around a line of stuck traffic and almost hit a traffic cop. He had her pull over and he took her license. It was a tense ride as he allowed her to take me to my destination before returning to retrieve her license and face the music. She had the look of a child sitting outside the principal's office all the way.
The Kundan monestary was really amazing, the highlight being a 3 story tall gilded Buddha. The building that held him looked as though they built it around the Buddha after he was put up. Beautiful Tibetan buddist design, ornate decor and three walls covered in glass encased shelves filled with small buddhas, all the same size. Pilgrims (and me) walked around clockwise spinning the barrel prayer wheels and saying a mantra. It was a very peaceful place, with a wonderful calming energy.
I walked the 2 miles to a big shopping center to get my last provisions for the countryside (I leave tomorrow). Then I walked another 2 miles with my big bags trying to find a small theatre where I was to meet a friend of Anu's for a Mongolian music and dance performance. The place was really hard to find. I was walking in the sun for almost an hour. I saw a policeman helping an elderly woman, and I could see he was very patient with her. He was a young buck, with a happy honest face. I waited my turn to speak to him, and he pointed me in the direction of where I should go. I headed off. Then he realized he had told me the wrong way, and came after me in his police car.
His partner, an older enthusiastic man, yelled, "Get in! Get in!" The young one waved his hand at the direction I was headed, telling me it was wrong. Heaving my bags in and squeezing in to the back seat, we took off. We came onto the street that was filled with parked traffic. We inched along for about 2 minutes, then another police car with lights blaring came tearing down into oncoming traffic going the way we were trying to go. My young cop jumped out behind the speeding car and followed him closely all the way down the 1/2 mile of stuck traffic. I held on to the back of the seat. Meanwhile, the jolly cop is yelling out questions. "What country you??? How you like Mongolia people?? Mongolia the best, yeah!???"
When we arrived at the place I was seeking, the young cop shouted out with a triumphant "this is the place!" and I piled out, thanking them in Mongolian several times. They got a big kick out of the whole thing.

The show was lovely, and it was good to see Kelly again. Tonight I am packing and feeling a sense of inching along a diving board, approaching the edge, and not quite able to see if there is water in the pool. I'm loaded with gifts for the family, and my food and belongings and supplies for the summer. After traveling three months with just a back pack, it feels cumbersome. But it all comes down to this: tomorrow night I'll be sleeping in a real ger, in the open expanse of the rolling Mongolian countryside.