Feb 06 2012 An accident in the heart of the Gobi (Part II)

Our road just dump in the middle of the largest desert in Asia. José Luis was within.

The accident took place just over a mile of us. I just heard my own breath as he ran with no plan to the car. I ran as hard as I. Alfonso was behind me. It scared me the image of chaos: DVDs scattered on the sand, a computer that had come out fired, unrecognizable car parts, smoke… the screams of my friend.

Ascended to the driver's door and inside the vehicle image was even more drastic. José Luis was surrounded by crystals, with his hand covering his shoulder and lamented all the rage outbursts of the disaster. Get him out of the car and lay on the ground. Alfonso arrived and neither he nor I knew what to do. There was nothing around and desolation is accentuated with a silent desert. Only the wind and the sound of wheels spinning in the air 4X4, because the car was overturned, however difficult it was to assimilate. Nothing could be worse.

“I can not breathe, "let our producer-, "I think I've punctured a lung," he said quietly. Voucher, things might get worse.

I tried to calm him with a litany of topics such absurdities: "Me alone", "Try to breathe slowly", "Let's leave it"… and so.

Itntonces was our guide face of premature myocardial. José Luis asked me to call a helicopter but there was no coverage. Wailing, cries, silly faces and then the miracle happened. As if the desert were guarded, as if nothing escaped the knowledge of pastoralists, began arriving several men and women, suddenly appearing, quietly, unos horse riding, other motorcycle, a couple of them in a family car and van appeared in.

Everything is accelerated. Several pastors helped transport me to the van José Luis, other began picking up the scattered pieces, some were determined to turn the car, un Toyota Land Cruiser, pushing hard… And they got!

as if nothing escaped the knowledge of pastoralists, began arriving several men and women, quietly, unos horse riding, other motorcycle, a couple of them in a family car and van appeared in.

We José Luis to a village 80 km. He regained normal breathing and I pass mine, good sign because that rule out a pneumothorax. Hours later, I returned to the scene and towed the car without windows all night… and here the nights drop below -10 ° C.

For two days, were managing the transport vehicle to the capital. A truck driver offered to take the 4X4 to the capital of Mongolia. There was only one problem: the truck was smaller than the car itself, but for these men, accustomed to the infinite steppes, the notion of space is always relative and somehow managed to take the vehicle to Ulan Bator. José Luis took off from town on a plane Dalanzagad you away from the trauma of the accident.

Alfonso and I stayed a little orphans, without a car or travel companion, but faith encouraged us to continue way after we stayed very close to the highest dunes in Asia. The same van that had rescued José Luis, the same that drove the vehicle and the same days later would bring us closer to Ulaanbaatar, the same van would take us to the heart of the Gobi Desert. Never thank enough to the family of Bathpayaar everything you did for us.

We had to shoot a documentary and we were determined to travel to the arena wall to close the chapter of Mongolia.

For a couple of days we move away from the men and share the road with goats. When I think of those days in the confines of Mongolia comes to my mind the smell of goat. Coexisted with the goats and ate goat meat. I had the feeling that smelled whole goat Mongolia, but the starry nights that anxiety dissipated desert, sticky taste and atmosphere of perpetual flock.

One morning, still early, spotted for the first time the soft shapes of the dunes. It was a pale landscape, inert, brutal. At the corner of the world, the presence of men I found an eccentricity, but the fact is that along the slow tsunami of sand had established a family of shepherds. Why there? Maybe because it was a beautiful place.

I felt the rush of walking without saying anything, to observe a child playing with the legs of a horse, for the imagination in places like this is the comfort of childhood.

The camels were grazing free dry bushes looking for a climate ruthless survive and some flocks of birds - thousands of birds!- flying over the dunes in search of a pond, they know where to find. There are no fences, or parks. It is impossible to confine anything and that everyone feels free, his house on his back and his time on. Even we get placate the uncertainty of a trip he had to reverse, literally. I felt the rush of walking without saying anything, to observe a child playing with the legs of a horse, for the imagination in places like this is the comfort of childhood.

Ger inside that I thought the masterpiece of the concept "home". The mother prepared the food for hours. He had decided to honor cooking camel meat and pasta and so finally we got rid of the punishment of the goat. The man looked at his wife lying in a ger full of tapestries, as if waiting to see Sunday's game. While she was busy, slowly, moldeando the dough, attaching the baby to not burn the stove with center, pastors and kneading raising life as if there was more life around.

We felt good, happy to be the last refuge of Mongolia. What the hell we were doing there? I suppose you discover the other side of the world. Those stopped being strange and I found that landscape nearest. He encouraged me to wander the desert on a camel, the dunes. I gladly accepted.

As I dodged the camel, on the sand of the Gobi, I thought of José Luis, in the accident, in the solitude of these places, in the temperance of the shepherds, the magic of travel… and felt a sudden joy at being alive.