On September 2nd, our filming crew embarked for Inner Mongolia from Beijing on the most unpretentious 15-seater van. It took us more than 13 hours to arrive at our final destination, which is a pasture in the middle of nowhere, with no call reception or mobile data. We met with our host’s brother-in-law at the small town 45-minute away from our host’s home, after a brief dinner. Our van, loaded with heavy equipment and 11 grown-ups and 1 mid-sized dog, followed his car, which swiftly rode through the plain and disappeared into the infinite dark. No exaggeration. There were no street lights, no houses, no nothing. The only bright object was a dot of moon hanging on the sky. There were no paved roads. As skilful and experienced as our driver was, it was strenuous for him to manoeuvre on the extremely soft and crumbly soil. Our car almost sank into the puddle. We saved us from getting stuck, but couldn’t escape from getting lost. We had to stop, and patiently waited for our guide to return to us. When we arrived at our host’s place, it was almost 10pm.

You see that tiny dot of light? Say hi to the moon.

Here starts the interesting part. We are in the pastural area, with very minimal city infrastructure. Electricity is supported by solar power. It hardly rains, and the residents there do not use a lot of electricity. There is no running water, no bathrooms, meaning no showers at all, and Mother Nature is your toilet. The problem is, the place is very open, and can be very flat. It can be challenging to find the “ideal” place to do your businesses.

Our host was kind enough to set up a yurt for some of us to stay in, while our featured chef and his assistant stayed at our host’s house. The yurt was an intricate structure that requires more than one person to set up. There were a lot of fine details that display architectural and aesthetic brilliance. Woods were carefully bended and intertwined. Mongolian was engraved on the frame of the skyline in form of a protection. Belts were knitted with horse mane by our host’s mother. That was once the home of Mongolians. Our host used to live in one, until he built a house xx years ago.

Inside the yurt, it was surprisingly warm, given the skylight was closed completely. But we preferred a little bit of fresh air, especially when we had 6 people sleeping side by side in sleeping bags.

I used to camp often when I was younger. (When I say younger, I mean 20 years ago.) Hence, I did not mind tents and sleeping bags and bugs. We were also super fortunate it only rained briefly one night (which woke the director up, who was sleeping right under the open skylight). The weather in general was cool and dry. We barely sweated and did not feel unacceptably uneasy even without showers. (Thanks to Arthur Julius, who invented wet wipes!) What bothered me most was my oily hair. My head started to itch on day 3, and I decided to wash it, the most classy way possible. That was my only wash in 6 days.

My hair-washing partner / life partner Jun

The living condition was not horrible. It was just not comfortable and convenient according to city standards. Yet, everyday when I naturally woke up at 6am, feeling completely replenished with energy, I knew it was a blessing to be breathing unpolluted air. My body felt alive everyday, without my magic foam pillow, bouncy mattress, and down blanket. That was the quality sleep I had been missing since age 13. (Well, now it sounds like an air purifier commercial. Interested brands, please contact me for product placements.) In Chinese, we say 有得必有失, “For every loss, there is a hidden gain. And for every gain, there is a hidden loss.” We gain convenience in the expense of nature. The purity there is something I cherish and will miss.