The weather is bad. We hang out in Tsagaannuur partly to stay dry, partly in the hope of finding another shaman. We tell the guesthouse owner, Gamba, of our disappointment with the first two. He thinks long hard. The best he can do is come up with a sheep-shoulder-bone diviner.
Davaajau is in town. We first thought we would have to go 25 km on motorcycle to find him. But it turns out he is only 10 minutes by foot distant. Gamba gives me the shoulder bone and I pack it away with the vodka and cookies.
I still have not found someone to translate Davaajau's divinations, but I can sort of guess his answers to the same questions I asked Nergui.
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