ABSTRACT
“W hen I was a child, in 1966, there were terrible floods in Ulaan Baator. At that time my father had taken my two sisters and myself to the celebration of Naadam [a traditional sports festival, especially involving horse racing and wrestling competitions]. We were watching the Naadam in the stadium but I began to cry and said I wanted to go home. My father wanted to watch the horses and my mother was away from home, doing concerts in the USSR, but I kept on wanting to go home. Finally we went home. Half an hour later there was a flood in which many people died, especially when a bridge near the river collapsed. My father said I saved our family.”
