Postcards from the edge

Postcards from the edge
Tales of (mis)adventure from abroad

Testicle Soup

Testicle Soup

mongolia stamp

The moonlight shone through the roof opening of the smoke-filled ger. I could make out at least a dozen faces. The entire nomad family had gathered to welcome me, the guest of honor. Mongolian hospitality is legendary. Earlier that day, I had watched, cringingly, as the men ripped the testicles out of their sheep. The logic of sterilizing an entire herd for a single weary traveler still puzzles me. An elder had ceremoniously handed me a bowl. Two beige, oval shapes were floating in the milky liquid. He was staring into my eyes with a toothless smile, everyone was waiting.


There are 4 comments.

  1. comment number 1 by: Alex B

    Yannick – you’re awesome!

  2. comment number 2 by: Sarah

    Oh baby, that’s nasty. But a very cool and unusual ritual. I’d be honoured too if people castrated their sheep for me.

  3. comment number 3 by: Dan Fournier

    Hey Yannick, did you eat or drink the soup?

  4. comment number 4 by: Yannick

    I think I asked for seconds :)

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