It is a dark blue Nissan Pathfinder, I think, the colour a nice contrast to the deep red and orange of his robes. He is weaving through crowds of people and vendors, one the fringe of Ulaanbaatar’s “Black Market.” “What would Buddha drive,” Mark muses. In a country with almost no paved roads, however, the SUV is not completely ridiculous. And although such lamas were somewhat mythical creatures to me before, in this city they are just about as common as men in suits in Toronto. And, similarly, they drive home in SUVs and change into jeans and t-shirts. The everydayness of this occurrence reminds me of where I am. A country where, although brutally repressed by the communists, Buddhism is a way of life for many, and lamas driving SUVs don’t turn heads.
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