Ah, the race. It still churns my blood when I see a running horse. My only dream as a child was to be a champion. I learned how to ride a horse before I learned how to walk. Strange because my parents are farmers, not nomads. When I was seven, I found a horse that I knew would bring me the glory, but he cost a fortune. I started working for other farmers to make money. I got pretty close, and my mother sold a yak to help me, then the hailstorm came. All the crops in the fields were destroyed, and my parents sent me to Aba to live with my uncle, a monk in the monastery. READ MORE...

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