When the guest stepped over the yurt’s threshold, a small, noisily babbling child reached for her. That was nothing special. In those days any child, as soon as it was able to move on its own and until it could tell danger from no-danger, was tethered with a rope to the head of its parents’ bed. This way the child was protected from the many dangers it could get into. But much like a tethered young animal, a child subjected to the practice quickly grew bored and craved any form of companionship. And so the toddler flapped and chirped toward the entering guest, and the very first person to greet me was Grandma. At this point, she was to me still just an old woman with a shaved head, but she responded to my greeting in her own way. She nodded at me and caressed me from a distance, blessing me and wishing me a long life with the following words: “Take my white head, my remaining yellow teeth, and the years on top!” Then she had to take her eyes off me for a little while to exchange greetings with the grown-ups and to hold and sniff the snuff bottles she was offered along with the greetings. She herself did not take snuff

Unable to leave her alone, I waved wildly and continued to make a racket, my eyes riveted to her the entire time. This went on until people took notice and decided to free me from the rope. As soon as I could, I made my way straight to her on all fours and with a joyous scream grabbed hold of the hands she offered me. She helped me to my feet, pulled me close, sniffed first my hands and then my hair, and again wished me a long life—this time she talked to the mountains and asked them: “Oh, my rich Altai! Take this tiny pup into your lap to protect him from below; take this tiny pup into your armpit to protect him from above, and grant him a long life with long-lasting happiness!” Then she took me into her lap and held me. And from that moment on she was no longer for me and my family an old woman with a shaved head but my grandma with the shaved head.

Grandma spent the day in our ail and stayed overnight. As she went from one yurt to the next to drink the tea people prepared for her, I was glued to her back. Until then, Mother had always torn pieces for me off the dumplings or pancakes in the bowls, but now Grandma did that for me. This went on until I was overcome by sleep.