When I asked my nomadic husband to write a draft for my note, he sent me words I could never write in a lifetime

I am currently in a two-base long-distance marriage between Mongolia and Japan with my nomadic darling (husband).

Right now, my husband is unemployed.

To be precise for the sake of his reputation, it would be more accurate to say he is in limbo, unable to move freely while his spousal visa application is being processed.
Although we submitted the application while he was visiting Japan from October to January, it is taking longer than we expected. Two months have passed since the application.

In the first place, while he was in Japan, we innocently went to the immigration office to ask for a special exception, thinking, "Since we're already in Japan, it would be nice if we could just stay."



The result was a total failure.



"Please let us stay in Japan!"
Even though I pleaded at the counter like Chihiro, a veteran-looking woman shooed us away, saying, "No!"

It's not often you get shooed away by someone with that kind of look on their face. It was a rare experience, if you could call it that.
"We are truly married... it's not a romance scam... and there's no reason for us to go back... why do a husband and wife have to be separated...!" I hung my head, but it seems that if they say no, it's no.
"It can't be helped," my husband said, and he went home quietly.

And so, my husband is now back in Mongolia, waiting in earnest.

Although he helps his parents take care of the livestock at his family home and helps others with their work, it's almost like volunteer work.
He will start his guide work in the summer, but he has far too much time on his hands.

One day, my husband, who was bored to death of waiting, made this proposal.

"I think I'll dig a well."


While taking care of the livestock, he was trying to direct his excess energy and time toward digging a well. I'm sure the local people would be happy if he dug a well, but what would he do if his visa was approved right after he started? Besides, it's not like digging a well is something you can just say, "I'm just going to go dig a well real quick."

I intuitively thought:
I must not let this person be idle.

"Hey, if you have time, why don't you take some photos and write a draft?"

My husband is a reader of my note. I will create that note with my husband. Photos and a diary. In return, I will pay him a writing fee.

"Oh~ that sounds great!"

My idle husband suddenly became energetic. (Simple)

"Try writing it without using Chappy!"

I warned my husband, who started calling ChatGPT "Chappy" at some point. I don't want to read beautiful AI-generated text. I want to release the flavorful writing of the husband I know into the world.
By the way, my husband recently used Claude (a toy of his) to build an app without me knowing. It's better than digging a well, I suppose.

And so, we, as a married couple, formed a partnership as editor and writer. With that said, please enjoy my husband's first work.

Nomadic Husband's Diary ① A Snowy Day

March 24th, late at night. It snowed.


This year, especially in Khovd Province where I was born, there was very little snow, so all the nomads were in great trouble.

But yesterday, it snowed, and everyone was very happy.
I think it was probably the happiest day for the nomadic people.
You might wonder why they are happy, but it is because thanks to the snow, grass will grow.

The grass that grows will be eaten by the animals the nomads raise, making them strong.
That is why the nomadic people symbolize this snow as fat.

On the morning of a day when it snows, there are times when I wash my face with snow.

When I was a child, on days when it snowed, I would spend the whole day outside grazing livestock without washing my face with snow, and return home around evening to rest.
The next day, tears would come from my eyes, they would hurt a lot, and I couldn't see anything.
Because of that, I couldn't see anything for about a week, and it was very difficult.
Since we were very far from town, there was no medicine, and even if we called a doctor, it was difficult for them to come because so much snow had fallen.

Because of that, thanks to a relative nearby who had just given birth, I had her milk 🤱 put into my eyes, and it gradually healed.
Having had that experience, I started washing my face with snow on days when it snows.

The one who taught me this was my father.

My father had lived in the countryside since he was a child, so he knows many different things.
He had taught me before, but I ignored it too much, and washing my face with snow was very difficult and cold, so I hated it.
But after I couldn't see, I started washing my face.

Now, when I wash my face, it is cold, but I have gotten used to it, so it is completely fine.

One more thing, on days when it snows, we must clean the snow off the top of the Mongolian ger 🧹.
This is because when the snow stops and the sun comes out, the snow melts and the things covering the ger get wet. That is why we must always clean the top of the ger on the morning of a snowy day.

(The End)

*I have compiled our stories as a couple in the "My Darling is a Nomad" magazine.

Read about the day my husband returned here