Garya recounts several ghost stories. Here are his stories: This happened many years ago. It is possible that even today such things happen, but people are not aware of them. In the past people used to say that a pastureland that is not far from here was haunted. One day a man from our village rode his horse in that direction. When he reached that place, his horse stopped and refused to go further. Later people asked that man whether what had happened to his horse was true. He himself verified this story. This means that that place indeed was haunted. Two people died in my family. When they died, no prayers were read, no service was carried out for them. Because of this (disrespect), the dead became offended and stayed in this place. I heard from others that the two dead sometimes show themselves to the living. In 1959 I worked in a shop in a place called Salbur. One day I prepared a couple of horses and a cart and set out on a journey to the third farm. On my way back, I took a passenger with me who was an old man. In our clan’s territory there is a place called Khurla Nur. People say that in the past there stood a temple in that place. So, we were riding near that place. It was night. All of a sudden, my horses became tense and set themselves free of the cart. What happened? I got out to check the cart. The straps underneath the harness got loose and were dangling. How did it happen? I fastened the straps and got back on the cart. When I whipped the horses, the harness again got loose. This went on like this for some time. The old man said to me: ‘Oh dear, it is a horrible place. Why are they torturing us? What have we done, oh dear? Let’s pray’. He started to read prayers. I got off the cart and pulled the horses. While pulling them I had a feeling that they were pulling something very heavy. They were so tense. When we passed that place I got back on the cart. Nearby we saw a cattle farm. When we told the farmers about what had happened to us, they said: ‘It is a dark place. Things like this happen there’. When we were in Siberia, my mother went to see her friends who lived on the other side of a ditch across a small vegetable garden. She left the house in the evening and walked all the night long. At dawn, she saw that she had been walking near the house never being able to reach it. Something was making her walk in circles. In those days there were no temples. When you go to a temple, lamas read prayers for you, and everything falls back into place. Nowadays I do not hear such stories anymore.