Our New Town

We have arrived in our new town! The plane ride from UB was only about an hour and a half, and despite the fact that it was a very small plane, the ride was smooth as silk. I'd been worried about that! Another unfounded concern.

There are 2 other PCVs from our group "stationed" here and 2 who are half way through their service. This town is not on any tourist itinerary, so there are far fewer non-nationals than in UB or the western part of the country. So, even though there are, including several VSO and other service agency volunteers, about 12 non-Mongolians living in town, there are still few enough that we get the wide-open stares most everywhere we go. The little kids don't usually stare -- they just say "hello, hello, hello" over and over again, and as many times as we say it back, they continue. Then, at some point, as we continue past them, we say "good-bye," and then the "good-bye, good-bye, good-bye" chorus begins. They are absolutely adorable kids! Our new town, while topographically challenged, is actually a pleasant town. Even though it's the largest city in the eastern third of the country, it's still more like a big town -- much smaller feeling than Keene or Brattleboro. There is no grass to speak of, but there are people who pick up trash around town, and even brightly-colored mushroom and soccer ball-shaped trash cans for people to use! These are the first public trash cans in wide use that we've seen in Mongolia. (The photo above is the view from our 4th floor apartment window.)

There are several kindergartens, too, all of which have brightly-painted animals and other objects to climb on. Again, we've not seen much of this kind of thing in other parts of Mongolia where we've travelled.

The streets and ubiquitous playgrounds are almost always filled with children. Children of all ages walk freely among the buildings, unaccompanied, and moms and dads don't have to worry about them. Emays and Ovwos (grandmothers and grandfathers), in their traditional deels, are also here, although their numbers are quickly declining. The young people have little or no interest in the traditional clothing; we feel so fortunate to be here when there are still those that do.

We love how we can address any old woman or man as grandmother and grandfather. There's, essentially, no such thing as a person who chooses not to have children, so virtually all older people have grandchildren. And other adults, we refer to as "ekch" (older sister), "ahk" (older brother), or "doo" (younger sister or brother). The words for woman, man and child are rarely used. I love that! Instant extended family!

Our apartment is very nice! We actually have 2 bedrooms! The paint is peeling and there's a weird smell that comes from the bathroom drain, but other than that, it's great!

Here's our kitchen.

Here's our living room.

It's everything we DIDN'T expect to be living in when we came to Mongolia! We have grieved our lack of a countryside placement (and ger-living), but are allowing ourselves to fully appreciate what we do have here.

Jim has begun his work as a business trainer and consultant and school starts for Julie this week! More to come...

Successes!

Chapter one closes and chapter two begins with some great feelings of accomplishment. Last week, at our "Host Family Appreciation" ceremony, Jimmy,

the man whom I have tried to teach to waltz for, oh, about
17 years now, won a dancing contest! It was a formal, waltz-
type dance, and his partner was his language teacher. The teachers all got to choose who they wanted to dance with, and Jimmy's teacher, Tuya, chose him. Smart cookie, Tuya. Tuya is about 5' 1" and pregnant, and she and Tom Bagway (Mongolian for "Big Bear" - the name most other PC folks and many Mongolians call him) looked ridiculously cute
dancing together. We think that may have been the real reason he won. The other medal was indisputably deserved,

however, since it was for volleyball, and Jimmy's team was, by far, the best (of 6) to play. The Mongolians take their competitions very seriously, and since Jimmy does too, it worked out beautifully for everyone. We both felt, though, like it was very surreal to experience Jimmy receiving a medal for dancing. Another one of those highly unexpected experiences here. I also sang a song with my little sister, and I wish you all could have heard her sing. Absolutely lovely.

This week we are in UB (Ulaanbaatar) for final training sessions, to meet our supervisors for our new jobs, and for our official Peace Corps swearing-in. My supervisor is Sarantsetseg (Mongolian for "moonflower"), who is the principal of my new school, and who seems really willing to work closely with me. The school has about 1500 students and 80 teachers, and I'm slated to teach 5th, 7th and 11th grade English classes, work 6+ hours a week on teaching methodology and English language lessons with other language teachers, 2 hours a week teaching English to non-language teachers, 3 hours a week running "English Clubs," and 2 hours meeting with and tutoring my principal in English. I've been told that that schedule is highly preliminary, so we'll see when we get there what I really end up teaching. Jimmy's supervisor, Enkhbaatar, is a jovial young guy who Jimmy feels will be really flexible with him as well. In the photo, that's me and my supervisor, Sarah and Cassandra (who will be in the same town with us) and their supervisors, and Jimmy and Enkhbaatar. The photo was taken at the theater in UB where we had our swearing-in ceremony.

The "tsamts" we are wearing (check out the sleeves on mine!) were custom-made for us by our host families. That's a standard, and incredibly wonderful and generous gift that host families most always give to their PC trainees. Mine is absolutely gorgeous.

I was asked to sing the same song I sang with my sister at the appreciation event, at the swearing-in ceremony. It went over really well! One Mongolian teacher actually told me that my accent sounded like a real Mongolian was singing! I couldn't have had a nicer compliment.

And, finally, I thought you might like to get a look at some of the folks with whom I have spent the last 2 1/2 months, laughing, learning and exploring. In the photo are 8 of the 11 PCTs who trained in the same school as me, and our two teachers. Starting on the left, it's me, Cassandra, Agee, Tsetsgay, Dwan, Chris, Jacob, Alli, James, Charlene and Peter. Peter and I did our practise teaching together, and had a blast the whole time. His wife, Cady, lived right next door to Jimmy, and the two of them also had a great time together this summer.

We've now already said good-bye to most of these folks, until we meet again in December for our In-Service Training week back here in UB. We head out at 5AM to the airport, then take a 2+ hour flight to our new city. It's going to be so weird to have our very first apartment-building experience take place in Mongolia! We also have our PC issued cell phones, which everyone is having fun watching us try to figure out.

So, in our next entry we'll be able to tell you all about our new community of Choibalsan! Meanwhile, happy back-to-school for many of you, and enjoy these last glorious days of summer.

Julie's Family's Turn

Now it's my turn to tell you all about MY wonderful host family. Wish I'd had time to do it earlier, since, at this point, we have actually moved on. But I certainly intend to stay in touch with these lovely people while I'm here in Mongolia and beyond.

My mom, Haltar, is an absolute stitch. She cracks me up every day with the way she pretends she is going to have a nervous breakdown if I don't eat more dinner. She has so many endearing mannerisms, including referring to herself in the third person all the time. I think that might be a cultural thing; mothers here are very highly esteemed, and moms wear their titles as well-earned badges of honor. She loves to laugh and does so most of the day. She is also highly respected in the community, as she is a medical doctor. Everyone knows her. When I come home from visiting Jimmy in the center of town, all I have to tell the taxi driver is "I'd like to go to the doctor's house." They say, "Oh, Haltar," and take me right to my door. My dad, Nansungsuring, is just as cute and sweet. They're both around 57 years old. They both treat me like I am truly their daughter, and they treat each other with a tenderness and affection that is, apparently, quite unusual here. They are the world's cutest couple.

My sister, Boloroh, who is in the photo with us, is 17, with the maturity of a 25 year-old and the playfulness of a 5 year-old. She has taught me bunches of games and 2 beautiful Mongolian folk songs, that I will sing at our "Host Family Appreciation" ceremony this weekend. She sings like a sweet songbird, and she's just as beautiful, inside and out. Everywhere we go, she puts her arm in mine. She is also an incredibly patient and helpful teacher. I don't know how she can hear me ask the same questions a dozen times and, each time, act like it is a perfectly reasonable question. I don't know what I'd have done without her.

My 19 year-old sister, Egee, is in the photo to the right. She was only here with us for 2 weeks, since she's a university student in Ulaanbaatar now. Her impact on me was great, though. She is also a beautiful, patient and loving young woman.

The best thing about my family, though, is the laughter. We laugh constantly! Sometimes we laugh at my language mistakes, but usually we just laugh at those things that don't require language to understand. I feel like the Peace Corps couldn't have done a more perfect job in placing me with my family. We all have similar sensibilities, plus there are no little kids banging on my door at all hours, like some of the other trainees have. Those other trainees are fine with their situation, too, so I think we were pretty much all put with families into which we fit great.

So, this week we said very tearful good-byes to our families, with great hopes of visiting often during the next 2 years. These people will certainly live in my heart forever.

Caihan Naadarai!!!

While we melt in the summer heat, may we bid you a belated Caihan Naadarai!!! Using the English alphabet, this is the closest we can get to wishing a great Naadam holiday to you. We experienced our first Naadam, one of the biggest holidays/festivals here. The word, Naadam, derives from the word “naad,” meaning play or rejoice. The festival is an Olympiad of sorts, featuring the “three manly games:” wrestling, archery and horse racing. These games, originating long before Chinggis Khan’s reign in the 1200s, were originally contests of warriors’ skills. The games are held annually in July and span 3 days. Despite being referred to as “manly” sports, women are allowed to compete in archery and horse racing.

Mongolian wrestling is at least as old as the 3rd century B.C. There are no weight classes. It was not surprising to learn that with the hundreds of takedown moves available, the larger man does not always win. The loser in a bout is determined when any body part other than his feet or palms of his hands touch the ground. In the national games in Ulaanbaatar, the field started with 512 wrestlers in a single-elimination tournament. Our Sukhbaater Nadaam began with a field of 256.

The Naadam archers are skilled at hitting targets from great distances. The men take aim from 75 meters away with the women finding the mark from 60 meters. The target is interesting. The archery officials set up a small wall on the ground composed of small cylinders having cork cores and braided leather strap coverings. These cylinders are stacked creating a wall 50 centimeters high and 4 meters long. An archer’s rubber tipped arrow must hit the wall to score. The 6-8 judges for the Sukhbaatar Naadam would wave their arms and sing a brief song to explain a shot’s accuracy.

The horse racing is impressive, but challenging to fully appreciate because the jockeys run a 15-30 kilometer course laid out across open land guided by signs. There are no tracks. There are six age classes of horses and children as young as five run the fast ones because of the kids’ smaller size. The top five finishers are honored with airag (fermented mares’ milk) and the crowd sings songs in praise of the winners. In classic Mongolian fashion, a special song of engouragement is reserved for the last place finisher as well.

Food, and LOTS of it, are a feature of every festival. A standard for Naadam are meat and/or potato hoshers. These are deep fried “hot pockets” filled with minced meat, potatoes, onions and spices. They are simply delicious!!!

The games and big party were lots of fun and we’re looking forward to sharing the experience with those who are lucky enough to visit us here in the future.

Welcome to My World!

Hi again. Jim here. We are now midway through our initial training and the end is in sight. Predictably, the summer is flying by for us. This week marked Mongolia's largest national festival called Nadaam, which is the second oldest-known athletic competition, the Athenian Olympics being older. Next post, we'll tell you more about it.

Meanwhile, it's high time for an introduction to my family and such. Pictured above is my family. They have all spoiled me rotten as is customary treatment for a foreign guest. My "mother," Hishgay is pictured in the lower left. She has a great sense of humor and will force feed me (just shy of physically doing so). She will thank me when I insist I'm full. Just to Hishgay's left is my little sister Gahnaa, who is my best pronunciation coach. She will accentuate the syllables repeatedly for me, getting right in my face to make sure I'm getting them right. She's a big reason I did well in the pronunciation aspect of our recent language test. To my left is my younger "father," Gahnsuhk who is an able handyman, carpenter and a lover of sports, particularly Mongolian and sumo wrestling. He's an excellent shahray and volleyball player, too. Seated behind us is Hishgay's younger brother Ontgo, who has been working in the capital UB this summer. From what I can tell, he's a sweet, soft-spoken young man. Lastly, and certainly not least, is my 16-yr old sister ("doo"), Mongono. She has been my closest attendant who so kindly cooks for us and escorts me to new places in town until I learn to understand directions. They are a wonderful family that has made my existence here comfortable and distraction-free. You may have noticed that I'm the only one smiling. They do like me - honest! It is customary to strike a serious look when photographed despite the joy they take in photography and in sharing photos.

This photo is from my balcony. Yes, I have a small balcony, which is not close to normal for homes here. I have a large second floor room and the balcony has been a great place for me to study and watch some of the Mongolian world go by. I saw THE best lightning show ever from this perch last night.

The women pictured here is my language trainer, Tuya. She has been fantastic and I feel really fortunate to have her as a teacher. She understands a lot of English and though she doesn't use it in her instruction, it has been great when she can often confirm our suspicions about translations. Part of the challenge of all-Mongolian, all-the-time in class is having to struggle to figure out grammar rules and occasionally wondering if the interpretation we decide on is even correct. This happens, regardless the level of English competency a trainer has. Tuya's English capability has reduced a lot of uncertainty for the fortunate few in her class. I am blessed in many ways.

We continue to miss our friends and family a ton, and the constant distraction of newness, all and everyday, does not come close to mitigating that. We hope you are well.

It's A Good Tired!

Hello again from the, aptly-named, Land of Big Sky. Jim here to report that our first three weeks have been filled with language training, laughing at ourselves and with loving, hospitable host families. Our first week of orientation was spent in Darkhan, one of the bigger Mongolian cities north of the capital, Ulaanbaatar. Our first day featured an official welcoming ceremony when we were each presented with blue silk “khadags,” a gift of thanks and respect. We were treated to a marvelous performance of traditional music and dance. We had been wondering when, exactly, the realization would hit us that we really are taking this journey. For me, this ceremony was that time as it marked the literal beginning of our service here and the epiphanal moment when the surreal transformed into the very real. It was the “This is really happening” jolt and my eyes welled up with feelings of satisfaction and pride.

In our host city of Sukhbaatar, the training throughout, be it on language, culture, safety and our program areas, has been terrific. The language training has been pretty intense and exhausting. The language trainers do not use English in class and we rely on each other as classmates to do interpretation. Often we find ourselves staring within inches into the mouths of our trainers in attempts to answer the frequent question “how are they making that sound?” For some sounds, there are no English equivalents. We must sound very funny to people here and our mispronunciation can lead to many laughs. For example, if you don’t say the phrase “It doesn’t matter” just right, you might actually be claiming to have “no nose.” This training period is flying by. We can’t believe we have only 5 weeks of language training until final testing. We have to be capable enough to survive here on our own before we are released to our assigned homes at the end of August.

Our host families have been wonderful to us. The living conditions are not like you’d expect in the States, but we are comfortable and all our needs are being met. The food has been really good. The meals for many families here in Sukhbaatar typically consist of some combination of meat (often beef), potatoes, carrots, cabbage, onions, garlic, rice and noodles. It’s amazing how many yummy dishes can be created. Our favorites have been something called tsuivan, which consists of the main ingredients above, along with boodz and hoeshuurs, forms of meat dumplings that are steamed or fried. Delicious!!! We’ve had a few opportunities to try organ meats, which we’ve passed on thus far. We can’t truly predict what ingredients will normally be available to us when we’re “at-site,” but we should be okay.

Next time we post, we to have family photos to share and we'll tell you about these fantastic people.

Our internet access is limited and we are often moving at sub-dialup speed. We’re finding that during this summer with the intense schedule that this is the most efficient way to communicate. We are very thankful for the emails we receive via our hotmail address and for the letters and packages we get. A couple notes about communications, though: the comments you write on the blog here (which we love to get) are for the world’s eyes, so if you want to be more personal, email is the way to go. Also, please let us know by email if you’ve sent us anything via the postal service. While we’ve gratefully received some mailings we can’t know if your delivery made it here okay, otherwise.

Please know that we finding our experiences to be demanding and exhilarating. Generally, we can find comfort and there’s awesomeness all around us. While we know we can’t change the world, we can help satisfy some basic desires of the wonderful people here and that’s so very rewarding.

Orientation, Week 1

What a ride! And where to start??

After a restful layover, following our 15 hr flight to Seoul, we were ready to meet Mongolia face-to-face with no jet lag.

We were greeted at the airport in Ulaanbaatar, the capitol of Mongolia, by a boisterous group of currently serving volunteers who gave us a heroes welcome. We took a bus, in the dark, to our ger camp (see photo) for the night. It was perfect that we didn't get to see where we were until waking up in the very early morning to see the sun rise over the mountains behind us. Julie was practically in tears from the impact of realizing, suddenly, that we were really looking out on Mongolia. Its beauty met all of our expectations.

As the sun rose, Jimmy and I stepped out to a sky full of magpies, wheatears, hoopoes and the magnificent black-eared kites. It was a sublime beginning to our journey here.

Later in the day, and a four-hour, extremely hot and sweaty bus ride later, we arrived in Darkhan, an aimag (provincial) center north of Ulaanbaatar. The heat was NOT what we anticipated as a big weather challenge for us, but it is HOT right now! The Mongolians are saying that its hotter than usual -- about 90 degrees lately!

We are now in Darkhan, an old, highly Russian-influenced city, for our first four days, to meet the PC folks we'll be working with and to prepare us for our homestays (in Sukhbaatar) which begin next week. The language training we're getting is phenomenal. Julie keeps wishing she was using these techniques when she was teaching at home-- although she's proud to say that she has done a couple of activities that she used to use in her classroom. Lots of games, repetition, and laughter, and zero English. While learning the language is daunting, we're feeling less concerned about our effectiveness here and believe we'll be successful.

The training has been excellent, and the people have been wonderful to work and play with. Our Mongolian language teachers are a group of absolutely adorable, incredibly sweet, funny and highly effective women, who we all adore. And our colleagues are full of enthusiasm and warmth. We never feel funny about inviting ourselves to hang out with anyone at all, and no one seems shy to do that with us. We are thoroughly delighted to be part of this incredible group of people, collaborating on this incredible experience.

In two days we'll step over (not on - bad luck here) the thresholds of our homes for the next 2 1/2 months, and meet our new families. We are filled with butterflies, but know we will be embraced as special members of the family.

Thanks so much for taking the time to read our blog!