The Year of the Monkey

“Mongolians believe that the ‘monkey-year’ brings climatic disasters—severe winters and heavy animal losses. Recent records support this. In the monkey-year winter of 1944-45, one-third of the nation’s livestock (eight million) died due to heavy snowfall. Then again during the monkey-year winters of 1956-57, 1968-69, and 1980-81, bad weather led to more than two million animals dying each time (roughly a 10% national decrease).”

Excerpt from The Changing World of Mongolia's Nomads  by Melvyn C. Goldstein, Cynthia M. Beal

Right now, it’s the year of the sheep, which is neat because I am a sheep according to the Chinese calendar. The Chinese New Year of 2015 even took place on my birthday. So on my birthday, it also became my sheep year the same day. Cool, huh? Baaaaaaaa!

Many of my fellow volunteers have been posting snow pictures on Facebook. It is snowing all over Mongolia. In September. My aimag-mate, Dylan, has also had snow in his soum. Somehow, we here in Chinggis Hot have been spared of the September snow, although we really thought we might get some today. It has been a cold “fall” day, with a high of 40 and low of 23. It was cloudy and rainy today too.

In February, the Chinese New Year takes place on the 8^th. So, guess what that means? The year of the monkey is coming. This winter. AND it will STILL be the year of the monkey during our second winter here. All my colleagues at school have been saying it is cold for September, so we are bracing ourselves. Currently, I am wearing a light pair of thermal underwear, pants, wool socks, a shirt, and a big fleece pullover as I sit in my apartment at 10pm.

Late last night, we were visited by a random, official-looking Mongolian with a clipboard and paper. She came in and started speaking rapid Mongolian at us. We nodded and smiled and heard the word for “heat” and were excited. This evening, our radiators have started to slowly warm up. I don’t know how the magic of radiators work, but we are happy that our heat is being turned on. Unfortunately, we have no control over it, so if they are too hot or too cold, there’s not much we can do about it.

Alabama winter is here. Soon, we will experience temperatures we’ve never felt in our lives. I am a little nervous, especially because none of the stores are selling winter clothes yet. But I am confident we will survive. We will not let the monkey defeat us!!!

~Sally

Cultural Differences Part 2 (Соёлын Ялгаа 2)

Sally and I have coined the phrase “Mongolian standard time” to describe how slow things sometimes happen here. Mongolians tend to be laid back. They are never in a hurry by American standards even when they say they are in a hurry. It is not uncommon for people to arrive to a meeting a few minutes late. If someone is on time to any event then they are early.

As an American it would be easy to describe this laid back perspective as lazy, but that is not accurate. They do work hard. When it comes to schedules, they are just accommodating to the weather conditions, the travel conditions, and someone’s general mood. Mongolian Standard is difficult for an American to adjust to. It is especially difficult for those Americans that had the wherewithal to apply for the Peace Corps. I have learned to just roll with it. I make a habit of arriving on time to events so as to be early. I try not to become annoyed if someone is late in meeting me. In America this is a sign of disrespect or not caring, but here they are simply late because they are late. They are not trying to offend; rather there was something else happening that really seemed to demand their attention. It is as if everyone’s internal clock is running 10 to 30 minutes behind.

As I have adjusted, I have found Mongolian standard to be incredibly relaxing. Imagine if you will, never having to be in a hurry to anything. Imagine letting all of the stress that comes with being on time go, because no one is socially holding you accountable. The potential to view lost time as not wasted minutes, but time to do something else soothes the soul.

Another aspect of Mongolian standard is schedule planning (Төлөвлөгөө). Sometimes by American standards the schedule seems completely empty, because it has not been filled with events. With Mongolian standard and a laid back perspective, planning in the long term can be extremely difficult. There is just not an emphasis placed on goals or planning events until they are almost upon us. This can be stressful and has the potential to cause problems or possibly activities that are not as good as they could be with better planning.

Chinggis Square in UB 

Foreign policy is completely different here. In a recent speech during the summer, the Mongolian Prime Minister said that Mongolia was a pony caught between a bear and a dragon, referring to Russia and China. At the time, my fellow trainees and I decided that Mongolia was not a pony given the strength of the people; rather, they are a falcon. Still there is little a falcon can do to a bear or dragon. When Mongolia became a democracy 25 years ago, it became necessary to adopt a foreign policy that would ensure survival and diplomacy.

Partly for this reason, Mongolia was one of the first countries to declare itself a nuclear free zone. During a time when the arms race was drawing to a conclusion, Mongolia simply stated that they would have nothing to do with it. This policy generated a lot of respect from other countries including the US.

With a lack of resources, but an immensity of land, it became necessary to make treaties with both Russia and China. The purpose of these treaties were to protect Mongolia in case one of these giants invaded. In the event of an invasion, the other giant would be called upon to aid Mongolia.

The third tier of foreign policy was to reach out diplomatically to countries that would assist in trade and resources. These countries include first world developments like the US, Japan, Canada, and South Korea. However, Mongolia lacks a lot of infrastructure, so it is easy for richer countries to take advantage of Mongolian resources. For example, Canadian corporations have some rights to mining in Mongolia. By providing the infrastructure to access resources, these corporations take the vast majority of the profit from the land without returning much to Mongolia. This is one of several reasons for the decline in Mongolia’s economy.

In the US, we adopt a completely different foreign policy. It is debatable that we may have more resources than any other country in the world. We also believe ourselves to possess the most powerful military in the world. These two tiers along with some freedom of capitalism allow for a more aggressive foreign policy. The purpose of this blog post is not to debate what is right, only to point out our differences. A country that operates in what we title developing nation capacity must tackle issues of foreign policy in a completely different way.

This picture from UB illustrates Mongolia Culture.
 The clash of the new technological age and tradition.

Pride is another characteristic the Mongolian people have. They possess pride in their country, their culture, and way of life. They are incredibly proud of their land and the beauty of this country. They are proud of all the nuances of tradition from music to games to food and clothes. The culture is rich and definable. They are proud of their language and the traditional script. Pride in one’s country is a good thing.

This is not a cultural difference from America. We too are proud of our country and way of life. However, as an American something that I find myself learning as I travel abroad is that every single country in the world, every last one, is just as proud of themselves as we are. We tend to think we are the biggest, richest, most powerful country in the world. I stress the awareness that everyone loves their country as much as we do. As every person is different with different strengths and weaknesses, so are all countries unique. The assumption of superiority is disgusting to anyone who also loves their country and is not conducive to healthy diplomacy. In a land where we stress equality of people, we should be among the first to stress equality of countries.  

~Caleb  

Pig Diaries #1

First, a preface.

In our city, there are dogs. And there are pigs. They do not like each other.

Everything below (mostly) is based on personal observation. ANNNDDDDDD scene.

Day 1

Today was peaceful. We saw a couple dogs in the distance, but we were in a group so nothing happened. It’s important to stay in big numbers. It scares them.

Day 2

Last night, they wouldn’t shut up. The drove is tired today. We’ve been hanging out at the local watering hole, just trying to catch up on sleep. We always have one pig on guard duty to watch for suspicious dog activity.

Day 3

This evening, George returned to us distraught. He went on a solo trip to the market. The rest of us stayed home. As he was coming back, a pack of dogs found him and surrounded him. They harassed him, barked at him nonstop, and bit at his legs. He ran all the way home, and I suspect he may have been crying along the way. Tomorrow we will gather to discuss this atrocious event.

Day 6

The drove has been planning a counterattack for days. An opportunity finally arose. Ironically, it was in the exact same location where George was attacked. The dog’s pack leader was trotting carelessly alone, and we surrounded him. He tried to bark us away and act like he was in control, but we knew we had him beat. We chased him until he admitted defeat and ran off. We hope this sends a message to the rest of the pack.

Day 8

The dogs have been keeping their distance. Only one or two have crossed pig territory, but they come and go quickly. Our message was well received.

Day 11

No dog sightings for three days. The small pig, Eric, and the full grown Penelope celebrate by getting it on in the street, except Eric can’t quite reach Penelope in the way he wants. He still celebrates by humping her back legs.

-Napoleon, Head Pig (aka Sally) 

Khorkhog in the Khödöö

Two weekends in a row, Caleb and I have gotten to go into the Mongolian countryside, or khodoo, to experience Mongolian BBQ, or khorkhog. The Mongolian countryside is a place in the middle of nowhere, where the only people around are the people you came with. You can see forever in the steppe, and you know you're in the khodoo when you can't see anyone else for miles in all directions. 

The first time since being at site was two weekends ago on August the 28^th. The Director of Peace Corps Mongolia, Darlene Grant, AND the Chief of Staff of ALL of Peace Corps, Laura M. Chambers, visited our city, along with the COS’s assistant and a couple of other Mongolian Peace Corps staff. Peace Corps staff and some Mongolians in our city helped plan the event and got us hooked up with a family living in a herder’s ger in the countryside. Five of the M26’s from our aimag attended. They even had a Morin Khuur player and singer give us a short performance. Take a look at the video below!

The second time we went into the countryside was last weekend, on Saturday the 5^th. The teachers from my school invited Caleb and I to join them in a beginning of the school year celebration for the teachers. We were there for about 5-6 hours. During this trip, I learned something very important: what happens in the khodoo stays in the khodoo. Therefore, I have much that I won’t write about concerning this trip. It was fun, and I got to integrate with my teachers. Let’s leave it at that.

By the river in the khodoo

What I DO want to write about is this amazing thing called khorkhog. I wrote about it briefly in one of my PST blogs posts, but now I’d like to explain it a bit more and add pictures. I have had khorkhog (Mongolian BBQ) I think 4-5 times. I was SO happy about the first countryside trip in August, because it was Caleb’s first time having khorkhog. He was swooning at the first bite. It’s the best. Here’s how it works.

Step 1: Get a goat (or two).

From the interwebs. I never took a picture of the goats we ate.

Step 2: Kill the goat(s).

Also, from the web.

Step 3: Skin it (optional) and cut up the meat.

From PST, Lexa's picture

Step 4: Make a fire.

From PST, Lexa's picture

Step 5: Place many smooth stones into the fire until they are extremely hot.

Step 6: Place raw meat, onions, potatoes, carrots, water, vodka or beer, salt, and other seasonings along with extremely hot stones into a large pressure cooker or makeshift pot pressure cooker. Seal the lid and place in the fire.

From the August 28th Khorkhog, using a smaller pot

Step 7: Let it cook for 30 min to 2 hrs.

From PST, Lexa's picture 

Step 8: Remove the lid (carefully).

Step 9: Juggle hot stones as a “form of therapy.”

From PST, Lexa's picture

Step 10: Lay out all the meat and veggies in a pan. Grab and eat!!! Also, be sure to have some of the incredible broth soup. It’s the best. Ever.

From PST, Lexa's picture

From PST, Lexa's picture

That’s khorkhog. It is uniquely Mongolian and would be very difficult to emulate in the States. I already know I’m going to miss it when I return to America. Until then, though, bring on the khorkhog!!!

~Sally

The First Week of Work

The walk to school from our apartment is about a mile for me. Sally’s school is maybe a hundred yards away. I don’t mind the walk, but I have found in the case of last week that sometimes I ended up making the trip to school twice for meetings or lunch break. Sometimes my Social Worker and I walk to the primary school in the town center. On days like these the two miles there and back become four or six miles. Still I do not mind, I enjoy walking around town and the forced exercise that comes with living without a car.

When the weather is bad, I can easily catch a cab that, while cheap, is not an everyday luxury. I believe that we saw the 80’s for the last time last week. The weather is slowly getting colder. The nights remain consistently in the 50’s and the days have become pleasant with highs in the low 70’s. I am anticipating the winter to come. A part of me is excited to face the cold, to walk to school in the cold bundled up in every article of clothing I have. There is a romance and adventure to facing the Mongolian winter. As a fan of Mother Nature, I love seeing all aspects of her personality. I look forward to the cold. (Stay tuned for future blog post where my attitude to winter is not nearly as accepting.)

“Тэмүүжин Цогцолбор Сүргууль” Temujin Complex School seems like a really great school. I usually start my days off walking to school in the morning. Lately I have been in an observant and needs assessment phase of my volunteering. My main counterpart is the school’s social worker who does not speak much English. It will take time for me to figure out, with his help, how I can best help the school. I have a number of other counterparts who are English teachers. They are excited to have my help in continuing their English education and perhaps even doing some team teaching in the classroom. The staff has been very friendly and supportive of my efforts to speak Mongolian. I think I made a good first impression on opening day by giving a small speech in Mongolian.

The school has graciously given me a large office/meeting room attached to the social worker’s office. I spent an afternoon last week translating some of the wall hangings in the office. The largest sign reads simply “Нар Хэнйиг Ч Ялгаж Тусдаггүй” and roughly translates in English to “The Sun shines upon no one who is not worthy.”  If that doesn’t sum up compassion, then what does?

On Sunday afternoon, I wandered out to the Naadam Stadium where my school had a track meet. After watching a few races, it became evident that the male teachers would run against each other in 400 meter relay teams. I was selected and told to go the part of the track where the third leg would start with two other guys. It is an odd experience to run a hundred meters and not know who was giving you the stick and who you had to give it too.  Fortunately, body language is always reliable, and as I raced to the group of men who would run the last leg, I maintained the lead that my teammates had given me. There was one guy who was ecstatic to see me coming to him. I made the correct assumption that he was my teammate. He stood on the inner lane, I had been running the outer lane, but I had enough of a lead that this was not a problem. We won.

On Saturday, Sally and I had a Mongolian style adventure that led to us stopping at a herder’s ger many miles to the east of Chinggis Hot “Чингис Хот.” We had just left a river party with Sally’s teachers and were on our way home with the school jijuur “жижүүр,” a woman who may have been his wife, and a small baby. (Jijuurs are awesome! They act as the school’s security guard, key keeper, janitor/maintenance men.) We found ourselves riding in the back seat of a car that was bouncing over flat, green, luscious grasslands. Behind us lay a line of shrubs that marked that passing of the river through the steppe. In the distance to the east, north, and south mountains could be seen. The fresh air created the illusion of closeness, so that the mountains seemed attainable but a keen eye could see the slight bluish tint that gave away their distance. Far to the east, we could see only one indication of Chinggis Hot as it disappeared over the curve of the land. The top reaches of a single tower and construction crane standing like a lighthouse on a sea of grass. (When finished this tower will be the tallest building in our small city with 16 floors.)

As our car bounced west, Sally and I noticed the tower sinking over the horizon, but chose to place our trust in our Mongolian friends. We encountered an annoying stream that forced us to travel upstream for a mile before finding the place where it emerged from the earth and the car could cross. We came to a ger that was not our destination, and after consulting with the women who lived there, we continued to another ger far in the distance. Our destination located, we entered the ger of an ancient Mongolian man who could not hear very well. Also present was an older women, who was probably his daughter.

I write this in an attempt to capture the feeling that both Sally and I shared in this moment. We found ourselves seated on a pallet bed across the ger from this elder and the jijuur who were opening a bottle of vodka that was a present to the old man. Hanging from the wall of the ger were two racks of raw meat, what was once a sheep or goat’s rib cage. The felt walls were lifted around the edge of the ger letting in the cool late summer breeze and exposing wooden lattice frame. The ger was decorated with festive colors that seemed dark and blue compared to the open doorway that opened up upon the whole world: the grass, the distant river, and even more distant mountains. Miles upon miles of isolation, a communion of mankind and nature, we found ourselves in a strange world eons away from what was home. We felt a sense of integration of belonging, as we listened to the jijuur talk loudly into the elder’s ear, as we drank a small amount of vodka that was offered to us. For me, the moment was strangely third world, but comfortably human. Here I was, on the other side of the world, sitting and smiling with my wife next to me. An elder, a slightly less aged elder, a grandmother, a baby feasting on dried cheese curds, a daughter, and two strange Americans welcomed as guests. To capture a feeling in one word…. Beautiful.

~Caleb 

School Has Begun! (9/2/15)

Across the country on September 1^st, school begins. It’s kind of a big deal. In fact, it’s more of a holiday celebration than a real school day. Caleb and I were excited to start working yesterday, but what we ended up doing was going to our schools in the morning, attending our schools’ opening ceremonies, and going home.

I was told to be there at 7:30am. I was five minutes early. The ceremony didn’t start until after 8:30. Mongolian scheduling is one of the many things we will have to adjust to while we are here. The ceremony itself was pretty nice. All the students and teachers were there, and many parents. It took place outside in the courtyard, which was nicely decorated. Several students and teachers sang songs, some teachers and administrators gave speeches, and my ceremony featured two young contortionists who are students at my school. Caleb and I both gave speeches at our ceremonies, too. Caleb bravely gave his in Mongolian. My counterparts told me to give mine in English, so that students don’t think I know any Mongolian. That was easy. One of my CPs (counterparts) translated for me.

My counterpart, Nyamka, and I at my school's opening ceremony

After my ceremony ended, I spoke with my CPs for a bit about scheduling, and they told me to go home. No more classes today. I was kind of disappointed. This was the day I was supposed to start work and actually do something significant with my day. But no. So I went home. And Caleb joined me at home not too long afterwards.

So we napped. Caleb returned to the school in the evening to attend a teachers’ meeting. I got invited to a sort of dinner party for one of our teachers who will be out on maternity leave for the first half of the year. It was pretty fun. My CPs and supervisor were there, and I got to spend time with some of the other teachers I hadn’t really interacted with before. It was a good time, and I had the best soup I’ve had since being in Mongolia. It was so tasty!

Today, Caleb went to school in the morning. I didn’t have any classes until this afternoon, which were supposed to begin at 3pm but somehow changed to 1:30pm without my knowledge – adjustments. I am only observing classes for a few weeks, so I’m not teaching yet. I really enjoyed observing this 5^th grade class. They seem super excited about learning English. There is a lot of enthusiasm and energy. This was about 2 hours, and then I was supposed to observe and 8^th grade class for two hours, but our new English teacher isn’t starting until tomorrow apparently. So again, I was told to go home.

I went to the bank after school to transfer money to pay our rent. While this is a very easy task to take care of in the United States, imagine doing it in a different country, in a different language. But guess what. I was successful! It was a good day.

Ian's cat

Also, another M26 volunteer in our aimag wants a cat. An M25 brought a cat to my apartment today. We are holding on to her until Ian can come collect the cat. She is very sweet.

In other news, I’ve surprisingly had a lot of free time these past two days. A few days ago, I picked up a Stephen King book, On Writing, that I started a while ago. Simultaneously, Caleb told me that I should be writing. So, with Caleb’s encouragement and some inspiration from Stephen King, I’ve been writing a story. I wrote 1000 words yesterday and 1000 words today, and I hope to continue writing 1000 words every day.

Happy September everyone! Leave a comment below if you’d like!

~Sally