February and March

I got back from Thailand the day before my birthday. I spent my birthday relaxing at the guesthouse, watching movies. I only left to go out, eat dinner, and by a little beer.

When I returned to Site, it was time to not do a whole lot because everyone was preparing for Tsagaan Sar. A pretty intense Mongolian holiday. Since I wrote all about the rites and rituals of Tsagaan Sar last year... I'm not going to right now. (it's still there, go read it) This Tsagaan Sar was very different for me because I am now living with a Mongolian family. I got to see a different side of the holiday. I spent Bituun (the night before) and the following day with my family, going to many homes for buuz, mongol beer, salads, airag, and milk tea. The next two days, I went to a couple houses, but I lost my phone and after that my Tsagaan Sar was a little slow. I wasn't too disappointed. Tsagaan Sar is supposed to last 3 days but in actuality, it lasts as long as it wants to. I think it's really... until the food is gone. I didn't have a phone for a little over a week and I actually really enjoyed it. There were certain times when it would have been a nice convenience, but all in all, it was liberating. Some people are still celebrating Tsagaan Sar...


This brings me almost up-to-date. I am currently waiting on one last letter of recommendation (hhmmmm... if you're reading this) and I am ready to submit my application to a graduate social work program at CSULB. So, if I get in.. the plan is to move back to Long Beach and do that. I'm also going to work towards my Child Welfare and Attendance credential, so I can one day be a School Social Worker. The truth is, I don't know exactly how "soon" that will be, but it's a good job that I know I could do... once I"m ready to settle down a little. The problem is that Peace Corps has opened my eyes to a lot more things that I want to learn and get involved in: child labor, human rights, science of some sort, human trafficking, community development, international relations, etc... etc... etc...

I 'might' be taking a little trip to Hovd and Ulgii, and then to Hovsgol... i'll let you know how they go.


possibly more reflections at another time...



peace, love, strength, understanding, and stay positive. these are the important things in life.

Thailand n stuff

So, it's been a while...

I haven't written in a few months. I place complete blame on the fact that my computer cord is broken. I do all my 'blog writing' at home, but without a computer, cannot. So, what have I been up to? I'll take you month by month:

January- I found out in the beginning of January that I would be going to Thailand for a little while. Only 5 days(ish) later, I was on a plane to Bangkok. When talking about Bangkok, where to begin is a constant dilemma for me. I'll just give an overview. I got there not really knowing anything about Bangkok, or Thailand. My hotel was in a very central area, so on the first day/night I simply walked around. I ended meeting a lot of people and learning a little about the city and where I was. My hotel was right next to "lil Arabia", across the street from "sleezy street" and down the way from big fancy malls (these are my own nicknames). I met Saudis in McDonalds and some women in the 'big fancy mall' area... now known to me as the central point for the skytrain (cuz i forget the real name). Anyway, the women that I met were selling jewelry made by women who had been helped out of being trafficked and out of prostiution. Though illegal, prostitution is rampant in Thailand, as most people are well aware. They informed me a little about the city, and of course, my first question was.. "how do I get to the beach?" I wrote down a few places that they'd suggested in and around the city, thinking I'd only be there about a week. The next day, I began my self-guided tours of the city. Bangkok is HUGE and there's sooo much to cover! It was wonderful to be in a place where you really can get by without knowing a single word of the language. People were really helpful, and I wasn't afraid to ask. I felt pretty safe in the city and didn't get nervous walking around at night. Forms of transportation in Bangkok are: taxi, tuk tuk, bus, sky train, river boat, canal boat, and i think there's a subway, though I never saw or used it. Anyway, of course, I headed straight for the river boat. It's crazy how much you miss water when you are sooo far removed from it.

A few days after my arrival in Bangkok, I learned that I'd be there a little longer than intended. To no surprise I'm sure, I B-lined for the Beach. I had met a Peace Corps Kirgestan (sp?) volunteer in the PC office and we headed out together, antsy like two children waiting in line for the bathroom.

Most of the busride, I stared out the window, knowing I wasn't going to be doing a lot of traveling in this trip to Thailand. I watched the scenery and the people go by and stared at everything green (another thing we lack out here). I find that I have completely know sense of direction but I can almost always point in the general direction of the beach, and I ALWAYS know when I'm real close. The girl I was with kept saying she thought we were close and maybe we should get off, I sat tight and simply stated, "i'm not getting off this bus until I see the ocean". As the ocean became visible, I felt all the troubles of work and travel and everything else slightly lift. It's like they were there, but I had MUCH MORE important things on my mind: 1. Get me off this bus 2. where do I get in 3. are we going to make the last farry?

It didn't take long to learn that we had to wait to see if there were going to be enough people for the final farry of the day. I'll tell you what, I was determined to get myself on that Island. I realized I hadn't brought sunglasses to Thailand with me and purchase a huge sunhat instead. We waited, and I starred out into the ocean, my eye on the island in front of us. Just as the sun was getting ready to set, we paid extra money to take a farry across (i didn't mind).

We found a place to stay and kinda parted ways for the next few days, though running into each other for some dinner here and there.

For me, the next few days were absolutely glorious. In Mongolia, I was kinda having a tough time and on my way to using my "mental health" days to take a little breather. The ocean does WONDERS for the mental health! There are very few things sooo physically different from January in the "lower-hungai" (where i live) and the beautiful white sands beaches, warm "cold season" sun, of Koh Samed. I spent the days laying by the beach, eating delicious fruit, swimming, a Thai massage on the beach at sunset, and simply enjoying the free feelings of warmth and no obligations to anyone. I met some people but preferred my time to myself. I was unbelievably sad when my available beach time came to an end and it was time to head back to the BIG city.

I got back and spent the next days running around seeing all the cool sites and monastery's... and of course, riding the river boat wherever I could. The Monastery's were amazing, but after a while they all start to look similar. And I secretly get pissed off when they charge so much for foreigners and nothing for Thai people. I'd be happy to leave a donation for the benefit of your monastery, but since you already forced it out of me, I'm just gonna walk around and people watch til I'm over it and feel like leaving.

I ended up staying in Bangkok for just short of a month and after running around when I first got there, I had time to relax and just enjoy the city afterwards. The rest of my trip was filled with discovering all the different sides of a city of contradictions... and good food! It is interesting how in one city you can have the very poor and the rich Thai people, destinct arabic and african areas, the european expat bars, the sleezy areas, rampant with sex trade and unfortunate females. A place where you can see people selling themselves, either by choice or not, and across the street is full birka-clad women following the men in a train.

As referred by the women I met the first night, I headed to a place called Kousan Road. This ended up being a place that I frequented a few times a week.... and especially on Shabbat! That's right... I SAW JEWISH PEOPLE! haha. I was walking along Kousan watching the hippie paradise going on around me and trying to figure out what gave it that certain vibe... when, to my surprise, I saw a sign in hebrew, "bait chabad" it said. We have chabad house throughout America, but I was not exactly to find it in Bangkok... little did I know they are all over the world! Not knowing really what it was, I walked up and started asking questions. It was funny, the guard was very suspicious of me and it took me a while to convince him that I'm Jewish. Due to my Mongolian learning process, I find that I no longer know any Spanish or Hebrew and honestly could not even put together a sentence in Hebrew. By the end of my trip, it started coming back to me.

Shabbat in Thailand:

I returned to the Chabad house for my first legit shabbat in a LONG TIME. I honestly didn't know what to expect, but somebody had told me to come for shabbat, so I did. I arrived and the place was empty. I found some stairs towards the back. I walked up, into a post-prayers room of eating and talking Jews. It was amazing! There must have been about 400 people there! I sat down in a free seat and had already gotten used to explaining to people, "I don't speak hebrew" ( i need to learn!). It was funny because when people found out that I don't speak hebrew, they immediately assumed that I don't know anything about Judaism, including the American I met. Most of the people were Israeli, with a few other foreigners. After dinner and singing (the same songs we sing at home), I met up with some people I had met earlier in the week and we joined the group for Oneg Shabbat. There was UNLIMITED amounts of food. It was such and interesting feeling to be back in a room full of Israelis. Keep in mind, I was in Israel right before I came to Mongolia. For Oneg Shabbat, we sat and talked and ate for a little while, and then the rabbis started asking people to stand and introduce themself and tell a story, or sing a song. Everyone was speaking in Hebrew, when he looked at me and asked me to speak. My friend told him to wait ask someone else to go, while he explained to me what was going on (something I'm WAY used to). After, I understood that the Rabbi was just asking me to say something, and some of the things others had said, I informed my friend to tell the Rabbi that I wanted to share a story. I can teach any lesson without feeling any amount of nerves, but for some reason, in this situation, as I do when called upon in a class, I get really nearvous. Despite this, I stood up and apologized that I don't know Hebrew and would be speaking in English. Of course, everyone in the room knew English, and were just happy that I was going to share. I introduced myself, explained that I live in Mongolia and celebrate/acknowledge each Jewish holiday on my own. A room full of travellers who make sure to spend every shabbat with either resting, or with Jews, were absolutely shocked. I could hear people saying things about how horrible that was. I continued to describe a tiny bit about life in Mongolia and began telling them the story of when I first discovered this Chabad House: After convincing the guard that I am infact Jewish, and showing him my passport, per his request..... as if there's JEW stamped across the top, I proceeded through the kosher restaurant, immediately engulfed in smells and sounds of Israel. I walked up the stairs towards the back and observed the people around me; reading, chatting, drinking tea, on the internet, sleeping, and calling Israel. I was completely mesmorized by all the hebrew and shocked at how this whole exprience was effecting me. At first, I didn't even want to talk to anyone. I walked towards the back where there is a small synagogue/ study room. I looked at the tallitot strewn about the chairs, books on the tables after an obvious study session, and I peered inside the modest ark with a single Torah resting inside. I sat down in the back of the room, continued to the listen to the bustling hebrew outside the door, and to my absolute surprise... my eyes started to water. I was that moved by the whole scene, how much I've missed the Jewish community, and the fact that I found this in place where I wasn't expecting. Coming to Thailand, I knew there were more likely to be Jewish people in Thailand than Mongolia, but I didn't expect to just run into them.

After sharing this story at Oneg Shabbat, a lot of people approached me telling me what the thought. Some were inspired, others felt bad for me, others were mad at the guard for making me convince him I am Jewish, some had questions about Mongolia or were planning trip to Mongolia, and others simply wanted to speak English. Turned out there was one other person who didn't know hebrew, one canadian, and on American who had made Aliyah. For maybe 5ish hours people sat around, telling stories, talking (and translating), eating, and singing songs. There came a point where I knew that if I was going to come back the next day, I would have to go to bed. Unfortunately, I could not completely keep Shabbat, due to my hotel being far away from this place. I returned the next day in time for lunch, singing, conversation, and prayer. By then, I was familiar with a lot of people from the previous night. After Shabbat, a group of us headed to a World Music Festival that was going on in Bangkok. The following two nights were filled with good company, wonderful music, and good food. I even ate crocodile ribs! And it was delicious.

I can't possibly write about everything I did in Thailand, but let's just say... it was awsome! I really hope to go back one day and see more of the country. While I was there, I met some of the Peace Corps volunteers in the office and learned a little bit of another side of Thailand. I never really considered myself the "lone traveller", but I learned in Thailand that I love it! I met people everywhere I went, and I think that you see things in a different way when you are just wandering around by yourself. Though, there were a few Peace Corps friends who passed through Bangkok while I was there and some people I met in the Airport in Korea on my way back from the states were also there. Some of the coincidences and ways I have met people in the past 2 years is a little bit crazy... just the world working in mysterious ways...

Seein Mongolia

12-20-2008

I’ve been away from my site for about three weeks now, and just came back a few days ago. I have had a little bit of an adjustment period coming back, trying to get back into work and back into my ‘ger life’. It got significantly colder while I was gone and I came back to everything in my ger being frozen, including my huge jug of water. The ice expanded and blew out the bottom of my jug. I will buy a new one tomorrow. This is a bummer but in a way it is ‘lessons learned’. Lesson #1 is that I don’t need one that big and it is better to get two smaller ones. Lesson #2 is that I need to dump my water before I leave for a significant amount of time. (Dually noted)
I came back to a new counterpart (person I work with). It was a little awkward at first, but I introduced myself and we talked a little. I get the feeling that she was not told about me when she was hired and she just thinks I’m there to teach English. I am not just there to teach English, but I will teach anyone who is truly ready to learn. (These are few and far between)

I’ve been trying to make more of an effort to see more of the country this year. I want to visit other aimags and people’s soums. Before I leave, I’m definitely going to need to a little more traveling, even if that means COSing (Close Of Service) 30 days early and taking that time to take a look around. I recently went to Kharkhorin, which is a soum in my aimag. It is a large soum and very popular on the tourist’s map, as it is the late capital of Mongolia. There is a big and well-known monastery that attracts a lot of attention. I went there to visit a friend, and also to do some work. The good thing about traveling in Mongolia is that you can often work and travel at the same time. I visited the schools and observed some lessons that were a result of a training I did last year. Unfortunately, in my time in Kharkhorin, I did not make it to the monastery. But this is ok because it will just drive me to go again. It is not very far from my town and there are relatively reliable cars that go every day. When I was in Kharkhorin, I met up with some other PC volunteers, who came down from Arkhangai and were on their way to my town for the school break. We stayed a night in Kharkhorin and then all headed down to my town. It was fun having so many people here, but it can also be tiring when you have to work, but nobody else does. They stayed for a little while and then headed back to their homes. The following week, I decided to help some of the volunteers in Dungovi with their English Olympics. These are English competitions that go on throughout the country. The winners can get money, dictionaries, money for University, or an invitation to a University in UB. They can be taxing on the volunteers, but are important to Mongolia. We filled up a car with students and teachers who wanted to participate in the neighboring aimag’s English Olympics and headed for Mandalgov, the aimag’s capital. This gave me a chance to see another part of the country, support the students and teachers, see some friends, and help out the volunteers in Dungovi. Dungovi is in the Gobi desert, which I hope to visit again. According to Lonely Planet, the Gobi desert is the least populated area of the world. I was only in the aimag center walking with my friend, and couldn’t help but chuckle at the amount of enjoyment I got simply out of walking on the soft sand of the Gobi. I’m sure being in the Gobi in spring, when the winds are fierce, is NOT FUN! But for the time being I was enjoying the closest thing to the beach I’m going to get for a while. So, I walked in the sand next to my (New York) friend, who preferred walking in the snow. After we did the English Olympics (which begins in the morning and finishes late at night), I had a couple days to see the aimag center. My friend showed me around and took me to a monument of a LARGE Murenhuur (instrument), and a LARGE drum, often found at monasteries. I don’t know the history behind this monument, but it seems like every aimag center has something. The people in Dungovi were really nice, even when I said the wrong aimag in a toast (oops!).
After my time in Dungovi, my friend and I hopped on the bus to the capital to celebrate Thanksgiving a few days late, but with many friends. While in UB, I enjoyed a total of 3 massages! (that’s a splurge) But they were badly needed, and greatly appreciated. There is a place in UB that is legit and almost feels like America… Or so I assume, since I’ve never gotten a massage in America. For the Thanksgiving dinner, the embassy provides turkey and everyone else brings something. I brought a side salad that I had at a Korean restaurant. (I’m lazy) Many people made delicious cakes and stuffing.
Days in UB can get really expensive due to all the things you can get there, but nowhere else in the country. I ate a lot of Korean food (one of my new favorites) and other delicious things. There is even a few REALLY good vegetarian places that serve reasonably priced food and jenkin (real) salads with smoked cheese! I spent a few days enjoy the luxuries of UB and catching up with friends and a couple days planning for the training I was about to partake in. Then I headed for Nukht, a pretty nice hotel (my standards may be different than those reading this), and prepared for the next day arrival of the M19 volunteers. (These are the same guys as the ones I trained in the summer) Three and a half days filled with trainings, evaluations, food, and laughter and I found myself back in UB, getting ready to perform phase 2 of a project that I’m working on in Darkhan (the second, or third, largest city in Mongolia… depending on who you ask). I spent the weekend in UB and headed up to Darkhan with another volunteer, a translator, and my approved project money. We taught some lessons and headed back to UB the same day. Two days later, I was on a bus headed for my town.
Travelling around is a lot of fun, but can also be tiring. I came home to my frozen water, and a mess in my ger (my fault… I forgot to do the dishes). It’s only a couple days later, and I am enjoying the warmth of my fire and night to myself. It’s amazing how much I love and appreciate the time I get to myself. I’ve always been a pretty social person, but sometimes I feel like I could go months without seeing anyone and be perfectly happy. Before I leave Mongolia, I plan on doing a 10 day silent meditation. I know a couple people who have done it, and I really look forward to experiencing it for myself.

(As I write this, I get up every so-often to check on the fire and make sure it doesn’t go out, and add some wood and/or coal if needed. Tonight I have actually had a relatively steady fire and have managed to prevent turning my ger into a sauna. Progress.)

When I joined the Peace Corps, I had no intentions of teaching English. I even debated whether or not I believed people should be going abroad “imposing” their language on another people. I did not know the inevitability of teaching English abroad. I have since changed my views on the issue. I now find myself wanting to teach English for a variety of reasons. I don’t necessarily want this to be my sole purpose here, but I am not closed to teaching any ready and willing student. It is amazing the amount of people who have asked me to teach them English, especially when you compare it to the amount of people who continue to show up or message me for lessons. Now, I’ll admit, when I was in America studying Spanish I was not exactly the best student and didn’t study as much as I could have, and I understand the difficulties of learning a foreign language outside of a country that speaks it, and for this reason, I will teach any student who puts forth the effort to simply show up for a lesson. In my time here I have learned the importance of English in the international world, which trickles down to people’s everyday lives. I have first hand seen how English can make or beak someone, how reports from Unicef will come in English and they expect reports back in English, how a person who only knows a basic level of English will get any job before a person who does not know any English. From situations as simple as staying in the guesthouses to as complex as working for Child Labor, English has proven helpful, not to mention the accessibility of information in books and on the internet. While I have grown an appreciation for the importance and usefulness of the language, I have also, through first hand experience, gained the knowledge of its difficulty. There are too many instances when, even to the BEST English speakers, you can not explain why ‘we say it this way and not that way’. English does not always make sense, and there are so many rules, and each rule has its exceptions, and each exception has its exceptions. I give props to any person who has successfully learned English as a Second Language, as it must be very difficult. I have been learning Mongolian for a year and 7 months and still am not where I’d like to be (though, I still find myself not to be the overachiever I never was). I give EVEN MORE props to anyone who has successfully learned English as a Foreign Language, as this has got to be a trying feet. I have now been in English classrooms in Israel and Mongolia, and find that more often than not there are teacher’s who don’t really know English, teaching English. This is insane!!! At a basic level, it is ok to teach the principles of a language in someone’s natural language, but there comes a point when, for the kids to have a decent chance and sufficiently learning the language, the class needs to be taught in the language being learned. This I appreciate as much when I taking Spanish as I do now. I am thankful that English is the one language that I don’t have to learn. (Though I could significantly brush up on my grammar knowledge) Those who learn English and really know it end up knowing it much better than I do. I don’t know all the rules and tenses, but I am thankful that I can speak it.
I encourage all you English majors, and people who find English interesting to get out there and start teaching people. English is a useful tool all over the world and can only help those who are learning it. I remember when I was in University people would say that there’s nothing for English majors to do but teach. This sounded so boring to me at the time, but I didn’t realize how interesting it could be. Teaching English could take you all over the world, and the funny thing is, you don’t even have to have a degree. All you need is the ability to speak it. People will train and provide resources for you to come to their country and teach English. They will pay good money for natural English speakers; all you need is a college degree… in any subject.

A shout out to the fam!!!

10-26-2008

This weekend was my cousin’s bat mitzvah in Michigan. In my time abroad I have missed out on weddings, birthdays, babies, and other momentous occasions of my friends and family. The only time I get a little homesick is when my work isn’t going well and one of these moments is passing me by (luckily, work is going pretty well). I have found that I am quite the family person. My family has been spread out throughout a few states for my whole life, and I always looked forward to the times when we all came together for whatever occasion it was that brought us there. I remember when I was young, first telling my mom that I wanted to move to Michigan one day… then some amount of years later, I changed to Arizona. These days, I know better. Michigan is a great state and I now know that I can handle the cold, but I would never commit myself to dealing with the cold year after year… with no known end. Arizona has a lot to offer, but I just can’t imagine being somewhere warm and not having the beach. I used say that Arizona would be perfect if it just had the ocean. However, the best things these states have to offer me is family. Many of my Aunts, Uncles, and Cousins are in Michigan right now, celebrating the Jewish coming of age of my only (first) cousin younger than me. The last time everyone gathered together in such an event was my other cousin’s wedding. And the next time (I think) will be one year from now at another cousin’s wedding. Over the years, we have only seen each other sporadically; sometimes more than others… but every time despite the physical distance I have always felt a closeness with my family, even if we don’t talk all the time. I may not have been there for every relationship, or breakup, wedding, child, or other momentous occasions, but that does not change my love for them. Some I haven’t talked to in years and others, the internet has provided an easy way to say “what’s up” every once in a while. We all have gone our separate directions leading our lives differently. In my family, we have a beautifully wide array of life paths; we’ve got doctors, lawyers, iron workers, probation officers, computer techies, store workers/owners, secretaries, teachers, and much more. (I’ve never been fond of groups of people who are all the same). We’ve got the outdoorsy, and the indoorsy, the book worms, bike riders, sports fanatics, and whatever other classification you decide to come up with. And somewhere, I fall into that mess. But we all come from the same blood. (and I include any and all members who have married in… in this instance, blood is used figuratively)
To be honest, I have few solid memories of my times spent with my family, as I was pretty young for most of them. I could probably come up with more if I thought hard or had the chance to reminisce. But this loss of recall of specific memories does not change my love for them.
Our family seems to only gather for occasions. Being the (2nd to) youngest of a bunch of cousins, I was pretty young for many of the occasions and have foggy memories of all the bar mitzvahs, deaths, and weddings. I think where my memory starts to become a little more clear is my grandmother’s death (though still patchy), and though it was a somber occasion, there is nothing more beautiful than spending so much time together (due to the Jewish tradition of sitting shivah). The next, I believe was my bat mitzvah… a whirlwind of events that I hardly remember, ending in my aunt and cousin moving to Michigan. If I recall correctly, the next time a large amount of us were together (that I was there for) was my Cousin M’s wedding. It had been a long time and we had all grown quite a bit. And thanks to my photo happy hands, I have some awesome snapshots of my family that I was sure to bring with me to Mongolia. That was the last time I was at a large family gathering, and the next will be my for my other cousin M’s wedding, which will be immediately after I return from this whirlwind of challenges, experiences, and at times, solitude, that we call the Peace Corps. There is nothing I would rather do after completing my time here than to see a large chunk (at least) of my family. You’ll notice, I never refer to these gatherings as my WHOLE family… this is because my WHOLE family is never there. Due to the size, some are always missing for whatever reason… leading to even larger gaps between the times that I see some family members. But the truth is, no amount of time can go by that will cause me to lose site of the meaning of family. And I think that being so far away has made me more apt to keep moving when I am back in the U.S. So, if you are reading this (some are)… be ready for some visits!!! (maybe I can even drag my mom along ; ) and for those of you who are reading this and are not in the family…. I’ll briefly explain. She’s not exactly the ‘traveler’ (sorry ma! It’s true! But my public props to you for getting out a little more while I’ve been gone) If I’ve done nothing else in the peace corps, at least I did that… unknowingly influenced my mom to go somewhere new.

And this is where I’m going to take a minute to give some props to the other part of my family… commonly known as my friends. The way I see it, there are small differences between ‘family’ and ‘friends’… at least, for a person who has been as fortunate as me to have many lifelong friends. It is very interesting when you go so far away to see what happens to your relationships. Some you hear from every day, some once in a while, others you’ll never hear from until you are back… and that’s ok. I think I’ve made it clear above that a person does not need to be in my eyesight, or even earshot, for me to hold them dear to my heart. There are many people that, even when I was in the states, I had somewhat lost touch with, but this doesn’t change the love. Some of my friends I have known since preschool or kindergarten, others I met when I was in middle school, high school, college, or post-college. And with each person, there is a connection that drew us together. No matter what path we pick, no matter our mistakes, achievements, or idleness, there is always the connection that caused us to become friends in the first place. Just like my family, I can not see these people for many years, but the moment I see/talk to them, the relationship is picked right up with an ease that makes you appreciate the invisible energy force that brings two (or more) people together.

And to come full circle, I want to end this blog with a HUGE CONGRATULATIONS to my cousin D for her Bat Mitzvah. I’m sure that she did wonderfully and I can’t wait to see the pictures. I’m sad I was unable to be there for this occasion, but I’m sure you all enjoyed and appreciated your time together. And I best see you all in a year!

ger livin.... ger lovin

this was written a little while ago... but might as well post it. i'll just apologize a head of time for the crappy writting lately, i just haven't been in the zone... lucky i'm writing at all!


My life has changed a bit since I moved into my ger. First of all, it is great to have a Mongolian family to live with. The children love to hang out in my ger, and Baatar, who lives in another ger, loves to come by to watch English movies or to speak English. I don’t have as much time to myself, but it is well worth it, and it’s possible that will change a little as winter sets in. I now get my water from the well and light fires to keep warm. Lighting fires is possibly one of my favorite things about my ger. In the winter, there will be some very cold times… usually in the morning, but once my fire is well-lit my ger warms up pretty quickly. Also, my family gave me dung, which is GREAT because it lights really quickly! It is pretty well insulated, so it holds the heat for a sufficient amount of time. I love the feeling of the warm fire on my skin. No matter how cold it is outside, I can make it nice and toasty in my ger. It’s like having a bonfire in the middle of the room. It must be the California girl in me that likes to make it nice and hot in my ger… and then I step outside to feel the cold air on my skin. I don’t think I will ever claim to be an expert at lighting fires, as sometimes it takes a lot longer than others. I love the feeling of lighting the fire to stay warm and enjoy cooking over the fire as well. Not having running water is really something that I have become indifferent to in my time in Mongolia. True, I don’t take regular showers, but bucket bathing gets you just as clean and can also be relaxing. (not to mention, that I had to do this even when I had running water and I could always go to the shower house…) It is really hard to explain to people who have never been in a ger, how comfortable they are. It sounds weird, but there really is something about not living with corners that creates a very relaxing and comfortable atmosphere. My ger is small, but I really don’t need much space. I’ve never been one for LARGE living spaces, so I kinda like the size.
Winter is just beginning, after a pretty long fall… I get the feeling that the winter is going to be a little more difficult for me this year. Part of this is self-induced by moving into a ger, but the other part is mental. I always new that I wasn’t really a ‘cold-weather’ person, but had never really tested myself. I am now going on my second winter living in one of the coldest climates in the world… and I can honestly say; I am dreading it. I know that the winter will come progressively, as it did last year, and I will continue to add layers to the clothes that I wear, but I also know that the winter is LONG… really LONG. I know that it will be cold for a long time. On a good note, I have my ger, and I can make it as hot as an Israeli summer in here if I want. But it’s also a bit of a walk from town and I will end up spending a lot more time walking to and from work this year. I know that I just need to get in the right mentality. Last year, it was all very new to me and was more about seeing what it was like to live where it’s too cold, while this year, I feel like I will be mentally testing myself. I know I hate to be cold, and I knew it coming into the Peace Corps in Mongolia, but after this I can check it off my list of things to do… live in a cold place (check), then I’ll grab my surfboard and stay in warm places for a while. Believe it or not, despite all my griping, I can tell that I have toughened up a little since last year. This time last year, I was already wearing my long johns and my heavy coat. This year, I’m still wearing my California-made jacket. Only yesterday did I step into the world of wearing a beanie, but I left it at home today. This is either due to global warming… or it means the cold doesn’t defeat me as quickly as it did last year. (I’m hoping the latter)

Ha Ha, check out this article! <3 mongolia!

The Mongolia Obsession
The Most Disgusting Food. Ever.By Tim WuPosted Thursday, Sept. 25, 2008, at 6:58 AM ET


I have eaten my fair share of food that some people might label "gross." There was even a time, in my early 20s, when I made quite a habit of it. Pigs' ears or fried crickets? Please. That's kids' stuff. I prefer to test my limits: Pass the duck brains.
It is a test of will, not unlike diving off a high cliff, when you order your hand to put something into your mouth while every instinct screams, "No!" And sometimes a food that looks strange can be quite pleasant in ways you don't expect. I have fond memories of the time I ate a squirming live octopus tentacle in Korea—not only did it taste pretty good, it also brought fond memories of a woman who used to twirl her tongue while French kissing. I wish I could say that snake blood brought on fond memories, but it just tasted like a nosebleed. On the happier side, I can report that deep-fried scorpion tastes just like cricket.
Unfortunately, none of this prepared me for the culinary horrors of Mongolia. I, who consider myself the owner of an iron will and a stomach to match, still shudder when I think about some of the things I ate and drank there. There were times when I longed for a nice plate of deep-fried scorpions.
If you have ever wondered why we generally drink cow's milk, I can tell you: Most of the other types of milk are just disgusting. They get under your skin in a special dairy sort of way, rather like eating a stick of butter every morning might. Forced to choose, I think I'd say the best is yak milk, especially if it's hot. But I would stay away from horse milk unless it's been distilled into alcohol. Camel's milk, I shudder to recall, is musky and feels like drinking bottled smoke. (I think I finally understand why Camel is a brand of cigarettes.) Consider also that Mongolians like their milk heavily salted, and the phrase acquired taste takes on new meaning.
As an all-dairy nation, and probably the world's worst place to be a vegan, Mongolia is very cheese-centric. I am below no man in my taste for what some people might describe as abhorrent forms of cheese. I like English cheddars that have gone rotten and overaged gorgonzola that has turned brown. But the problem with Mongolian "cheese" is that it is nearly as hard as rock and as acidic as battery acid. Eating it is not horrific, but it is rather exhausting.
All this is surely survivable. It is the mutton, the unending mutton, that gets to you. After just a week, I felt like the Troll in The Hobbit who complains, "Mutton yesterday, mutton today, and blimey, if it don't look like mutton again tomorrer."
The common complaint about mutton is that it is gamey. Granted. But the insidious part is not so much the flavor as the smell. When I returned to Beijing, Evan Osnos, now at The New Yorker, who has done some great writing on Mongolia's gold rush, asked me, "So, do you still smell like mutton?"
I did.
To be fair, Mongolian cuisine had certain satisfactions. After a day of hard riding, gnawing on mutton bones seemed entirely appropriate. Mutton dumplings and mutton mixed with noodles can sometimes be good. And after a while, I developed a taste for fermented horse milk, particularly when distilled to a clear liquor—though it may have just been that a few shots did wonders for the mutton.
I can also report that Mongolian vodka did the job, though I wasn't that excited about Bimba's way of preparing it. In the morning, large black beetles would gather under our tent seeking warmth. Bimba thought it a good idea to flavor the vodka with a few of these beetles—their death throes adding a Genghis Khan touch to the whole thing.
On our very last morning on the road, the mutton problem became a crisis. At fault was our dear driver, Bimba, who decided it was time to celebrate the trip by buying a whole sheep and slaughtering it. As we went into a local ger to eat breakfast, I noticed that the sheep's head had been removed, and the internal organs were being poured into a giant pot, the same way you might empty a can of beans.
Surely this was to feed the dogs, I thought. No one really wants to eat the lungs, stomach, and intestines of an aged sheep.
Au contraire. I'm sorry to say that we had to watch the whole mess boiling for a while on the dung fire, yielding bubbles of brownish-gray scum. Afterward, a giant steaming bowl of internal organs was placed before us with some ceremony. Out came knives and a mixture of anatomy lesson and breakfast as we sampled one organ after another. I must stress the degree to which our dear friend Bimba considered this the way to cement our friendship. There was no backing away from trying each and every organ and making a good go of the whole thing. Even fearless Miki looked a little pale.
Comparatively speaking, I suppose the stomach and heart were the highlights. Despite our host's enthusiasm, I felt there was something deeply fishy about the lungs—they had a spongy texture that you had to bite hard to get through. There were many organs that I didn't really recognize but also did not enjoy. And as for the intestines and connecting flesh covered with fat, I felt, for the first time, what 19th-century writers refer to as "rising bile." I said to myself, "This is like a horror film, except I am eating the special effects."
All the while, the sheep's severed head sat off to one side, watching us sadly. Next to him sat his forearms and legs, placed in a small pile. But fear not. We did pack that head into our jeep, and back in the capital, we ate him for lunch. "Omoshirokatta," said Miki. "That was interesting!"

http://www.slate.com/id/2200544/entry/2200548/

Milk tea and progression

10-10-08 (i think)


(this picture was taken from the internet)













I was in the countryside with my director and her family, visiting some good friends of theirs. After going through many of the usual rituals of drinking tea, airag, and vodka and after the usual discussion about how good I am because I drink Mongol tea, eat Mongol food, and drink Mongol airag; the Mother of the household went outside to get some milk so she could make a fresh batch of milk tea. She milked a few goats and came back with a tin pail full of milk. She lit the fire, poured water into the large wok, along with the green Mongol tea leaves, and when the tea was brewing to her liking, she added the milk she had just retrieved. She proceeded to churn the tea with a large deep spoon, filling it with liquid, lifting it above the wok and pouring it back in, in a series of fluid motions that she had done millions of times throughout her life, probably beginning around the age of 4 or 5. She then added some salt and sifted a little while longer; all the while the rest of the people gathered in the ger, (around 8 or so) talked, drank airag, and played the finger game around her. I sat there, participating in the finger game, airag drinking, and conversation where I could… all the while my eyes kept returning to the woman making milk tea. It was nothing I hadn’t seen a million times before, and it seems everyone makes milk tea the same way, but the motions of her weather worn hands caught my eye each time I found myself in between conversation opportunities. In these situations, I either leave the Mongolian that is too fast for me to understand as background noise to my thoughts and my body simply feeling the experience, or occasionally I test myself to see how much I can understand. As the woman put the strainer over the tea pot and poured the freshly made milk tea through it, leaving the tea leaves behind, my thoughts returned to the woman making tea and I watched her serve each person in the ger, beginning with the oldest male of the household, proceeding to the oldest woman, and so forth. I sat with my tea, allowing the Mongolian words to swirl around the room with the steam rising above my hands. I began to think of the entire tea making process that I had just witnessed. It was at this very moment that I realized how far I have come in my cultural development, for this woman had just milked a goat for our milk tea, and I sat there and drank it without a second thought. In fact, I didn’t even blink twice when she went outside and came back with a tin full of milk. In the past year, I have been exposed to many different situations that I would NEVER experience in America, and it is interesting to think what kinds of things I have gotten so used to in my time in Mongolia, for this is a truly amazing country with a beautiful culture.

I sit here writing this, burning hot in my ger, almost exactly 24 hours from our first snow of the year. I have kept my fire relatively lit throughout the night, and it is like a furnace in here. Every so often, I step outside to feel the brisk “winter” air on my open skin. I put winter in quotes simply because this is not even close to what the winter will get to… this is just the beginning.