In the US, gender stereotypes are slowly being broken down. Yet in Mongolia, some students have yet to learn the difference between “sex” and “gender”. “Sex” is the term used to define the sexual reproductive organs with which a person is born, while “gender” refers to either society’s view of the biological sex’s role or a person’s own perceived view of his/her sexuality. A couple weeks ago, I taught a class with my counterparts that had the students identify gender stereotypes present in Mongolia and ultimately tried to instill in them that these stereotypes are restrictive and do not mean that people who do not adhere to gender roles are any less of a person.
The class turned out to be more complicated than expected as some of my counterparts (CPs), after the first day of the lesson, told me that they think stereotypes are good because they show people how to act. In what ultimately became an educational discussion, various teachers and I discussed why gender stereotypes and stereotypes in general are restrictive. When discussing how many men in the US can cook and that some men are stay-at-home dads while the moms work, my CPs seemed skeptical that this would be possible in Mongolia. I informed them that I know of at least three couples where the husband cooks more frequently than the wife. In response to this, one of my CPs exclaimed, “wow, what a lucky woman”! I learned that although women may want changes, these changes are only present in Ulaanbaatar and, according to Mongolian woman, are largely nonexistent outside of the capital.
After this discussion, the classes were more on track with the goal of the lesson. I learned an outdated Mongolian idiom: “үсний урт оюун ухаан богино” meaning “women have long hair, but their intelligence is shorter than their hair”. This was a phrase that came up during each class as an example of gender stereotypes that Mongolian students would understand. Afterwards, each class was split into four groups: two male groups and two female groups. One group from each sex was assigned to discuss stereotypes or words regarding “act like a man”, while the remaining two groups discussed “act like a lady”. There were some phrases that came up frequently, such as: men have a higher position in society than women, women are the light of the family, women have long hair, men have short hair, women are more emotional, men are the support of the family, women can have a baby, men cannot have a baby, etc. It was interesting seeing how students’ responses got longer, more detailed, and generally more insightful each consecutive grade up. My favorite comments came from one of the 7th grade girl groups writing about men; they were quite the sassy bunch:
Men are in two groups: ones who understand women well and ones who don’t
When boys make mistakes 1000 times, girls continually say sorry
When girls make one mistake, boys start World War 3
Overall, it seemed that the girls writing about men had respectful and mostly positive views, yet some boys writing about women had negative and almost contradictory views, saying that “women take problems more seriously than men, but their quality of work is lower” or that “women respect men” (but do men respect women?). Although most groups wrote that men rank higher in society than women do and have higher-up positions, one group of proud girls in 9th grade wrote that “women have a higher position than men in society. If a man can do it, so can a woman, so women should have higher positions in society”. In 9th grade, more comparisons were made: women are the engine of the car, men are the wheels. Check out all the students’ comments below!
7th grade students’ summary on gender stereotypes in Mongolia
9th grade students’ summary on gender stereotypes in Mongolia
8th grade students’ summary on gender stereotypes in Mongolia
6th grade students’ summary on gender stereotypes in Mongolia
At the end of the lesson, students were asked: “if a man is cleaning the house, does this make him less of a man?” (although the Mongolian translation came out to mean “if a man is cleaning the house, is this necessary work?”… apparently the phrase “less of a …” does not translate or have an equivalent in Mongolian). Out of all the classes in grades ranging from 6th to 9th grade, only one student responded with “necessary”. Surprisingly, the student was male. All the female students vehemently stated that it is not necessary for a man to clean the house. Now, I have a few hypotheses as to why the girls, for whom house work is an extra chore, said “not necessary” while the boy said “yes”. Adult women receive the brunt of the house work; this means that the girls, who complete household chores, are not yet overwhelmed. Perhaps this leads them to feel that completing the house chores is a sense of pride and the necessity of men cleaning the home would undermine the quality work they do. In addition, the sole boy who answered “necessary” was raised by a single mother after his father passed away, giving him a slightly different point of view on gender stereotypes in Mongolia.
6th grade example of notes on gender stereotypes
9th grade example of notes on gender stereotypes
8th grade example of notes on gender stereotypes
7th grade example of notes on gender stereotypes
By the end of the lesson, I could never be sure whether I had ultimately reinforced gender stereotypes or demonstrated that adhering to stereotypes can be detrimental. As a result, I always made sure to end the lesson by asking my Mongolian counterpart to say “all human beings, boy or girl, experience a range of emotions and desires not limited to their gender. We learn stereotypical behaviors through how society thinks men and women should behave. Mongolians are diverse in many ways, and diversity is growing every day, creating the need for tolerance and empathy.” Hopefully, my students have at least been introduced to the ways in which gender stereotypes limit their potential.
Throughout my time in the Peace Corps, I have learned that the changes that arise are not monumental, but rather small changes in how people think that will eventually be passed down through generations. I’m hopeful that my students learned that they must not be confined to the limits of their gender.
Before coming to Mongolia, I could count on one hand how many times I had cooked a meal entirely independently (exactly five times). My mother was worried I would slowly starve, returning to the States merely as a sack of skin and bones. Luckily, that has turned out not to be the case. During PST, I lost about 12 pounds of which I have gained back about 5 since being at site. This most likely has to do with cooking becoming a staple in my life.
Peace Corps Volunteers crave aspects of their life which they can control. So many decisions are made for us or only with permission, from travel to adopting pets. As a result, volunteers focus on the parts of life which are under their control. Female volunteers, for example, frequently go through various hair styles and even colors in an attempt to have some semblance of control. While I have opted not to go this route, I have realized that cooking has become that anchor for me. It’s difficult to go out to a restaurant outside of UB and find food that really satisfies my cravings. Therefore, it’s up to me to cook the food I want. What does this mean for me? Foods that use spices, most commonly, Hungarian spices. There’s little that can make a person feel more at home than food.
Evenings are now spent watching Netflix, doing Zumba, and cooking when I’m bored. I never thought I would be experimenting with spices and various meals, especially in a foreign country with limited supplies. I’m lucky that I can at least find meat besides mutton. The chicken in Arvaikheer comes as chicken drumsticks, breaded strips, or plain chicken breast. Unfortunately for soum dwellers, only mutton and occasionally breaded drumsticks can be found in rural areas of Mongolia. Furthermore, they have fewer vegetables. While I can find bell peppers, tomatoes, cucumbers, zucchini, onions, squash, turnips, carrots, and occasionally rotten avocados, soum dwellers have a more challenging time finding vegetables. In some cases, people are happy they can even find peppers, let alone tomatoes, most of which are rotten. In any case, the spices, which perfect meals, are limited, so I’m grateful for the spices I brought from America or that have been sent to me. Among them are: Hungarian paprika, Old Bay, thyme, cinnamon, cinnamon sticks, vanilla bean, vanilla sugar (which can be bought in Mongolia), and Jamaican jerk. Here in Mongolia, I bought: basil, dried parsley, salt, pepper, and cumin. I’ve also made ample use of pickle juice for marinating chicken. Using these spices, it has been pretty easy to cook foods that remind me of home.
I only have a stove top with two heaters, so unfortunately, I can’t make foods that require an oven (although I am in the market for a crock pot). However, I have gotten more creative and even strayed during the school break from the three meals I typically make. Generally, I do a rotation between chicken (either with paprika and cheese or marinated in pickle juice and topped with salt, pepper, and paprika) with mashed potatoes and green beans, paprikás krumpli (potatoes with Hungarian paprika), and lecsó (peppers with egg cooked Hungarian style). I also started making palacsinta (Hugarian crepes). During the last school break, I was with one of my counterparts who pulled out a treasure from her fridge, a type of food I have yet to find in the States, the gem of my new diet: curds. Now, I mean smooth curds, like before cottage cheese becomes clumpy. In Hungary, there are sheep curds (juhtúró) that are used in various meals, from dinners and spreads on bread to dessert fillings. Here in Mongolia, people typically eat camel curds (the highest quality) and cow curds, while sheep, goat, and horse curds are available but not popular. My CP had a half kilo of camel curds, which I was lucky enough to have bestowed upon me. I had just made palacsinta with which túró as a filling goes perfectly. I made túró from half of the camel curds and used the other half to make körözött (Hungarian spread with paprika and onions). Boy was I happy that week. I’ve also made fruit mixes from frozen fruits: strawberries, blackberries, and lingonberries. I typically add brown sugar, lemon juice, and cinnamon to make a delicious fruity filling. Sometimes I add oatmeal to the mix and freeze it, siding it with whipped cream. The best dessert I have made so far is called madártej (which literally means “bird milk” and is similar to the French dessert called “Floating Islands”) and required about 3 hours of hand-whipping egg whites with two forks (early onset of carpal tunnel on the horizon). It turned out exactly like my father’s, which made me extremely proud. One time I even made buffalo chicken dip with ranch dressing found in Arvaikheer and cheddar cheese, hot sauce, and cream cheese from UB; it tasted about the same as buffalo chicken dip but wasn’t as much of a dip as it was chicken with some cheese added to it (probably because cheese is so expensive I didn’t want to use a lot and hot sauce isn’t as diluted as buffalo sauce is so I didn’t want to use too much). I also made chicken soup for the first time (although I only had beef bouillon cubes). Most recently, I experimented with rizses hús (Hungarian style meat with rice and eaten with pickles) and maple syrup glazed carrots for Thanksgiving (by request, not a personal favorite). Rather than using beef, I used chicken, and it turned out to be delicious, especially with pickles as a side-dish.
First attempt at chicken with cheese, mashed potatoes, and green beens
Maple glazed carrots for Thanksgiving
Túró (white filling in the back), palacsinta, blackberry and lingonberry mix, and körözött (orange spread)
Chilled brown sugared lingonberries with oatmeal topped with whipped cream
Toasted bread topped with körözött sided with tomatoes
Palacsinta and batter
About to flip the palacsinta
First attempt at pick-juice marinated chicken with garlic mashed potatoes and green beans
One portion of lecsó
Hungarian chicken soup (made with beef bouillon cubes)
Pickle-marinated paprika chicken with mashed potatoes and green beans
Buffalo chicken dip
Of all my cooking attempts, only two have gone poorly. One time I added oil to the palacsinta batter per the recipe online (this was before I was sent my Dad’s famous recipe)… This resulted in the crepes breaking apart and sticking to the pan no matter how burnt they got. They still tasted okay at least. However, my worst cooking experience was the first time I made pasta. I had read online that one can never add too much salt to pasta, so I proceeded to add too much salt. On top of salty pasta, I was attempting to use beef, which seems to have a strange aftertaste here in Mongolia. I was hoping that cooking the beef in the pasta sauce I was making from tomato paste would mask the taste. This was not the case. I powered through and ate all the pasta, but it was quite the feat. My mother researched online and found that soaking the beef and mutton in lemon juice can rid the meat of the aftertaste, so perhaps this will be included in my next experiment.
I am excited to continue to experiment with Hungarian meals and hopefully become adept enough at cooking them that I can move on to Mongolian meals like buuz and tsuivan. We’ll see whether this goal ever reaches fruition. Wish me luck!
P.S.Don’t worry about cooking if you’re considering coming to Mongolia with the Peace Corps… you’ll definitely learn to cook, and think of how much easier cooking will be when you’re back in the States. I know I do! I fully expect to be able to cook delicious feasts once I’m back home.
As I sat on the bus on my way to UB, the woman next to me casually lifted her shirt and began breastfeeding her 8-month-old daughter. Such is life in Mongolia where women are immensely strong and have endless responsibilities. While women in the United States and in Mongolia appear to have similar goals and values, they seem to be cut from a different type of cloth. US women are generally more individualistic, deriving from a more individualistic culture, while Mongolian women seem extremely dedicated to family, and consequently, almost every role that falls under a woman’s umbrella, deriving from a more communal culture where familial responsibility is everything. From what I’ve seen so far, life in the US gives women more of an opportunity to explore their individual womanhood, while Mongolian women seem to have more cultural roles and gender norms to which to adhere.
Take for example, a woman’s role to serve food and drinks in social situations. The times that I have gotten together with Mongolians for an event, it is an unspoken rule that if there is cooking to be done, the women will cook while the men sit or play games (the only exception being boodog, the process of which is a man’s job since the goat’s body must be held while scorching rocks are placed in the body with meat and vegetables). Afterwards, the women serve the food; the men typically only serve alcohol. The interesting part is that the women appear happy to be serving the meals, as though it demonstrates their competency as a wife or mother. There is a saying I was told that if a woman makes good tsuivan, she will be a good wife. This seems to be engrained in Mongolian culture, that completing tasks traditionally viewed as a woman’s job demonstrates how great a woman is. This is not to say that traditional views of a woman’s role in a family are unseen in the United States, yet most American women I know would not immediately jump to start cooking or doing other expected tasks. While I would personally find it difficult to want to perform these tasks, it constantly amazes me how strong the Mongolian women are, not only completing their generally expected jobs such as cooking, cleaning, and taking care of the kids, but also working extremely diligently during the day. Furthermore, although it seems Mongolian women are happy to do these tasks, they could very well be frustrated at the amount of responsibilities they have, but have accepted their circumstances. I have occasionally heard phrases like “he is so lazy” thrown around about men who merely sit and watch, while the men who help receive side-compliments like “he is a good man”, so there’s definitely more than meets the eye when it comes to men and women and their acceptance of traditional gender norms in Mongolia.
Most of what I have said implied that American women do not want to do everything women are traditionally expected to do, while Mongolian women are fine doing traditionally expected tasks; however, there is clearly a generational shift in views that probably plays into the demographics I’ve met in both countries (mostly college women in America among whom the new feminist movement is strong and Mongolian women with typically at least three kids and a job). I know that in the US as well, women have difficulties dealing with taking care of the children while also balancing work. Each family’s dynamic is different, no matter if the family is in the United States or Mongolia. Yet views on a woman’s role in the household appear to be changing in Mongolia as well. I have met women typically around 30-years-old, give or take three years, who have two to four kids but don’t cook. They’ve specifically told me they don’t like cooking, they aren’t good at cooking, their husband cooks better, and their husband cooks every meal each day. These are the households about which people don’t hear. Even my host father cooked occasionally so my host mother could nap! During PST we were told by some of our Mongolian technical trainers that Mongolian women have to do everything, the men just sit around doing nothing. Afterwards, another trainer came over and told us that not every family is like that; things are changing. It seems this change is surrounding the younger generation (as cultural changes usually do) and families living in more developed areas (again, not surprising). In UB, I have seen women out on dates, women who, based on their age, might have already had two kids if they were living outside of UB. This seems to indicate a shift to focusing on individual work rather than working while also starting a family. However, it seems like the movement isn’t big enough yet to be driven by any particular group; it just happens in individual households.
The younger generation has also demonstrated new changes in femininity, mostly regarding appearance. Before coming to Mongolia, we were told that Mongolian women dress conservatively, as in shoulders should not be showing. Now with Peace Corps being a professional organization, this warning makes sense. Furthermore, as foreigners, PCVs are viewed differently, with community members making joking comments about how PCVs should meet a Mongolian and get married. As a result, even though views on clothing are becoming less conservative in Mongolia, we PCVs still typically adhere to the conservative views to be on the safe side. Yet I have seen many high school and college-aged girls wearing short shorts and crop tops or tight dresses, clothing styles I definitely was not expecting based on the advice we’d been given beforehand. However, this more relaxed style seems relegated only towards younger girls. One specific example demonstrating that the liberal approach to clothing has not spread across generations occurred when I was teaching a lesson. My cardigan had slipped, exposing the top of my shoulder from my dress. My counterpart reached over and pulled my cardigan back up. Now, Mongolians are known for dressing professionally, so perhaps this was just to make sure my attire didn’t look haphazard, but more than likely it was to cover my shoulder, as shoulders should not be showing in professional attire. The same occurrence might have happened in the US as well, since the professional attire of the older generations seems similar to that in the US (except for casual Fridays). What I’d be interested in seeing is how casual attire compares between the US and Mongolia. The casual attire of students could easily be seen during the summer, but all I’ve seen of late is solely professional clothing. Perhaps this summer I will get a glimpse into casual attire of older generations.
I will say that due to the communal culture of Mongolia, the women all look out for one another. Grandmothers will raise their grandchildren while the mothers work in UB. Female teachers are concerned about their female students in all respects but most especially regarding teenage pregnancies. Female community members and teachers alike have expressed their desire for the middle school and high school girls to learn about sexual reproductive health. The only difficulty is one that is similar to the most common conflicting opinion about sexual health education in the US: abstinence vs. contraception methods (i.e. safe sex). While Peace Corps, my fellow health volunteers, and I all agree that teaching contraception is key, the most common theme in Mongolia is that girls should only engage in sexual activities after high school, so they should not be taught contraception. This mostly stems from a misunderstanding that teaching contraception is the equivalent to promoting engaging in sexual activities at a young age. Rather, since teenagers are not constantly supervised, there is no sure-fire way of knowing what they do in their free time; thus, better to be safe than sorry. Hopefully, discussing sexual reproductive health will destigmatize the topic in Mongolia where giving “the talk” or explaining “the birds and the bees” is something most parents do not feel comfortable doing. That being said, if the women I have met so far are any indication of strength, the teenage girls for whom they are role models will turn out extremely well.
This post might have seemed slightly confused, switching from critically viewing female gender norms to expressing amazement at the strength of Mongolian women; this stems from my own confusion. It is difficult to come from a country in which young women are currently attempting to change gender norms to a country in which adhering to the norm typically demonstrates female competence. Yet excluding gender norms, there is no denying that Mongolian women have backbones made of cement and somehow seem to be able to accomplish everything and more while remaining calm and collected the entire time. There is much I can learn about composure, resilience, and compassion from the amazing women I have met so far.
I’ve lived in Mongolia for a little over four months at this point, and life is finally starting to take on a regular schedule. Throughout my time here, there are some consistent differences I have noticed between life in the United States vs life in Mongolia, so prepare yourself for the logistics of Mongolian life.
In the United States, with the exception of kindergarten, most school days run from 8 am until around 3 pm, give or take half an hour for both start and end times. However, schools in Mongolia run slightly more similarly to a college with students choosing their electives and coming in and out of the school based on their elective and core subject schedules. As a result, school typically starts around 8 am and lasts until 7 pm. Here in Arvaikheer we have 4 public schools and one vocational college. Vocational colleges are basically trade schools. The one in Arvaikheer used to be a university, but due to poor enrollment, it is now a vocational college. The students who attend are students who failed the mandatory 9th grade exam. As a result, they are given the opportunity to learn trades, rather than finishing high school (sort of like a GED rather than a high school diploma). Depending on the vocational college’s resources, students have various opportunities to practice their trades. For example, the students at Arvaikheer’s vocational college can practice cooking because there is a kitchen, but the students learning about welding and building do not have the resources to practice their trades.
Of the 4 public schools, three are actually public, while my school, is a strange hybrid. To attend my school, a Japanese-funded charter school focused on mathematics and languages (Mongolian, English, Russian, and Japanese), students must pass an entrance exam. Based on the students’ grade, they pay different amounts to attend, with elementary school costing 125,000 tugriks per year, middle school costing 135,000 per year, and 10th grade and up costing 145,000 tugriks per year. To put this in relative terms, as PCVs, we make about 360,000 tugriks a month. It almost seems as though the payment is kept low enough as to not hinder enrollment. Teachers at my school are paid slightly more than teachers at the other three schools, but they must still must provide their own resources i.e. markers, paper for printing, flipchart paper, chalk from their income. The schedule is created by Training Managers (teachers are assigned 19-20 hours of teaching at a minimum per week) and takes about 1 month to finally settle, with up to 3 changes occurring throughout that month. My school has 8 sessions in the morning and 8 in the evening where each session is 40 minutes (a time limit set by the government), with the last session of the morning and the first session of the evening overlapping for 25 minutes. The 10th-12th graders only have class in the mornings, while all other grades have morning and afternoon sessions, including the elementary school. Every day, all students must participate in an exercise break that occurs during a 5-minute break between 2 class sessions. In general, there are no transition periods between classes though as students stay in classrooms, while the teachers move around to different grades. As a result of the varying times different grades are taught, both teachers and students come and go as they please, based on their schedules and lunch time, rather than spending the entire school day in the building as done in the US. Teachers and students alike stop in at the canteen (lunchroom) throughout the day for either snacks or traditional Mongolian foods like khuushuur, buuz, and milk tea, as well as a daily featured soup (one time it was cabbage, french fries, and mutton soup).
When students reach 6th grade, they are assigned a homeroom teacher who follows that class all the way up until the class graduates. Homeroom classes are meant for life skills, but in essence end up occasionally acting as another core subject class depending on what topic the homeroom teacher teaches. In addition, only one of the schools here has students with disabilities. A couple years ago, one of the teachers and a PCV teamed up to fundraise for a disabilities classroom that has a kitchen and various other resources, so the disabled students all attend the same school; however, most of the disabled students in Arvaikheer do not attend school. This is still an area that the community of Arvaikheer is looking to improve (i.e. increased enrollment) and in which to provide adequate support.
10th grade homeroom classroom
6th grade homeroom classroom “What is Health?” scenario discussions
Tungaa’s 6th grade homeroom classroom “What is Health?” scenario discussions
Schools often have lofty goals but lack the resources to meet them. For example, I am running a piano club with one of the music teachers at my school. Fun idea, right? Unfortunately, the school only has one upright piano, one keyboard, and one keyboard on the wall. Three more keyboards have been ordered from UB, so hopefully teaching lessons will be easier and more interactive when they arrive. However, students don’t have sheet music. The school has three binders of sheet music from which students may borrow one or two pieces with the teacher’s permission. I decided to ask my parents to send me some of my old books which I no longer need. My goal is to increase the school’s sheet music library, allow for better accessibility of music for the students, and have students play music more at their level. What I noticed after hearing the students play Fur Elise was that rather than looking at the sheet music to see which note to play when they got stuck, they had another student come up and tried to memorize the fingering. In addition, they were barely getting through pieces that were too difficult for them. Hopefully, with better technique and fingering, they will be able to play easier pieces, more at their level, but at a higher performance quality.
Furthermore, certain subjects are lacking. This last school year, health teachers got cut from the curriculum due to inadequate funding by the Mongolian government. The revamped Peace Corps Health program is attempting to fill this vacancy, as well as the lack of structure of the homeroom curriculum by introducing PCVs into homeroom classes to teach life skills, sexual reproductive health, alcohol and tobacco prevention, nutrition, and exercise.
I’ve got an easy life, living in an apartment in an aimag center, but that is not to say that apartment life is without difficulties. While ger-dwellers have a harder lifestyle and isolation typically, apartment-dwellers seem to have less control over their home. In the winter, electricity comes and goes, so I’ve been warned to always have food that doesn’t require cooking or re-heating to eat. Not to mention the electrical wiring is slightly shady (think: the outlet behind my fridge caught on fire so my landlord and I had to get fancy with our outlet to power-strip combinations). Sometimes apartments get extremely hot in the winter since most use old radiators that do not have temperature settings. However, when the power goes out, the apartments become frigid, and without a fire place, there is no way to stay warm besides layering clothes. The heating turned on during the last week of September and with it came a slew of problems. I have 5 heaters in my apartment, but only two would turn on. When I attempted to turn one of them on, it started spewing rusty water all over the wall and floor. The next day, I came home from school and another radiator had leaked over the entire floor. The maintenance worker from my school ended up buying new valves to replace the old rusted or stripped ones. My toilet also has a mind of its own… it doesn’t always flush and likes to run a lot (as in run water, not go for a 5-mile run), but I have recently figured out that by making sure the button comes back up, it stops running. To get hot water, some apartments wait until winter when the hot water turns on, while others, like mine, have a heater. Some heaters are larger and require 15 minutes to warm up all the water in the basin, but mine is small and continuously warms a small volume, which means that to have hot water, the water pressure must be really low. I’m not complaining though, the only amenity I’m missing in my apartment is an oven, but it’s extremely easy to get by without an oven.
My apartment building
Depending on how old the apartment building is, installing WiFi might be more difficult and cost more. Since my apartment is relatively new, there is a router at the top of the apartment to which my cable is connected that runs down the side of the building and into my apartment through a window where it connects to my modem. However, for buildings that do not have a router, WiFi is a lot more expensive; we’re talking an extra 150,000 tugriks for installation while my installation was complementary. Trash is placed in the stairwell and collected twice a week by the women who are paid to clean the floors and stairs, so the stairwell frequently smells like a trash dump (a wonderful present for my nose as soon as I step out of my apartment, the first apartment in the building). Peace Corps gives PCVs an allotted amount each month based on the general price of utilities in their area with the hope that throughout the 12 months, during which PCVs are always paid but don’t always require the utilities allowance for any payments (i.e. no heating during the summer months), the payment vs the cost will even out. I’m slightly skeptical of this, but I’ve been assured that turning in 6 months-worth of receipts of payment will either allow for reimbursement or an increased allowance. Still unsure what all that means, so we’ll see how it goes…
There are four major phone providers in Mongolia: Mobicom, Unitel, Skytel, and G-Mobile. Mobicom has the best coverage but is the most expensive, while Skytel and G-Mobile are the cheapest and offer incentives such as free Facebook (i.e. not using data when browsing Facebook). Unitel offers the best deal for ger data. There are wingles (little USB devices that create WiFi with a sim card), modems, and routers that are sold. Plans can be daily, weekly, or monthly plans depending on how much data you buy. With routers, the plans are either monthly or cheaper for a yearly contract that is still paid monthly. In addition, for texting and calling, you must buy “negj,” which are basically units. One text costs 19 units of negj with Mobicom. As PCVs, we are each given a Nokia phone with a Mobicom sim card paid for by Peace Corps and promised one replacement Nokia and sim card if anything happens to our current phone, but after that, we’re on our own. With Peace Corps’ family plan, there is free Mobi-Mobi calling. This is Peace Corps’ attempt at helping volunteers feel less isolated. My smartphone has a Skytel sim card for which I typically buy 10 GBs for 2 months for 30,000 tugriks. However, this will probably change with the addition of WiFi to my apartment. My apartment has a modem one of the teachers at my school gave me and a Mobicom yearly contract plan.
Mongolians and their phones are all over the place. Since I live in a larger city now, most people have smartphones. However, during PST, all adults and most children had old Nokias that barely had any buttons left and were taped to hold the phone together. The children who had smartphones usually had cracked old smartphones that only occasionally had data. Service goes in and out, but usually you can find 4G at any small town. During bus rides, if there are no towns nearby, both of my phones typically lose service, although the Mobicom phone lasts longer. However, for how large and sparsely populated Mongolia is, communication via phones is quite simple.
Winter is in transition currently in Arvaikheer. Last week, temperatures were in the 50s, windy, and with snow occasionally in the mornings that melted by 9 am. However, it is 15 degrees Fahrenheit right now with a high of 30 degrees at 4 pm… quite the drastic change. Other aimags are experiencing bountiful snowfall and blizzards already. As the heating has turned on, I have noticed a change in the air quality. In general, trash and waste (including what should be recycled) are burned in incinerators. There are two incinerators in the city: one at the north and one for medical waste next to the hospital at the east. Currently, grants are being written for the proposed move of the hospital incinerator to a new location at the south of the city as winds typically blow north to south in Arvaikheer. The addition of heating has caused all the heating waste release pipes to also exude black smoke. As you walk towards the market, you can smell and almost taste the trash and smog in the air. The air is visibly gray in comparison to August when we first arrived in Arvaikheer, and black clouds overlapping the city can be seen in all directions from any window of my apartment. Unfortunately, none of the incinerators in Arvaikheer have filters. This is apparently why Japanese and Korean volunteers have been banned from Arvaikheer since the smog poses a health risk. Peace Corps will provide us with filtered masks that will hopefully help. I’ve been warned that the ger districts on the outskirts of the city cannot be seen in the dead of winter due to the copious amounts of smoke in the air.
Incinerator release pipe with school gym to its left
Government building and main waste incinerator
Smoke from medical waste incinerator
Gray smoke clouds rise above local Children’s Center
School gym in shadow of heat waste smoke
Ulaanbaatar has similar pollution problems. The last time I was in UB, I spoke with a civilian driver who was taking me to the bus station. She said that based on the final number of a car’s license plate, that car may not be driven in downtown UB on certain days. For example, license plates ending in 4 cannot be in downtown on Tuesdays and Thursdays. Similar attempts at controlling pollution have been made in other cities in various countries, such as in Quito, Ecuador. I’m unsure how efficient the solution is, but it is good the government is attempting some sort of solution.
With a paved road between Arvaikheer and UB, there are ample options for transportation. Three times daily, at 8 am, 2 pm, and 6 pm, a bus leaves from Arvaikheer to UB and vice-versa at a cost of 20,000 tugriks. Generally, the bus only has one mandatory 30-minute stop about halfway through the trip, but sometimes there can be up to 5 stops depending on the driver and if any passengers need to stop at the side of the road to go to the bathroom, pick up goods to sell in UB from family or friends who are waiting for them with a car, or even to pick up new people or get dropped off. There are also many meekers (kind of like vans) and private drivers always offering to go to UB. The bus leaves on time and all 45 seats are always filled. Meekers and private drivers are slightly less reliable. Meekers may take 1 or 2 hours to fill up and only leave when they are at full capacity or past full (i.e. 12 passenger seats but 17 people including children). The travel time for buses and meekers is about the same (7.5 hours to UB from Arvaikheer), while cars are faster (around 5 hours) but more expensive, especially if you are the only passenger. To get to Kharkhroin (the old capital of Mongolia) from Arvaikheer costs 12,000 tugriks and is typically a trip done in a meeker. The meekers in most towns in Mongolia are found either at the market or the transportation station.
The only train in Mongolia goes along the North-South line in Central Mongolia near UB, so we don’t have the benefits of the train line in Arvaikheer, although we are located 10 kilometers from the geographic center of Mongolia. In general, all transportation is through UB, especially to fly sites, like Bayan-Ulgii out in the western mountain range of Mongolia. In UB, you can just stick your hand out and eventually a registered taxi, unofficial taxi, or just a civilian will pull over and offer a ride (about 800 tugriks per kilometer). In Arvaikheer, all taxi rides are 2,000 tugriks, no matter how long the trip around the city (thus, this is both a curse and a blessing depending on the distance travelled).
View from back of the charter bus to UB from Arvaikheer
Meeker’s 6 passenger seats filled with 6 adults and 5 children
One of the buses that does the 7.5 hour drive from Arvaikheer to UB
Most recently, my travel experience has been on the bus. Children usually just sit in their parent’s or grandparent’s lap. One of my trips on the bus, I sat at the very back; looking out across the seats, I could see children’s heads popping up, peering over the seats at random times, like that game, Whac-A-Mole. The windows of the bus were frosting at 3 pm, that’s how cold it was already (classic Mongolia). The streets of Mongolia are slightly terrifying. Lanes are fluid, especially in UB where a three-lane road may arbitrarily have 4 or 5 lanes. Cars go up in the right-turn lane but then cut across the intersection to turn left because they didn’t want to wait in line… Although Mongolia is a right-side of the road country, the cars have steering wheels on either side since all cars are imported from the surrounding countries, so I wonder how easy it is to see traffic with side mirrors in cars with right-sided steering wheels. Apparently, car accidents are frequent and so are breakdowns, but in my experience so far, transportation has been pretty reliable, and Mongolians are always willing to help find transportation. Once the travel ban for M28s is lifted (an attempt by Peace Corps at helping and promoting integration by not allowing new PCVs to leave their aimags), hopefully I will get a better grasp on transportation. For now, my only experience has been during PST, coming to Arvaikheer, and returning to UB for dental appointments.
My teeth have always been perfect, leave the one time I chipped my front tooth on a fork while eating salad (pathetic story, I know); however, my teeth decided that Mongolia would be the time to test the dental system. One of my front teeth had been hurting for about a week and a half on and off if I drank cold water or a cold breeze blew when it eventually developed a crack. I sent a picture in an email to Peace Corps Medical and was immediately called. Eventually, I talked to one of the contracted dentists who recommended I come to UB for a checkup. I left that day, and my appointment was the next morning. Turned out that I needed a root canal (classic Roberta, skipping cavities and going straight for the root canal).
I’m now going for my third dental visit this week where hopefully my tooth will be well enough to receive a permanent filling; if not, a new medicine will be injected, and I will have to go back again for another check-up and hopefully, the permanent filling then. To get to UB, I have used money from my Peace Corps allowance but have kept receipts which I have turned into the Financial Department to get reimbursed. I will also be reimbursed for up to 30,000 tugriks for meals each day, depending on how many meals I ate. I’m still waiting for the reimbursements to come in, but they should come soon. During my stays in UB, I have either stayed in the sick room at Peace Corps headquarters or at a hotel paid for by Peace Corps if the sick room is otherwise occupied. I’ve been happily surprised by the quality of care I have received for my tooth and am reassured in case anything else were to arise during my service.
Life in Mongolia has definitely treated me well so far. Parts of Mongolian life are easy to become accustomed to, yet cultural differences and culture shock are an everyday aspect of life. The above-mentioned topics are parts of life that are omnipresent and, in my opinion, require conscious thought to attempt to fully understand and personally come to terms with. As my time continues here, I will hopefully develop a more well-rounded view and can also include other topics, such as price comparisons between goods in Mongolia vs the United States. For now, ponder what I’ve shared and imagine how your life in Mongolia would be. Would you want to live in the Land of the Blue Sky?
I’ve found it difficult to write a blog post recently as things at school are starting to pick up. Even on days when I don’t have as much work, I still am at the school from 9 am until around 6 or 7 pm. This doesn’t leave much time for writing since typically after school I go grocery shopping, start cooking, attempt to exercise, try to finish lesson plans, or am invited to an event with the teachers. However, so much has happened since arriving at site and then meeting all the teachers that rather than leaving out occurrences, each exciting occasion deserves a short summary. So, here goes…
After unpacking the first night, I finally relaxed on my large bed, knowing full-well the coming week would be hectic. Valerie and I explored the “city” and found a coffee shop where we relaxed for a bit before going to meet our supervisors. We were shown the important stores at the market: vegetables, meet, random grocery stores, home utensil stores, and clothing stores. The rest of the week, we went to the market every day, slowly stocking up our apartments with important goods, such as two plates, one pot, and one pan (only the bare necessities for us volunteers)! We ended up going on two hikes. The first “hike” was really just walking up the white stairs on the first mountain that overlook the town with the two M27 TEFL volunteers, while the second actually included hiking up the mountains with Valerie’s supervisor and teacher and my two Mongolian neighbor girls. The mountains here are quite rocky with a high possibility of rolling an ankle, but the views are spectacular.
We still went to the market every day (I even ventured out alone, which is a rare occurrence considering Valerie and I live two floors apart), but we were buying fewer things. We found where the different types of cheese can be found, not that there’s a large selection, and we bought housing supplies that weren’t necessary but were desired, like my shower curtain. Another M28 Health volunteer from a soum in our aimag came into town for a wedding and stayed with us for three days. We were all introduced to a woman in the community who runs an English learning facility and is extremely well-connected. She showed us a new coffee shop, which has WiFi, brownies, and apple pie (it’s our new go-to coffee shop)!
Eventually, we became friends with the store owner, which came in useful when we found out there would be a horse race. Her sister and father were coming in from UB and ended up picking us up. We saw the Fastest Horse Monument and ran into two Belgians who were driving the “Mongol Rally”. This is a car trek that typically starts in England and ends up in the southern part of Russia past the Mongolian border. When our ride left, the guys offered to drive us back home. With the third volunteer and the two guys, we went to the little photo store where we enjoy having our pictures taken. Afterwards, we introduced them to the market where they were finally able to buy fresh vegetables after 7 weeks on the road. They cooked us dinner to thank us as we chatted about politics and life in various regions of the world. The next day, they left for UB.
This was the week leading up to the first day of school. In an effort to make use of my free time, I went on a solo hike to clear my mind. A storm appeared on the horizon, so I was worried about getting caught, but luckily my path led me on the outskirts of the storm cloud, which eventually headed north and missed our town entirely.
The next day, I dressed up in my deel and went to school. I was pre-informed by other volunteers that nothing is accomplished the first day of school as there is a large opening ceremony. The ceremony consisted of speeches from the director and officials in the town with dances, songs, and musical performances by students and teachers interspersed. No classes were held that day as the teachers drank airag, ate aaruul (dried curds), and had a teachers’ meeting. Throughout the day, I was told that I look like a Barbie doll, and my hair was constantly being commented on or touched. I was introduced at the teachers’ meeting by one of the English teachers and had to answer questions about my life in the US. Although the day didn’t last long (I was home by 1 pm), I was definitely tuckered out. Cultural immersion is tiring!
This was my first full week of school. The very first evening, I played volleyball with the teachers for 2 hours! Throughout the week, I also met all the English teachers, and we had a meeting with my supervisor (the school social worker), and the director. The meeting turned out to be very productive as my clubs were decided upon. I will be running 5 clubs (one with each counterpart): girls’ health and life skills, professionalism, big brothers/big sisters, hiking, and piano. The hiking club will include the gym teacher and my supervisor, piano club will include an English teacher and the music teacher, and the other three clubs will have the remaining three English teachers assigned to them.
Two days later, the piano club had auditions. I was taken to the music room, unsure of my purpose, and was told to pick the students. The music teacher then left since he apparently had class… I got through three students before someone forgot her piece. After that, none of the students remembered their pieces, Eventually the music teacher came back and chose the students based on their ability to play back a rhythm. We have 8 students who will participate, broken into two sessions of 4 students each. Although the process was confusing, it was nice to feel like my work was truly starting.
That weekend, we went out into the countryside for a day. We drove for half an hour on a paved road, and one hour on the dirt road. We passed through a herd of horses lying in the grass who only raised their heads as our car passed right next to them. The next herd we passed was slightly more spirited, and the little foals ran by, bucking in excitement due to the car and the crisp air. However, reaching the ger camp proved difficult; we got lost, which was quite amusing. Imagine driving around across the steppe, being able to see in all directions as the land is entirely flat except for the mountains surrounding the valley, and then weaving back and forth to see if maybe another road will be more fruitful. Luckily, we finally arrived. Right away we were ushered into a ger for airag and snacks, before being led to a second ger for milk tea and aaruul. I definitely had my fill of Mongolian food. For breakfast, the teachers made cow intestine soup. My supervisor went around telling each teacher individually and made an announcement that I was not allowed to eat the cow intestine soup. Apparently, my host parents had both informed her of my food poisoning from cow stomach soup, so I was now forbidden from eating it. This was okay by me, as my substitute meal was bread with salami, cucumbers, tomatoes, and some fruits.
As the day went on, we ate khorkhog and boodog (these were described in an earlier post with my host family), played volleyball, sang songs, and had a relay race. I was given the apple-eating station. Now, I can eat quickly if I’m eating chips, but I like to savor apples and other fruits. This lead to some difficulty as I decided to not swallow in an effort to eat more quickly (don’t judge me, I was under pressure!). Another teacher ended up finishing the apple for me, so I was definitely my team’s weakest link. Afterwards, we had a dance party, which mostly consisted of the younger students. However, luckily for me, I got to have the real dance party experience at the end of the night. We all piled into the cars, turned on the cars, and then all got back out as it was spontaneously decided that we should quickly have a 10-minute dance party (cough cough 45-minute cough cough). All the teachers danced in a circle for the modern music, and when it was time to waltz, the lights were turned back on, and people started pairing up. I danced with a female teacher I’d met that day, the music teacher, a history teacher, and the school director. It was a long day (I arrived back home after 11:30 pm) but a great bonding experience.
The next day, I went with Valerie and another volunteer to the countryside. We’d been invited to a picnic by the well-connected woman. She currently has an American staying with her, who also came on the trip, along with the woman’s youngest daughter and her husband. It took an hour to reach the camp on dirt roads, but we got to see trees finally! We had lunch by the river and relaxed before the other two PCVs and I decided to go on a hike. We crossed the river four times and saw a plethora of animals: goats, sheep, horses, cows, and yaks. In one weekend, I had seen more of the countryside than in my entire three months in Mongolia. This country truly is beautiful, and the people are wonderfully friendly!
Monday started off with my supervisor telling me with which classes I would be working. This meant that throughout the week I was going to these classes to observe how the teachers were running their life skills homerooms. Some teachers continued on with their class, only stopping to introduce me or ask how it went at the end, while others had me fully participate. I watched a 7th grade class on dreams 20 years from now and the steps that will be taken this year to help them move forward on this path. I sat there innocently assuming I would just watch, but the teacher came over, handed me a paper, and so I wrote my 20-year plan (apparently in 15 years my only goal is job advancement). I ended up having to share my goals in front of the class. The teacher and I went over my goals in a mix of English and Mongolian and hand signals before I shared since I finished the assignment much more quickly than the students. Then, I slowly shared in English so the students could try to understand, after which the teacher explained my goals in Mongolian. In each class I watched, the students were very excited to see me. The ways they demonstrated their excitement were all over the board. The 5th graders gasped in awe, 7th grade tried to ask questions right away, 8th grade made me introduce myself in English the first minute by saying “say it in English, we speak very well”, one 9th grade class stared at me throughout the class and then made me introduce myself in Mongolian at the end of the period, while the other 9th grade class crowded me, brought me a chair, sat me down, and promptly started throwing questions my way. Their excitement was a welcome change of pace and really helped me throw myself into work.
I also started with the piano club. The students showed up Tuesday morning, but the music teacher did not… I ended up teaching them fingering for scales and the D and G major scales. However, the session on Friday with two different students ended up with everyone besides me being a no-show. It was okay though because the students from the Tuesday session had seemed more interested and motivated during the auditions, so I knew I’d be okay (as long as they kept showing up to the club…).
I left Friday afternoon to go see Kharkhorin, the old capital of Mongolia. I met up with the two volunteers who live there, went to a concert in honor of one school’s 60th anniversary, and visited the monastery. This trip was my first solo attempt at traveling. I ended up taking a meeker there and back (12,000 MNT per one trip). On the bus, I chatted with a mother whose twins attend my school. The entire meeker-full of people kept saying how I was fluent in Mongolian (a far cry from the truth, but I’ve had enough practice with the usual questions), so the conversation was quite validating; I was able to communicate, and not just when buying vegetables!
So far, this week has included fewer classes, but a lot of independent lesson planning. Monday night, I went out to karaoke with the music teacher! The next morning, I had the piano club, and this time the music teacher did show up (YAY!). Only three students came, but they seem extremely interested, so hopefully they continue coming. I also met with one counterpart (CP) to discuss the Professionalism Club and create a weekly plan! Today, some schools across the country held a strike which consisted of teachers arriving at school but not teaching. As PCVs, we were informed that we should still go to school and work on lesson plans unless we were told by our supervisors not to show up, at which point we should work from home. However, my teachers did not participate. I have been told that there will be a protest in October or November in which they are planning to participate. For now, though, the teachers are working hard and preparing for Teachers’ Day. This is a day when the senior students teach classes in place of the teachers who have a sports competition.
Yesterday, the teachers had a teachers’ meeting during which they were informed of a survey I’d like them to take regarding teaching health classes and a survey they should give their students about their students’ knowledge. They were also split into groups for the sports competition. Apparently, I was assigned to a group as well; I have yet to find out which group it is. Tomorrow, we have a piano club session (who knows if students will come) and volleyball in the evening. I will also be teaching a lesson on dental health for parents of children participating in Special Olympics that will be held in my town this weekend! On Saturday, the Country Director is coming for lunch with all the PCVs in my aimag and watching Special Olympics. Afterwards, my main CP wants to show me a trade market and has invited me for dinner at her home! The integration is becoming more pronounced and a part of everyday life. I’m ready for a finalized schedule so I can start teaching classes. This will supposedly start in October (just 10 days away!)!
With an 8-hour trip looming ahead, I had ample time for a lot of people watching. Basically, the bus ride demonstrated the communal culture within Mongolia. At the beginning of the trip, the bus riders did not particularly talk. It seemed it was an “each person for himself” setting. It was like a guessing game, wondering what each person would bring on the bus. I saw: 4 dozen eggs, a toddler’s bike, and khuushuur to name a few. As the trip progressed, children began walking up and down the aisles, and adults were conversing. A 5-year-old boy in front of me began playing peek-a-boo with me, while a 2-year-old behind me came up on his bike and excitedly stared at me. Upon reaching the halfway point for a restroom/eating break, everyone dispersed. The 5-year-old boy’s grandmother left him in the care of my supervisor, whom she had just met on the bus 4 hours earlier. At the stop, I met two students who attended my school. One of them had graduated the year before and was also on my bus. The rest of the trip, I sat next to him and had long philosophical discussions about why Justin Bieber and Selena Gomez broke up (my insight: they were too young to have a relationship in the spotlight. Brilliant, isn’t it?). We listened to the Justin Bieber songs he had saved on his phone and only stopped when the music videos on the bus switched from traditional Mongolian music to a Rihanna song. Once the song was over though, we were back to the Biebster. The second half of the trip felt a bit longer than the first. Take a gander why…
Anyway, we eventually reached my aimag center where my supervisor’s sister was waiting to pick us up. We drove to their mother’s house; she had prepared tsuivan for me, as my supervisor had asked what my favorite Mongolian meal is: tsuivan. Then it was time to go to my apartment!
My apartment turned out to be very big. It’s on the first floor, about a two-minute walk from my school. My friend, Valerie (Valerie’s Blog), lives on the third floor. Her apartment is a very different set-up. Luckily, she has an oven, and I have a fridge, so we have everything we need. I am fortunate because my apartment has hot water, a microwave, a queen-sized bed, and a semi-automatic washing machine!
I slept extremely well after having arrived so late that night. My supervisor let me sleep in before taking me to the market. Since my school and Valerie’s are so close, our supervisors have taken us to do a lot of activities together. We checked out the market the first day and also went to local immigration and housing to register in the aimag center. So far, we have mainly bought cheese and supplies for our apartments, like cups, plates, and pots and pans. The apartments are relatively bare, but they are starting to feel cozier! For example, a drying rack and shower curtain are now present in my apartment! I’ve even been able to cook! This is especially impressive considering I had only cooked five times in my life before coming to Mongolia. My first meal here was over-salted pasta. I’d read online that you could never add too much salt when making pasta, so obviously I proceeded to add too much salt. However, my second meal, chicken, green beans, and mashed potatoes turned out extremely well! See for yourself… or as much as a picture can demonstrate deliciousness.
Valerie and I have hung out a lot. The first night we made pizza from scratch. It turned out alright…
Valerie made a great point in our group message with the other PCVs from our training site. She said that she thinks we are having a uniquely different experience being able to live so close to one another. The feeling of impending solidarity hasn’t hit us yet. Not only do we have each other, we also have two site-mates in the aimag center, one of whom was a Resource Volunteer for another training site this summer. We have gone on two hikes so far: one with our site-mates and one with the few Mongolians we know. These included Valerie’s supervisor and counterpart (my supervisor was busy painting the new house her family had built two days before) and two neighbor girls who like to explore the aimag center with me.
It’s surprising how quickly you can start to feel integrated in a new place. The two neighbor girls are eager to show me around. They have taken me to the amusement park twice. The first time they wanted to pay for me since I forgot money, which I didn’t allow, so we went back the next day. We rode the Dragon Twin ride together; however, they left me to ride the merry-go-round by myself as they watched from the sidelines… no worries, I enjoyed it though (always love horseback riding, no matter if the horse is real). We also went to the local garden and some nearby stores. During the walk to the garden with the two girls, I ran into my supervisor’s sister leaving the bank! Earlier that day, I had seen the 5-year-old boy from the bus and his grandmother at a дэлгүүр (delguur – small shop). It’s crazy how small the aimag center is starting to feel. Yesterday evening, one of the girls held an origami lesson for the two of us at my apartment, and I have already made friends with a sweet lady who sells vegetables at one of the stands at the market! Furthermore, when I mentioned that Peace Corps recommends apartments getting new locks as a safety measure, two school workers came and immediately switched the lock (it probably helps that my landlord used to be the school director). However, the next day, my key wasn’t working. I called one of the English teachers from my school to inform her, as well as talked to one of the neighbor girls. I went from being alone in the hallway to having 8 Mongolians show up: the neighbor girl, a random boy from the apartment building, the school worker, my supervisor, the English teacher, and the English teacher’s husband and two children. The lock was quickly fixed. My school and aimag center are already so welcoming. I can’t wait to see what the year brings! By the way… I’m now officially a Peace Corps Volunteer, forgot to mention that!
One week… that is how long I have been at my permanent site. I am already settling into a comfortable life with fruits, cheese, an amusement park, and even coffee shops (although I just get juice since coffee isn’t my thing)! But first, you need to know how I got here.
I left my training site Tuesday afternoon. After a teary goodbye (even Aав cried), we loaded onto the meeker to drive to Darkhan for Final Center Days and Swearing-In. The drive took about 2 hours.
When we arrived around 1:45 pm, we eagerly greeted everyone and waited for the other meeker with our bags to make it to the hotel. I was lucky enough to room with my same friend from Staging in San Francisco! After lugging every bag up to the hotel room with the help of some other Trainees, I checked the time and noted I had enough time to shower. This meant that I was about to have my first hot shower since the first week in Mongolia! The anticipation was killing me. I’d had warm tumpun baths and cold showers throughout the summer, so this shower would be a nice relief. The best part of the shower? Not only was my body finally relaxed, but my hair and back were the cleanest they’d been in two and a half months (you don’t realize how difficult it is to wash your back without a shower-head until you don’t have one). After the shower, I donned my usual business casual clothing (my new favorite clothing… by necessity) and walked over with other Trainees to the location where permanent site announcements would be held! The rest of my time in Mongolia was about to begin…
At 4:30 pm, site announcements began. Starting from the Eastern, Central, and Western regions of Mongolia, one aimag’s new residents were announced, respectively. My aimag was announced third (first Western aimag). I eagerly went up to the front of the room to receive my site packet and waited, wondering whether any other people would end up near me. As I heard my friend’s name being called to live in the same aimag center with me, my excitement levels rose! This was one of my two closest friends from my training site! To top it off, the third name called was also a close friend’s (she is placed about two hours from my aimag center). We went to the map of Mongolia and pinned our pictures to our locations. We then returned to our seats. As I waited to see where my friends would end up, I looked through my packet. I would be living in an apartment with amenities, an aimag center that occasionally sells peanut butter and whipped cream, an aimag that has a horse festival, and working at a school focused on language and mathematics!
Once the site announcements were finished, we were given free time to digest the information we’d been given on our lives for the next two years. Most people continued to scour their packets to pick out as many details as possible, but I was not one of them. I hadn’t expected to be so confused upon finding out my site. My friends remarked that I was really quiet, why wasn’t I talking? Was I okay? I wasn’t sure what to think and didn’t want to start forming ideas about my site without having spoken to anyone from my school or having seen my new home. I decided to go out to dinner with friends instead of pondering the possibilities.
At dinner, most people brought their packets and continued to discuss what they’d deciphered. Once again, I stayed quiet and contemplated life. Specifically, why did the restaurant insist on putting barbeque sauce on every meal (meat lover’s pizza should not have BBQ sauce…)?? That night, I went to bed in a state of confusion and anticipation for the coming days.
What followed were three days of training. The first day was separate from our supervisors and focused on paperwork and policies of Peace Corps Mongolia. The second day, we met our supervisors. The supervisors are people who work at the assigned schools (one supervisor per PCV) and guide and help the PCV. Some supervisors do not work as counterparts (CP) with the PCVs while others, like mine, also work as a CP. My supervisor is my school’s social worker. During one of the sessions, we were told to express our worries to one another using Peace Corps Staff translators. With the help of a Peace Corps Staff member, I learned that my supervisor is looking forward to working with me and would like to be friends but is worried about the language barrier. She would also like to gain fluency in English. Furthermore, we discussed my housing. I would be living in the same apartment building as my friend!
Each night in Darkhan, I went out for pizza and occasionally found milkshakes, in an effort to eat the closest food to American food that I could find before heading out west. I probably put on a couple of the pounds I lost during PST, but the food made it worth it. We also checked out the black market and bought backpacks with my friends so that we could fit the extra stuff we had acquired throughout PST.
After the three days of training, it was finally Saturday: Swearing-In Day! At 9 am, we all headed over to the theater dressed in our дээлs (deels). We had done a run through the day before, so everyone was prepared. We started outside with pictures of the entire cohort and were then sworn in by the United States Ambassador to Mongolia.
Afterwards, we filed into our seats. As the speeches began, I anxiously looked around, checking for my host parents. Eventually, I saw Ээж walk in with another Trainee’s host parents from my training site. Now, you need to know that I cry extremely easily… think, the type of person who cries during the trailer for War Horse and then watches the trailer after having seen the movie and bawls again and more intensely than during the saddest part of P.S. I Love You… Anyway, as I saw Ээж enter, I got tears in my eyes and continued to watch, hawk-eyed, for Аав. My first tears of the day were shed when he entered and looked around for Ээж (they ended up not finding one another and sitting on opposite sides of the audience).
Once the speeches were over, the presentation of certificates of completion of PST and officially becoming a Peace Corps Volunteer began. My name was called third by last name, and I nervously, excitedly, and on the verge of tears walked up the steps, shook the Ambassador’s and Peace Corps Mongolia’s Country Director’s hands. A quick picture was snapped, and I attempted to calmly walk down the stairs. As I went to return to my seat, I passed my friend’s host parents and Аав. They stood up as one, and one by one shook my hand. At this point I was crying lightly, but lucky for me, I was nowhere near dehydrated, so more tears were about to come. I continued on, and upon seeing my Resource Volunteer who would be returning to the US a week later, I began sobbing whole-heartedly. After a long hug, I returned to my seat. What followed were two performances from different training groups. One group performed a traditional Mongolian dance, and the second group mimicked the music video to a famous Mongolian pop song as our resident best singer in the cohort sang the lyrics in Mongolian (quite impressive really). After closing statements, Swearing-In was over. Quick pictures were snapped with my supervisor before I went to find my host parents.
The host families from my training site were all standing around one table, but my host parents, true to form, were already in line for food. Ээж started crying as she hugged me and led me over to Аав, who, in an effort to remain free of tears, told me to hop in line and get some food. Back at the table, we ate ravenously. My host parents met my supervisor, each of them having a long one-on-one chat with her. After Аав’s chat, he informed me I would have to buy plates and mugs, which were apparently non-existent in my apartment.
As the event drew to a close, we all exited for more pictures. All the newly sworn in Health Volunteers got a picture together, and my host parents asked for a mini photo shoot. Random friends dropped by for pictures too. Luckily, we all looked great that day, so the photos turned out beautifully. Then it was time to leave…
My host parents accompanied me to the bus. We hugged about 5 times, which consisted of Аав attempting not to cry, while Ээж and I bawled. After I got on the bus, I continued to cry and walked to the other side of the aisle to wave to my host parents. They eventually came to my side of the bus. We were making hearts with our hands and arms, Аав wiped tears off Ээж’s face, and then we all cried again. As the bus pulled out of the parking lot, I reflected on how close I had become with my host family.
Eventually we arrived back at the hotel where we changed and got on the bus to go to Ulaanbaatar (UB). Upon arriving in UB, we were given our fire extinguishers, fire alarms, and winter bags. Then we had free time to explore the city. While most PCVs went to MexiKhan, I was still craving pizza, so guess where I went? Pizza Hut!! The meal was definitely the right way to end the last week before permanent site.
The next morning, most of the PCVs left. My supervisor was coming at 12:30, so I had time. Unfortunately for me, this meant I had a lot of time to cry as I got to say goodbye to everyone. It would’ve been a lot easier had I left first… too bad. When my supervisor arrived at the hotel, we loaded all my luggage into a taxi and drove to the bus station where we had khuushuur for lunch. Then we packed onto the bus, ready for the next eight hours.
With the end of Pre-Service Training (PST) coming up, the last couple weeks have been hectic. My host parents left for a week to visit family in Khovsgol, so I stayed with my two host nephews and my host brother. Peace Corps had instructed my family to teach me how to make a fire and to chop wood so that I would be prepared for ger life. Luckily, my host brother took on the challenge. Aав had already taught me how to make a fire, but the prospect of attempting to chop wood was daunting. My host brother easily picked up the ax, swung with impeccable precision, and chopped the wood straight in half. He then handed me the ax with an expectant look. Having never chopped wood before, I struggled trying to figure out how to hold the ax. Eventually, my host brother showed me one method. I swung the ax… and the piece of wood promptly fell off the chopping block, my ax not having even made a dent. What followed was a series of different techniques for holding the ax, methods of garnering enough momentum to pierce the wood, and a chorus of giggles at each failed attempt from my host nephews. Eventually, I was able to get the ax stuck in the wood. This meant I was on the right track. After a couple more swings, I finally chopped the wood in half! My host brother then eagerly kept placing wood to be chopped since I was now in the swing of things. At the end, when it was clear I finally understood a technique that worked for me, all three of my onlookers shouted бaря хүргэe (congratulations!) and clapped loudly. It was quite the accomplishment.
Later that week, with my host parents still MIA, we all went to the river. The scenery was beautiful: a lush river with a ger on the bank surrounded by mountains all around. However, the only aspect that dampened the view, was the trash. All across the ground in various clumps were piles of trash. Considering this was a camp ground and the overall lack of responsibility by most Mongolians regarding trash on the ground, it was not very surprising, but was still quite disheartening.
Throughout my time here, I have been constantly saddened by the treatment of the environment. While there seems to be a great respect for nature and animals, there is a disconnect when it comes to trash. Children know not to throw candy wrappers on the floor in the house, yet as soon as they walk outside, they release the wrappers, which either fall sadly to the ground or are taken away by the wind, most likely ending up on the ground or in a river somewhere. Occasionally, entire trash bags or plastic bags from stores are left on the streets, only to be eaten by unsuspecting cows. The smell of burning plastic is a constant in the smaller baghs (towns surrounding aimag centers) as trash pickup is not frequent or even nonexistent. As I would walk from my home to the mountain, I would take a deep breath of fresh air, only to start coughing as I breathed in the burning plastic. The remains of these burned piles of trash can be seen in yards, on mountains, and along riverbanks. This is not to say that Mongolians do not care about the environment, but rather the means of making trash collection simple, which would increase the probability of healthy trash disposal, are not common in Mongolia. In fact, many of the Mongolians whom I have met, are eager to help clean up the environment. In preparation for Нaадaм (Naadam – the three-day summer festival involving archery, wrestling, and horse racing that I mentioned in an earlier post), the entire bagh was painted and rid of all trash. Volunteers went around to the river bank the weekend before and the park two days before the event began, in an effort to beautify the bagh. The other Trainees and I also went with a group of local children the day before the festival to clean up the river banks again. All the children were excited!
This group of children had been the group we taught for all our practice teachings. To thank them for attending these, we planned a three-day camp focused on life skills and games. The fourth day consisted of volunteering at the river, an activity chosen by the campers! Throughout the three days, we focused on values, decision-making, and volunteerism. There were also many creative activities during the camp. We had been told that in schools, Mongolian children are typically told what to do and not given the opportunity for critical thinking and creativity. Obviously, this is not always the case, but from our Mongolian trainers, this was common method of teaching in Mongolia. As a result, we Trainees decided to incorporate creative and critical thinking activities. We played the “Human Knot” game (pretty common in the US), made dough figures which were painted the next day, and taught the children what a relay race is by holding a water relay (my team won!)! The camp was a success and a great opportunity to get to know all the children on a deeper level than in class. By the end, we were so familiar with the kids that during Нaадaм when we saw many of the children at the stadium or the nightly concerts, we always stopped to talk!
Now onto Нaадaм. The entire summer, we had heard about Нaадaм as the climax of the summer. All the other training sites had already had their local Нaадaмs, but our site had moved Нaадaм later to have it coincide with the soum’s 80th year anniversary of foundation. In preparation, we all bought дээлs (deels – traditional Mongolian outfits) to wear. My host father unfortunately was not a huge fan of Нaадaм, so my family did not attend. Luckily, they had invited their PCV from last year to visit. I was able to go with him to Нaадaм and saw many of the Trainees from the other training sites in our region, as this was a huge event. We watched the wrestling, the end of the horse racing, and the beginning of the archery competition; some Trainees even tried нум cум (noum soum – bow and arrow). The main attraction though for the Americans, was the appearance of new delicious foods: Mongolia’s version of hamburgers, real ice cream, iced fruit drinks, etc. We also walked around to various stalls. This is where I bought my cool new hat for about half the price it typically is in the soum. Overall, Нaадaм was a great cultural experience with new American friends from the summer!
After the excitement of Нaадaм was over, it was basically a straight-shoot to the end of PST. There were some ups and downs. A couple downs: I tried to get my hair cut in layers (layers are an entirely foreign concept in Mongolia) so my hair looks like it has two different lengths, my host nephews left, and I got sick for the first time (this included diarrhea, vomiting, and fainting). Luckily, I survived both ordeals. A couple ups: completion of the Language Proficiency Interview (LPI – a conversation testing at what language level we are in which TEFL Trainees are expected to reach Novice High and Health Trainees are expected to reach Intermediate Low, which I met woot woot!), making a shagal (traditional Mongolian ankle bones game… I thought the pieces were bought and didn’t realize that each family makes their own by breaking of parts of the sheep or goat’s leg bone and eventually flicking off the ankle bone; my host parents were extremely proud of me for completing this process), and Host Family Appreciation Day. We held a lunch for our families. The Trainees made tacos; there were some spices in the taco meat which we hardly tasted, but our family members, used to relatively simply spiced foods, thought the meat was almost too hot and spicy. Some other Trainees’ parents could not eat the meat as a result, but my parents were strong and braved the spices!
Last night, my host parents and I went to a new mountain and had a photo shoot as our last special evening. We watched the sunset and then played pool at my host father’s work.
This morning, the other Trainees at my site and I woke up to watch the sun rise. Of course, Ask came with us for one last hurrah! The sunrise was beautiful; although we should have listened to one of the host fathers about from which mountain to watch the sunrise, but the experience was a nice way to end PST.
I’ve just finished packing all my belongings extremely heinously into my various suitcases. I’m sure my clothes will be wrinkled when I get to Final Center Day with all the other Trainees and Peace Corps Staff. Tomorrow we leave our training site to go to a larger city where we will find out our permanent sites, and two days later we will meet our supervisors for the first time! The start of actual service is about to begin!
In the time that I’ve been at my training site, I have seen almost half a dozen houses built. I am constantly impressed how, within a week, a new house will appear on a plot of land. Fences also got built at surprising speeds. A хашаа (khashaa = literally means fence but is used to describe the plot of land on which a family builds a home) down the road from mine went from being entirely open without fences for a month, to a fence encompassing half the хашаа in two days. The fences and houses, from my minimal construction experience, appear to be well-built, especially in comparison to the older homes. In addition, the bigger хашааs typically have farm animals. One хашаа across the street from mine has cows, goats, and sheep. The goats and sheep are typically herded in at night, while the cows wander home on their own. This occasionally causes problems as our gate is frequently left open during the day, allowing wandering cows to explore our luscious grass. Unfortunately, this has been an especially dry summer for Mongolia, so our grass is not actually luscious. Furthermore, being on the side of a mountain means that there isn’t an abundance of water, so the tiny garden my ээж (host mother) maintains is quite a rarity. When the cows wander into our хашаа, they are greedy and like to eat our green onions in the garden (this saddens me greatly as onions are one of the only forms of flavor in Mongolian meals). My аав (host father) usually makes me chase the cows out.
Luckily, I have Ask (our dog) to help me. I yell “хууч” (hooch) while Ask nips at their ankles and barks. Eventually the cows leave, although not without attempting to catch Ask with their horns. It’s slightly terrifying to watch as I keep expecting Ask to be impaled. I am also continuously amazed by how quickly Ask can turn from acting like a puppy and playing to protecting the хашаа. The dogs here are definitely treated differently than in the US. Most dogs run free and likely don’t have owners. The dogs with хашааs are identified by some type of collar typically made from cloth. The families with dogs, typically don’t give them water. The other PCTs and I went on a hike, and Ask accompanied us. We ended up making him a bowl out of a can we found and pouring our own water into it. He drank about 1 liter.
Ask staring at a water bottle longingly
Ask drinking from a smashed can
Many children are afraid of dogs. Luckily, the children in my neighborhood know Ask is nice and don’t chase him away. Sometimes though, they do throw rocks at him, even my host nephews. However, no one pets him. The only humans besides myself I’ve seen petting dogs are the other American PCTs at my site. My аав doesn’t even pet Ask and tells me not to pet him either. Now, he likes to explain this by miming what he calls “mosquitoes” jumping off of Ask and onto me. In other words, Ask has fleas. I try not to pet him for too long and not in areas that I’ve seen him nibbling. Sometimes I can even see the fleas crawling across his fur. One evening, my Aав told me that Ask has “mosquitoes” which makes him sad, but that it costs money to maintain a flea-free dog, so unfortunately, Ask remains flea-ridden. While this was sad to hear, it was relieving to know that ridding the family dog of fleas, in a country with a culture that doesn’t treat dogs as pets and doesn’t care for dogs as diligently as most people do in the US, was on my аав’s mind.
My host father playing with Ask
Ask meeting a puppy by the river
Young dog next to his khashaa after a hike
Our PCV trainer with Ask
PCT Valerie with the puppy we found at the river
One of the neighborhood children with Ask in the evening
Besides trying to come to terms with the treatment of dogs in Mongolia, I have experienced other slight difficulties. On a walk to school one afternoon after lunch, a car pulled up next to me and a man I’d never seen offered to give me a ride. He kept motioning for me to get in the car and followed me for about half of my walk to school. I said “үгүй” (no), and he eventually left. Another time there were two men walking in the middle of the street. One was visibly drunk. I tried to pass them on the side quickly. The drunk man turned to say hi to me and wanted to talk, but I kept walking. I then heard him yell and spit at me. Luckily, due to my quick speed walking, I was out of spitting range and continued on my merry way. I also had my first difficulty with regards to my body. On the train back from camp, I got a fever. The fever stayed for a day and a half, and finally broke Sunday morning. The hard part was deciding how much physical activity to do. I ended up still fetching water and playing cards with my host nephews, but I left laundry until Sunday afternoon. One final slight difficulty arose last weekend when I was washing my clothes. After washing my socks, which my ээж promptly made me redo as she considered them gray instead of white, I realized my fingers were hurting as I continued with my business casual clothes. I looked down and saw my fingers were completely rubbed raw. It’s been a week since then, and the scabs are slowly coming off. My аав got a kick out of my scabs and then told me to scrub my clothes on my palm by my thumb where the skin is thicker. At our family gathering, he then proceeded to show the entire family, who all laughed at me accordingly. Who knew washing clothes by hand was such a difficult life skill?
This week was the start of both the provincial and national Наадам (Naadam). Наадам is a holiday involving three sports and one food: wrestling, horse racing, archery, and хуушуур (khuushuur), respectively. I’ll include more on Наадам when our soum Наадам roles around in two weeks. Most of my family didn’t go to the local Наадам stadium; only my youngest host brother and my host nephews went. However, almost all of my host siblings came up with their entire family and in-laws. It was interesting being entirely surrounded by Mongolian culture and experiencing some traditions I hadn’t even known existed. For example, I came home one day to a goat head hanging on a tree branch and the goat’s fur just chilling nearby. A couple hours later, my second oldest host brother (whose 31st birthday was the same day) called my youngest host brother over to help him. They lifted up the goats fur, which turned out to actually be the goats body, without any organs left inside. It kind of looked like a goat-shaped, goat fur purse… From the fire, my host father brought over some hot stones. Using tongs, he placed the stones into the goat’s body through the neck. Eventually, potatoes, carrots, ribs, and other goat meat was added back into the goat’s body to be cooked. My second oldest host brother then used a torch to burn/cook the body from the outside as well. When the meal was completed, we all gathered around, and the semi-goat look-a-like was chopped up and eaten. As my second youngest host brother said “this is real Mongolian BBQ”. By the end, this was all that remained…
What remained of the khorkhog
Hanging on a nearby tree branch was the head of the goat we ate
My host brother and host uncle at Naadam preparing the boodog
I was later told by a fellow PCT and by my language teacher that this is a traditional form of cooking called боодог (boodog). However, it’s been clarified that it is actually хорхог (khorkhog). Apparently the difference is whether the goat’s head is still on its body… since the head was cut off, it’s хорхог. I tried some of the skin, but left the fatty parts for the rest of the family. It was quite a communal meal, with people taking bites of a potato and a rib, and then returning those pieces to the bowl and cutting board. Afterwards, with my host father and host mother, we went for a short ride around the soum in the car and sang “Barbie Girl” together. Living the high life!
Since I got a sim card and data, I’ve been able to keep up my Snapchat streaks (woohoo!). It’s been a new realization finding out how quickly you actually go through data without Wi-Fi consistently present in your daily life. It’s entirely possible to go through 2 GB in 2 days using only Snapchat and Instagram. I haven’t found Wi-Fi anywhere here, so I keep my phone on airplane mode. The problem arises when my new host nephews decide they want data and try to get me to turn my phone off airplane mode. The two boys spend hours playing random games. The most amusing so far has been a version of Flappy Bird where you have to sing loudly or quietly to move the bird up or down respectively. Most weekends when I wake up and step out of my room, the boys are immediately all over me and want to play cards. Sometimes during lunch breaks on days I have class, we have dance parties!
They’ve also been really helpful with learning new children’s games. Since they came from Ulaanbaatar (UB) to spend the summer with their grandparents, all the neighborhood kids have been constantly in and out of our house (my host nephews are minor celebrities in the soum). I’ve learned a couple games: cops and robbers, wolves and kangaroos, a Mongolian version of 4 square, and a game called “төмс” (potato) where the kids stand in a circle and whoever drops the ball has to go crouch in the middle of the circle and can be hit by the ball by someone from the circle. These games were particularly useful when we went to camp for three days as the campers played the same games.
All the Health Trainees woke up early on a Saturday to catch the 7 am train headed towards UB. We were on the train for 7 hours before arriving at a new province we’d never visited. At the camp, there were about 40 kids who had extremely busy camp schedules. Starting from morning exercise at 8 am, the kids went on hikes, practiced for the talent/fashion show, etc., and ended with dance lessons and a disco at 10 pm. We were lucky that we got to teach them practice lessons on nutrition and exercise. Fortunately, we’d already had some practice before at our training site.
About 20 kids from our soum participated in our first practice teaching. I knew 4 students in the class! My partner and I taught a lesson using Peace Corps’ pre-planned health lessons on nutrition. These lessons act as guidelines that can be adjusted to meet the needs of the class, so we basically redesigned the entire lesson and made new handouts as well. Since then, we have taught another lesson with new partners on alcohol and tobacco prevention. In the coming weeks, we will be teaching life skills lessons and planning a three-day camp for the soum kids! A couple busy weeks ahead!