Whew! No injuries this week.

November 14, 2008

This evening, I went to the kindergarten to take a few pictures. As I said before, I didn’t know before, and as it turns out, I still don’t know what happened. Tsegii asked me to take some pictures as they had some kind of meeting with parents. The meeting lasted about an hour, and then I took pictures of all the things Tsegii sewed. She used to work at a sewing factory while she attended college, so she made some very cool stuff. I was very impressed. Eventually, I’ll post the pics so you can see them. Afterwards, she came to my place and cooked dinner and washed dishes. I’m not sure if I’ll ever not be surprised by that. I really do like to cook, and I don’t mind washing dishes, but it’s cool to have someone do those things for me. But, for any of you wondering, she only does that about once a week, if that often.

When she left, there really was a dance going on tonight. When I first walked in, everyone was just sitting around. After a minute or two, one guy got up and sang a song. I don’t know his name, but I see him in my building at work all the time. I was surprised to see him singing. After that, they turned the lights down, turned on the strobe lights and mirror ball, and turned up the music. All the way up. I don’t know if I’ve written about it before, but whenever Mongolians have music at a function, they turn it all the way up to where it’s almost distorted. It hurts my ears sometimes. Anyway, I sat through the first song and scoped out everything. As always, people were dancing in a big circle. For the second song, since I had had a bit of liquid courage, I got up and joined the circle. At the end of every song, people scrambled to find a seat so they wouldn’t be the last one on their feet, but they were usually right back up again since the next song started immediately. At one point, I looked around and saw that almost everyone in the place was dancing and the circle was spread out to the walls. Everyone seemed to be having a good time. Of course, all that was interspersed with waltzes and I sat and watched everyone, hoping that I wouldn’t get asked to dance. All the men joked with me and I kept telling them that I “can’t” and “I don’t know how.” Tonight, they played music that I couldn’t tell was any different than usual, but apparently it was. It set people off dancing quite differently than the normal waltz. It was very pretty. I sat and watched, wide-eyed. One of my co-workers, Oko, was up and dancing for every song, executing all the steps perfectly. I think I found my dance instructor. Toward the end, a lady named Tuul would smile and wave every time she danced passed me. Eventually, she either got the idea, or the courage, and pulled me to my feet and made me dance with her. I was so nervous and kept watching my feet the whole time. She kept smiling and telling me to look up. Luckily, we just did the simple one-two, one-two around the floor, leaving out all the twirling. That would’ve surely put both of us on our butts when I got tangled up. I think I only stepped on her feet about 4 times. Several times, she told me, “It’s my Happy Birthday!” It was kind of funny to hear her say it. I know some people who would say it like that on purpose, just for a laugh, but she really thought that was grammatically correct. I just smiled and told her happy birthday.

When that dance finished, I walked with a crowd of people to the Transportation Dept. The first thing they got out of the way was them reprimanding me for not being there to teach them English. I was sure to tell them that I’d been there several times and knocked on the door and no one answered. They said something about knocking for 30 minutes that I took them to mean that I should’ve come at 2:30, instead of the appointed 2 o’ clock. Now why would I come at any time other than the scheduled one? Oh well. They quickly forgot about that when the vodka and wine was pulled out. I think that they had already been celebrating Tuul’s happy birthday by the slur on some of their tongues. They did the usual thing where someone goes around giving a shot at a time and everyone says something before taking their shot. At one point, a couple of the guys got into what I think was a political argument before several of the ladies fussed at them and told them to drink more. Later, some other guys came in that I’ve never seen before and one of them ended up getting in a big ol’ argument with the guy sitting next to me. The newcomer was being held back by a couple of his buddies and was eventually escorted out. I don’t know what that argument was about, but it got heated quickly and they were up in arms about it. That kind of caught me off-guard; but it made me giggle when I figured out what was going on. Other than that, the only problem was when someone didn’t finish their shot. They also brought out some fruit stuff called “compote.” The kind they had was cherry. Basically, it was a jar of cherries in juice. They played some kind of game where they pulled out several on a spoon and the person had to take them all in their mouth. It wasn’t that hard. I had to take four in my mouth. When I did, everyone shouted like it was a big deal. It really wasn’t; even when I had to take two more before I spat the seeds out. We were all there late. I finally got home around 2:30. I think that’s the latest I’ve known of people partying around here.

November 15, 2008

This afternoon, I woke up from a nap to no power. Dang it! As I’m supposed to, I texted my boss and told her about it. Usually, she responds quickly and tells me if it’s just me or the whole town is going through the same thing. This time, she didn’t say anything. I figured she was busy, like always. A couple of hours later, I was talking to Moogie and told her. She told me that other places in town had power, so it must just be me. She came over and showed me where the circuit box is outside my door. That helps a lot. At least now, if it is my fault, I can fix it myself, without having to bother anyone else. I don’t know why it went out this time. There were only two things running in my whole apartment: my heater and the fridge.

November 16, 2008

Today, I went to my office with pen and pad to write my first letter to the class in the U.S. that I’ll be writing to. I wrote about things like the difference in temperatures between here and Austin, TX; why I joined the Peace Corps; why I agreed to come to Mongolia; what Mongolian housing is like; a typical day for me; and how to count in Mongolian. It turned out to be 10 pages. Whew! I write in my journal every night before I go to bed, but I haven’t written that much by hand since I was in school studying for a test. Needless to say, my fingers were very cramped by the time I finished. I’ve been told that the kids are very excited about the whole thing and have already sent me a letter. I hope they are interested in what I have to say and have inspired even more questions. I’m looking forward to getting their letter to me.

This evening, I went over to Moogie’s place for dinner. She made bansh tea. In case you don’t remember, bansh is meat dumplings that are boiled. In this case, they are boiled in milk tea. They are very good. I had two bowls and wanted more, but I was stuffed. I also ate a traditional Mongolian pastry called bove (which just so happens to be one of the slang words for “penis”), with some homemade raspberry jam. The jam was extra sugary, very thick, and really good. I could’ve eaten more of that, too, but I figured that my stomach couldn’t handle it. When we finished eating, we played a Mongolian card game that is quite confusing. I’ve played it a couple times before, but I just don’t get it. I also taught her how to play Rummy. After the first hand of showing her how to play, step by step, we played a real game. Just like my first game with Ariuka, Moogie was way ahead of me until the very last hand. We both passed the 500 point mark on the same hand, but I beat her 560 to 540. Man, that was close.

When I came home, I finally beat Warcraft III. I’ve been playing that game for a couple of months now. I’ve probably spent a total time that would add up to days trying to beat it. The last stage was really hard, taking me about six or seven tries, but I finally got it. As with most games like that, there were all kinds of neat little videos and clips as the credits rolled. Then, at the very ended, the makers taunted me with, “Now, come back when you beat the game on hard.” Psh, it was all I could do to beat it on normal. For now, I’ll settle for the Expansion Pack. I’m sure that’ll give me a few more months of entertainment.

November 17, 2008

Hole-ly Crap! I’m eating my lunch right now and this macaroni and cheese (with Ranch dressing) is freakin’ A awesome. Thanks mom. I forgot how much I like this stuff. There were two microwavable cups – why microwave, I don’t know, cause I sure don’t have one – and they both had busted inside. Because it is the microwavable kind, there was a white powder in there that I can only guess is some kind of thickening agent. It and the pasta were all in the box, but I was careful and got it all out. I decided to cook both at once, and I’m about to eat every bit of it. Yum!!! (Ed. Note: I found out later that mom got me the microwavable kind because they were in “cute” containers. Haha. Thanks mom.)

Also in the box was some Polysporin, Thera-Gesic (analgesic creme), Circus Peanuts (giving me an excuse to finish the half-bag I had left), Nilla Cakesters, extra-crunchy peanut butter, dried buttermilk, Pop-tarts, lotion, Lint-brush (very appreciated, since I don’t have a means of getting rid of lint after I wash my clothes), sassafras tea (I haven’t had it since I was a kiddo, and I’ve missed it), and the latest issue of Pi Kappa Alpha International Fraternity, Inc. magazine. I’m in it!!! (But they are forgiving of 3 years of my schooling by saying that I only went for seven years. Shh! Don’t tell!) They talked about how I had graduated with a double-degree in Psychology and Sociology and I had joined the Peace Corps, to be stationed in Mongolia. There might’ve been something else in the box, but I can’t think of it.

I also, finally, got a box from my BFFE Matt (a.k.a. Matthew, J. Matthew, James, Bubba, Dirt, Barbara, Little Barbara, Big Headed Bubba, Frubba, Chubbs, Chubbo, Chump, Charles, Rectangle Head, Recess Jenkins, The Window Licker on the Short Bus, Nickle, and at least five others I can’t think of) and the guys. That box had some extra-strength tape on it. Mongolians call tape “scotch.” When I was opening it in my co-workers office, and having a very, very hard time, they kept talking about the tough “American scotch.” Also in the box was beans, curry, cumin, allspice, garlic salt, pepper, extra-crunchy peanut butter, Sticky Fingers habanero hot barbecue sauce, Tylenol, Ziploc bags, Q-tips, toothpaste, Ranch dressing, two AA batteries, a bag from Target, and the first ever Pi Kappa Alpha – Theta Pi Chapter Newletter. I’m in it, too!!! It talked about my graduation, the Peace Corps, and me being the best man in Matt’s wedding back in May. I was very surprised to see an old, crazy picture of Matt and me when we were on the verge of having just a little bit too much fun one night. I can’t put into words how excited I was to get both of the packages. Shortly after getting them, I brought them home and put everything in its proper place. Oh, and I was really glad for the peanut butter. I was almost out of what I have, and they don’t sell the crunchy kind in Mongolia. If it’s not crunchy, I don’t care for it.

Afterwards, I met with the real art teacher. Before, when I met with the guy about the International Art Exchange, I didn’t know that he wasn’t the real art teacher, but the training manager. Of course, the art was supposed to be finished last week, but it wasn’t. Now, the real guy says it will be next week. We’ll see.

This morning, I made my way through the freezing wind to go to the Transportation Dept. to tell them that I needed to change their appointed time. For the first several minutes all I did was thaw out. The ladies there are very nice and sat me down and gave me a hot mug of tea. Back in the summer, it wasn’t so cool to be drinking hot everything, but now that it’s as cold as it is, I like it. We changed the time, and I showed up at 5 o’ clock for their first lesson; but not after a few shots. They sat me down in the director’s office and poured out three quick shots. Needless to say, I was feeling a little loose during their lesson. They didn’t have any light in the room, other than the little that came in from the hallway and the waning sunlight as the sun went down that came in the window. I hope they do something about that soon. It kind of slowed things down.

November 18, 2008

This morning, I was awakened at 6:40 to the croaking of my phone. (My ring tone is a bunch of frogs.) As I reached to answer it, I wondered who in the heck could be calling at that hour. It was my BFFE Matt! Yay! He’d finally bought a calling card and we talked and talked and talked for 40 minutes, non-stop, about anything we could think of, until we were cut off. I even got to talk to his wife, Sarah. What a treat. That totally made my day. Thanks, lil fella.

By the way, here’s something to think about and possibly write to your representative about. Matt – along with a few million other people – has AT&T cell phone service. To call internationally, it would cost him around $1.80 per minute, after he pays for the $10 or so per month fee. Why does it cost so much for a loyal customer, who is never late on their bills, and never has any problems, when any old Joe can walk into Wal-Mart and buy a $10 calling card that is from AT&T? That sounds a little backward, to me. What do you think?

November 19, 2008

I think the days that I go to the other part of town are becoming my favourite. One big reason is because they don’t try to usher me all over the place to teach English. Another reason is that they actually let me be in the midst of all the social work that they do. It usually takes me a little while to figure out what’s going on exactly, but they always answer my questions. Today, I rode over there with people from the bank and the Transportation Dept. I understand why the lady from the bank was there, but not the people from the TD. Today, elderly and handicapped people came. There is a government policy where Mongolia gives the elderly and handicapped 140,000tg, reading glasses, hearing aids, canes, and back braces. When I asked, I was told that the money is for buying firewood and paying for housing, and they get it once a year. It was kind of neat to witness all of it. Except for two or three men, it was all women. Some of them were in their late 70’s, and it seemed like all of them were half blind and could only barely hear out of one ear.

But, as nice as the benefactors were to everyone about everything, I was very surprised when they openly laughed at a mentally handicapped woman and called her “amusing.” I had seen the woman sitting over there but really didn’t pay a whole lot of attention to her, other than that she was staring at me. But Mongolians staring at me is nothing unusual. Once, another lady’s phone rang and the mentally handicapped woman said something while smiling big. The woman sitting next to me that was getting forms signed started laughing and pointing her out to others. When I asked what was funny, she simply said that the mentally handicapped woman was “funny, amusing.” And no one even thought twice about the comment; except for me, of course. If I didn’t know better, I’d have thought the mentally handicapped woman had done some kind of imitation, purposely trying to be funny, going by the way they laughed at her. I just looked at the woman who said she was funny.

Around lunch time, someone brought a big bucket of meat and another of potatoes and we had lunch. Everyone was crowded around, eating what they could. About the time we finished that, someone else came in with a big bag of meat, and we dug in. There were several big thermoses of tea brought, too, and I drank a lot, in an attempt to stay warm. All the tea made me need to pee, too. For some reason, they don’t have running water in their building, so I have to walk over to the school. Of course, I am freezing when I get back, making me drink more hot tea and starting the process all over again.

About the time we finished, the Peace Corps Country Director and one of the PC Medical Officers came to pick me up. They brought me to my place and spent about an hour and a half asking me questions. The PCMO asked questions about my health and things about my living situation that concern my health. Some of the questions were whether I had running water; where did I get my food, and was there plenty of vegetables; and was my fire extinguisher properly charged. She also took a look at my thumb and told me that I might be lucky and not have a scar. Not that I mind scars. I kind of like them, as long as they’re not on my face. I’m a little kid like that. The Country Director asked me about my site visit last week and made sure that everything was addressed properly, and asked if I thought anything could be improved upon. It was nice to talk with some fellow Americans. The people that came last week were Mongolians that work for Peace Corps, and they speak really good English; but they don’t speak English like Americans do, or talk about the same kinds of things. I don’t really know how to explain it, but I enjoyed the company.

Yesterday, one of the guys that works in my building brought me some abstracts from some scientific papers with lots of jargon about how to properly write a scientific study. He asked me if I would translate them for him and wanted them done by the end of the week. I read through one of them and understood it perfectly, but there was no way that I could translate one of them by the end of the week, let alone four. They were very short, and simple to the point of being convoluted. I told him that I couldn’t do it. Well, Moogie asked me to go and help her translate something today, and I wasn’t thinking about yesterday, so I told her I would help. I thought it would be something simple. It usually is. When I got there, she had those abstracts and couldn’t figure it out. I rolled my eyes as I sat down to help. I kept asking her what in the heck the guy wanted it translated for – since his job has nothing to do with what those abstracts were about – and she had no idea. It took over an hour to translate two paragraphs. Most of the words aren’t in my dictionary, since they are all technical jargon, so I had to basically have a freshman 101 class to explain all the concepts, and then dumb them down as much as possible so she could translate it to mean something kind of like what was originally intended. I found myself spending several minutes explaining one word at a time. Luckily for me (but not for her) she got sick and decided to stop for the day.

November 20, 2008

This week, I started rolling my sleeves down. Before, and for the last several years, I would almost always wear a long-sleeved, button-up shirt to work, and roll the sleeves up. First, it was to help me stay a little bit cooler, and second, it was to keep my sleeves out of my way whenever I might do something where they would be in the way. Until this week, I was only wearing the bottoms of my long underwear. I’ve started wearing the tops, now, and I have to roll the sleeves down to cover them. Not to mention that it’s a little bit warmer. It’s going to take some getting used to the feel and the look.

Here’s something else that I’ve noticed before but didn’t think much of until this last week. Mongolians leave doors wide open whenever they go out them. They open the door to my office and see it’s not where they thought: they leave the door open when they leave. They leave the store where they’d bought some groceries: they leave the door open. They leave any building: they leave the door wide freaking open. I mean, WTF? When I was a kiddo and left the door open, my grandmother would always yell at me, saying, “Were you raised in a barn?!” Truly, I don’t know what being raised in a barn has to do with not closing a door behind you, but it stuck and I make sure that I close a door behind me whenever I enter or leave somewhere. Here, I’ll be sitting in my office, standing in a store, sitting in the social workers’ office, or anywhere else, Mongolians will come in, leave, and leave the door wide open, and it’ll drain all the heat out before I realise why. And I’m the only one who makes a move to shut the door, too. Sheesh!! Good thing I don’t know Mongolian for “Were you raised in a barn?!”

Right before lunch time, the fire chief came into my office and asked me if I wanted to go to lunch with him. Well, it was earlier than I’m used to eating lunch, but sure. I didn’t have anything else going on. We went to the guanz (diner) in the Water Co. and he bought me a bowl of vegetable soup, boats, and prishkee. I ate every bit of it, too. Very good. When we left, he asked me if I wanted to go to his office and drink vodka with him. Um, not really, but okay. When we walked in, he sent his assistant to the store. The guy came back with a half-litre of vodka and a litre and a half of water. As soon as I saw the size of the bottle, I was regretting my decision. He poured two quick shots for both of us, then told me he didn’t have anything to do today and indicated that he was going to drink the rest of the bottle. I told him that I had a little bit of work to do, so he poured me one more shot and told me that I was finished. Whew! That was close. The full belly and the vodka helped me have a good nap when I came home on my break.

This evening, I went to help Moogie translate the other two abstracts. She remembered most of what I told her yesterday, so that helped a little bit. The biggest problem was getting her to translate what I said, instead of what was written. We literally went one sentence at a time, sometimes one phrase at a time, and made sure she understood what I was telling her. She seemed to be taking longer than I thought she should be. At first, I thought it was just the differences in grammar. That was only part of it. I noticed that she kept looking at the paper, trying to figure out what to write. When I saw her doing that, I told her to only translate what I said. She kept on, so I finally turned the paper over so she couldn’t see it. Things went a little bit quicker then. I told her to be sure and ask the guy why he wants those things translated when she gives them to him. I mean, those things were so abstract, that without a whole lot of schooling on all the concepts, they won’t mean anything to someone who reads them. I’m really curious what he’ll do with them.

November 21, 2008

Today has been a pretty good Friday. In the late morning, I went to the school to watch the singing, dancing, and drama competition that was going on all day. It started with the youngest grades and went up in order. I went back for a little bit after lunch, then went to what I used to think was the Transportation Dept. This whole time, that’s what I thought the place was. That’s what I was told it was. Today, I found out that it is really the Labour and Social Welfare Department. No wonder they were over there the other day giving out money. Oh well. Now I know. Anyway, there was only one lady there for today’s lesson, so we did something different. She knows a smattering of English words and phrases, so we practiced some conversation for the first 30 minutes. For the next 30 minutes, we were going to work on the lesson that I’d started on Monday, but since the chalkboard is in the same room as the ping-pong table, she challenged me to a game. Sure, I’d rather do that any day, instead of teaching English. I don’t know where she learned to keep score, but it ain’t the same place I learned. After the first 6 serves, the score was to her advantage, 4-2. Or so I thought. I asked her the score, just to make sure, and she said it was 4-2, me. Huh? How in the heck did that happen? So, I started paying attention and she was giving me a point whenever I hit the ball, even if it didn’t hit on her side of the table. She was giving herself a point whenever she hit the ball, even if it didn’t hit on my side. That was some messed up scoring, but I won, so I can’t complain too much. After that, I went back to the school to watch the final two grades do their performances. They were good and had some cool costumes.

Okay, it’s the end of my work day. Ha, not like I’ve really done much of what could really be called work. But it fits the Peace Corps definition, so I’m satisfied. I hope that you are good. Talk to you later. See ya.