Make sense of this

Alright, so this might be a bit convoluted, since I haven’t written anything at all in over a week, but I’ll try my best to catch you up on what I’ve been doing. Here goes.

I got a ride to the train station last week with plenty of time to buy my ticket by 6:30, like the people at the station said. As you might guess, the cashier wasn’t there at that time, though. The train was supposed to leave at 6:50. I think she got there at 6:45. I heard the train rumbling in around 6:55 and had to take off running to get on it. For some reason, it doesn’t stop at the station, but way down the tracks. I don’t understand the reason. It makes it hard to get on, since the first step is about as high as my thigh. I feel sorry for the little old ladies who ride the train. Carrying a big bag and a full backpack, I was huffing and puffing by the time I got on and started my search for a seat. The first compartment looked liked there was room enough for me, but it was mostly guys, so I kept going. As a rule, I try to stay away from groups of guys here. If you’ve ever heard about the machismo of Latino/Hispanic men, try meeting a Mongolian man. It’s about the same, if not worse. The next compartment was full of middle-aged ladies, with what looked like one seat available, so I asked to sit with them. After their okay, I got settled, and then was promptly invited to play a game of cards with them. I’ve only played the game with one other person before, so playing with five others totally changed the strategy. I didn’t get it at all. When they saw that I didn’t know what I was doing, they allowed me to hold my cards until it was my turn, then one of my two partners would take my cards, ask the other partner all the pertinent questions, then play appropriately. About one out of ten times I guessed the correct cards. The rest of the time, I was totally baffled by their decisions. We played for over an hour, then they all decided to lie down. The trip to Sainshand was seven hours, and they were going further than that, so they wanted to get some rest. There were three sets of three levels of bunks, and I was relegated to the highest, most uncomfortable one. A few hours later, another guy got on and was on the top bunk across from me. We talked for a while, then I took an almost-nap for the last 30 minutes of the ride. As promised, James stayed awake to greet me when I got there. We stayed awake for a few hours, drinking and talking, trying to be quiet for the girls. They had been asleep for hours. He’d told me he’d had a hard time lying in the dark, keeping his word to stay awake for me.

For the next two days, we walked around town, pretty much doing or own thing. Being that Sainshand is right in the middle of the Gobi desert, it’s very sandy. If you remember from my days of training, I really abhor the sand. It just gets everywhere, and along with the wind, it doesn’t take long to get dirty. And both of the PCVs that live there live in gers, so taking a shower was out of the question. Since I had on several layers of clothes, I satisfied myself with just washing my hands, face, and hair. That went a long way. By the time I got back home, though, all my clothes were filthy.

We met up with the girls often – girls are always fun company – and did things with them, but we mostly did our own thing since we were basically the only two guys there not playing basketball. The whole reason for everyone being there was that one of the PCVs that lives there had put together a big basketball tournament and there was an American team of PCVs involved. All the players stayed together in a hotel, and we left them alone for the most part, so they could sufficiently psych themselves up. They seemed to have done a pretty good job of it. Their first game was a shortened pig-tail bracket game that started around 11:45 pm, Friday night, to get rid of the lesser qualified teams, and they won by a resounding 20 points. There were seven American spectators in a gym packed full of Mongolians, but we made the most noise of all. All the Mongolians would cheer when “their” team scored, but we kept a constant raucous going that seemed to frustrate the other players. I really think we got in their heads a few times. The rest of the games pretty much went the same way: we beat the other teams by no less than 20 points. That is, until the final. The other team just seemed to be on top of their game. In the end, we lost by three points. It was an awesome game, though, and no one was upset about the outcome, even though the referees made questionable calls on the part of both teams.

While there, we had the opportunity to stay in the same small, one room apartment with the girls, but we decided not to. That was a hard decision. The girls were pretty, and what guy doesn’t want to wake up to pretty girls running around in their panties, getting ready in the morning. But, ultimately, James and I decided that it would be better for us if we stayed elsewhere. We didn’t need to temptation, or the headache of dealing with women who just had to have it their way. Also, there was a ger that wasn’t being used that I wanted to stay in. Have I told you that I’m contemplating moving into a ger next year? Before I came to Mongolia, I had this idyllic setting in my head of living in a ger on the Mongolian steppe. After getting here and realising just how hard of a life that would be, I chickened out. I mean, who wants to walk however far to fetch their own water, or go outside in negative temperatures to squat and use the bathroom? Those were the two biggest things that scared me away when I was asked my preference. But after being in my apartment this winter, and being cold most of the time for no fault of my own, I think I may have changed my mind. I’m still trying to figure it out. At least, if I’m in a ger, and I get cold, it’s my own fault. So, James and I stayed in the ger. We used paper and wood kindling to get the fire started, then used pieces of coal to keep the fire at a hotter temperature for longer. Ha, the only time we had a hard time starting the fire was the night we had been drinking and James was struggling to get things working right. I curled up in my sleeping bag and passed out while he passed out on the stool in front of the fire. Good stuff. The girls all live in gers and kept asking me what I thought of it. I told them my only complaints were the ones I had when I first made my decision to live in an apartment.

Oh, and there is something else that I absolutely must tell you. It’s gross, but hilarious. Ever since coming here, I’ve heard people joke about the poop-sicles in the outhouses. I thought it was a joke and just giggled any time it was mentioned. Well, I’ve found out that it’s no joke. When I walked into the outhouse, there was literally a six foot stalagmite of frozen poop, rising from the depths. OMG! I couldn’t help but take a picture. So, that will be one that you will at first think, “What the heck is that?” Then you will remember this story and laugh as you retch. Quite humorous.

While there, I got a big ol’ hankering for boats. As I’ve said numerous times, I just can’t get enough of those things. We’d been to two nice, overly priced restaurants, but they both had the usual offerings of things I could make much better on my own. I wanted some plain ol’ boats, so James and I sat off, wondering around town looking for a guanz (diner) that might have them. For some reason, they aren’t as easy to find as you might think, since they are one of Mongolia’s most traditional foods. We went to four or five places, then decided to check out a really nice place, knowing that the price would be more than we wanted to pay but decided that at that point, it was worth it. They pointed us back across the street to the place we’d just come from. When we’d just left that place, the lights weren’t even on. On the way back, we saw that they were. We knocked, and when the lady answered and told us she didn’t have any boats, we began to walk away. We didn’t make it 10 steps before she called us back and told us that if we’d wait 15 minutes, she’d make some for us. James was a bit impatient, but I told him we were going to have to wait no matter where we went; and what else did we have to do. We decided to wait and James pulled out the big bottle of vodka he had in his bag. He and one of the girls had played some gambling game and that was one of the things he’d won. The lady was so nice that we drank the whole bottle with her as I ate all the boats I’d ordered, then ordered ten more to go. We went back the next day for more, sans alcohol, and got some to go, again. They were really good the next day.

The last game of the tournament ended with only two hours before everyone’s train was to leave. There was a big celebration at a nearby restaurant that everyone got to as soon as we got packed and ready. As soon as we walked in, we were sat down, given food, and shots upon shots of vodka and beer. Everyone sang songs, gave toasts, and awarded medals. It was a good time and augured a nice train ride back for us. The augury was partially right. About 15 of us got on the train and basically took over an entire section. We’d all had plenty to drink, so we were quite rowdy, mingling in with the already present Mongolians. It wasn’t long before the swaying of the train made us drowsy. I just laid my head down where I was sitting, a couple of people laid down on the benches together, and a few daringly crawled to the upper bunks. Those upper bunks are a bad place to be sober, let alone drunk, with all the jarring, jerking, and sudden stops. James actually fell off and bruised his ribs and woke up in the floor wondering what in the world had just happened. I woke up at one point to ask where we were and was told we’d passed my stop. I just laid my head back down, thinking that I’d really wanted to go to UB anyway, and didn’t worry about it. When I got there, someone told me that they’d mistakenly told me we’d passed my stop, even though we hadn’t. Oh well.

That gave me two extra days away from my site to calm down and get away from everything. The first day was basically spent in bed, recovering. Drunken sleep, in a sitting position, on a rocky train doesn’t make for good rest; especially when you haven’t slept that much the previous two or three days. I woke up long enough to have two big meals and chug a bunch of water before going back to bed. The next day, I woke up and wondered around the city, taking care of a few errands, then got my stuff ready to find a meeker to take me home. When I started making the usual calls to make sure the drivers were still there, I was referred to one, and then another, and they were all gone. Aw, shucks: looks like I get to spend another day in the city. Haha. I didn’t mind one bit. I would’ve stayed longer if I could; but my boss was calling, wondering, “Where is our Trip?” It might’ve been endearing if all the previous bull crap that I’ve written about hadn’t happened, with her starting rumours and all. From my understanding, it’s yet to be resolved.

When I got back, the light in my living room went out. It’s one of those long neon lights, but like most everything else in Mongolia, it was all jerry-rigged beyond the way it was supposed to be. I had a replacement bulb, but it was way too long for the fixture. When I told my boss about it – and the electrical outlet in my kitchen that still hadn’t been fixed – she sent someone out the next day. Two guys came, muddy boots and all, and proceeded to change the light. After blowing the new one, totally, they just put in a plain bulb, hanging by wires that are duct taped together. It works, but there’s not as much light in there now. In the kitchen, they changed the electrical outlet for a nice, shiny new one, recessing it into the wall instead of having it poke out like the old one. It worked fine until they left. I spent the next 30 minutes cleaning up the mess they’d made in the living room and kitchen. They came back today, muddy boots and all, and put the old outlet back on, and told me that they would have to buy something in UB to make it work right. If I jiggle it just right, it works. Hopefully, none of the wires will go crazy and start a fire before I no longer live there.

Last Friday, the social workers got together for another set of life-skills lessons. When I did mine, I made sure they had a copy in Mongolian. They weren’t so kind to me. Again, instead of having 10th and 11th grade students, there were a bunch of 12 and 13 year olds there. Then, it wasn’t the least bit interactive, like it’s supposed to be. I just sat in the back, oblivious to what was going on, and watched with impatience.

This last weekend, I didn’t do anything at all but sleep. I don’t know if I’ve told you this before, but one of my ways of dealing with stress is to sleep. Sunday, the only reason I got out of the bed was to change laundry and cook food. Tsegii came over on Saturday, I think. We made dinner and talked about how upset the both of us were that my boss had started rumours about us. It sucks that none of my friends want to hang out because of that. Moogie was even going to cook for me the other day, but she wouldn’t do it at my place. My boss had told her boss to tell her not to hang out with me outside of working hours. The Peace Corps called me again to say that they would say something to her, but I’m not sure what good that will do.

Well, for not having written in over a week, I think I got most of the main points down. I’ll post this now. I just finished talking to my baby sister. If you pray, please do so for her. I love her dearly, and she’s going through some tough times. Please pray for her to make good decisions about what she has going on.

Write when you can.

P.S. I can't really get this thing to do what I want, but I want you to see a funny link that a couple of my friends have come up with.

http://sites.google.com/site/travishellstrom/peacecorps/RMLD

Cut and paste if you have to. It's just some silly texts they send back and forth about random things in Mongolia.