I had great aspirations for this post, but rather than not doing it at all since I do not have time to accomplish it as planned,I will settle for this.
Tomorrow, Monday September 27 I leave for the countryside. I am going to fly to Murun, Huvsgul Aimag. Then, We drive to the homestay site in the Khatgal Soum. Then I will move in with my third homestay family.
On this homestay, I will also be teaching English like the last rural homestay. On Tuesday October 5, I will drive to Erdenet, currently the largest mining operation in Mongolia. I will be back in UB (coming home by train) on Saturday, October 9. This past week has been full with meeting all sorts of people and hearing lectures on various topics. I am definitely ready for the change of scenary and some fresh air!
The weather is colder here. Our first snow happened two nights ago.
Best to my sister who is moving to London tomorrow. And congrats to my grandmother who I have heard gave an amazing speech at the ribbon cutting for Eastern Blvd!
Sunday, September 26, 2010
Sunday, September 19, 2010
Internet and Pictures!
I often type my blog entries into a word document and just copy them onto the internet when I have internet, that's why the date and times of my posts might seem strange. So, even though I just posted the previous post, I already can confirm that yes, I have internet in my room, on my own computer.
I also now have pictures of the apartment!
Thanks to my mom who bought me this wonderful, tiny netbook. And my Aunt, Uncle, and Cousin who let me use their camera for this trip.
Already Feeling At Home ... again
I am about to go to sleep in my new home. Once again, I have lucked out on homestay families; they are better than I could have imagined. They might have something to do with my change of opinion about UB. I was dreading coming back to the city from the countryside, but I'm finding myself overwhelmed with excitement to actually learn what the city has to offer. When I lived here for orientation, our group of 8 rarely separated and we hardly explored at all. I think it was because I was more focused on not getting sick, getting enough sleep, not getting hit by traffic, and learning the language (basically surviving) rather than living.
After today - I'm ready to live in this city.
And that's a good thing since I am the farthest away from my school. I also was placed in a very remote rural homestay home, so when briefing us on our new families they joked, "Grace, since we know how much you love being isolated, you're living here." I couldn't get a straight answer on how long of a bus ride to school it will be - people just laughed when I asked if I would have any problems with traffic. Regardless, being this far away has introduced me to a new side of the city. Just driving around near my apartment, I can clearly see a difference between the types of places I have been so far, and the places where people who live here actually go.
My family consists of a mother (42), father (42), sister (18), brother (8) and four, relatively large rooms, plus a bathroom (the city has hot water again!). We live in Apartment #4 (a good omen for me), and as I entered the home, "Sanchin" (my brother) quickly pulled me through the door and showed me to his sister's room. He pointed to a fold out bed to indicate where I would be sleeping. Sanchin sleeps on his parents floor (normal for most children). Their room appears to also be someone's office. They have a flat-screen computer and internet. Apparently someone is coming tomorrow to add an internet connection to my room. The living room houses a large flat-screen and comfortable couches and chairs. The kitchen has a sink, stove, refrigerator, freezer, microwave and ... my favorite thing about my host father so far ... 9 large fish tanks.
It's been explained to me as his hobby, but I wonder if he doesn't actually sell the fish once they get big. When I told my host mother, "Bi Durtay" or 'I like' she said, "My husband...LOVES" (The sweetest broken Mongolian/English exchange so far). He has angel fish, along with others I have not yet identified. Right now there are about 20 baby angel fish in one tank and 6 or so larger ones in others. In addition to being a fish lover, my host father is an electrical engineer. My mother is a University Teacher and my sister is at University studying financial administration.
My sister and I cooked dinner, which was ready by the time her mother came home. After dinner, my host mom and I had a very long and very patient conversation. From it I understand the following: I have free internet, I have free laundry facilities, I am not to cook after dinner but I can eat any of the food already prepared, I will be driven to my brother's school in the morning where I will then catch the No. 27 bus to school, I have complete freedom but I am to call her if I will not be home by seven, and I am not to feel obligated to stay up with them if I am tired. When I pointed to the word for 'chores' in the dictionary, she laughed and looked proud of me. She said 'no'. Then we did the dishes together.
They hosted a student two years ago, which explains why she fought through the language barrier to tell me all of those things. After the conversation, she told me I spoke more Mongolian than the last student. She said, "Sara bad, Grace good." So, basically I'm feeling pretty good about myself right now, not to mention about to study Mongolian even more than I originally planned.
After today - I'm ready to live in this city.
And that's a good thing since I am the farthest away from my school. I also was placed in a very remote rural homestay home, so when briefing us on our new families they joked, "Grace, since we know how much you love being isolated, you're living here." I couldn't get a straight answer on how long of a bus ride to school it will be - people just laughed when I asked if I would have any problems with traffic. Regardless, being this far away has introduced me to a new side of the city. Just driving around near my apartment, I can clearly see a difference between the types of places I have been so far, and the places where people who live here actually go.
My family consists of a mother (42), father (42), sister (18), brother (8) and four, relatively large rooms, plus a bathroom (the city has hot water again!). We live in Apartment #4 (a good omen for me), and as I entered the home, "Sanchin" (my brother) quickly pulled me through the door and showed me to his sister's room. He pointed to a fold out bed to indicate where I would be sleeping. Sanchin sleeps on his parents floor (normal for most children). Their room appears to also be someone's office. They have a flat-screen computer and internet. Apparently someone is coming tomorrow to add an internet connection to my room. The living room houses a large flat-screen and comfortable couches and chairs. The kitchen has a sink, stove, refrigerator, freezer, microwave and ... my favorite thing about my host father so far ... 9 large fish tanks.
It's been explained to me as his hobby, but I wonder if he doesn't actually sell the fish once they get big. When I told my host mother, "Bi Durtay" or 'I like' she said, "My husband...LOVES" (The sweetest broken Mongolian/English exchange so far). He has angel fish, along with others I have not yet identified. Right now there are about 20 baby angel fish in one tank and 6 or so larger ones in others. In addition to being a fish lover, my host father is an electrical engineer. My mother is a University Teacher and my sister is at University studying financial administration.
My sister and I cooked dinner, which was ready by the time her mother came home. After dinner, my host mom and I had a very long and very patient conversation. From it I understand the following: I have free internet, I have free laundry facilities, I am not to cook after dinner but I can eat any of the food already prepared, I will be driven to my brother's school in the morning where I will then catch the No. 27 bus to school, I have complete freedom but I am to call her if I will not be home by seven, and I am not to feel obligated to stay up with them if I am tired. When I pointed to the word for 'chores' in the dictionary, she laughed and looked proud of me. She said 'no'. Then we did the dishes together.
They hosted a student two years ago, which explains why she fought through the language barrier to tell me all of those things. After the conversation, she told me I spoke more Mongolian than the last student. She said, "Sara bad, Grace good." So, basically I'm feeling pretty good about myself right now, not to mention about to study Mongolian even more than I originally planned.
Friday, September 17, 2010
The Food
I have finished my first Rural Homestay. For the past 12 days, I have been living in Delgerkhaan Soum, Hentii Aimag, which is a bumpy five hour drive away from Ulaanbaatar. Mongolia is divided into 21 Aimags, or proviences, which are then divided into Soums. Since there is so much I want to share about this experience, I thought it best to break it down into topical categories, rather than try to make a chronological account of the past two weeks.
The Food:
Fat is considered the best part of the animal. Even after achieving my personal goal of eating everything put infront of me (except for the intestines...more on that later), I still do not understand why this is. I figure it's the same reason I love snack foods in all of their saturated-fat glory. One thing is for sure - they use every part of the animal - and that's something anyone can respect (however few could imagine what lal that means you have to eat).
Mornings I am served either last nights left overs, reheated by pouring hot tea over it, making a soup, or my favorite - these little dry buscit-like dough balls, sprinkled with surgar and moistened with hot tea. When my host mom makes white tea (tea with about a coup of goat milk), it is a lot like eating cereal.
There is not much difference between lunch and dinner. My favorite meal involves noodles - hommade noodles rolled out of flower and water. For the past several days, we have had a plethera of cabbage, onions, and potatoes mixed into the noodles and the constant bits of meat (and fat). My family gets the veggies from relatives living in the soum who have a garden. I realize this meal is my favorite because it's fried dough and salty potatoes, but I do not appologize for this pleasure. Sometimes, as to not get in the way of my indulgence, I choose to swallow the fatty meat pieces whole, rather than attempt to chew them or worse, offend my family by not eating them at all.
This brings a question I have struggled with in regards to food: Is it worse to consume what disgusts me but is considered the best, thus depriving those who would actually enjoy it? Or to openly reject taht which is valued and prized as not suitable for this American?
I choose the latter as the greater evil - but I welcome any advise.
Although, no advise could prepare me for the meals that would follow the slaughter of a sheep. Not to mention the slaughter of the sheep itself. But that deserves it's own post...
The Move
I have finished my first Rural Homestay. For the past 12 days, I have been living in Delgerkhaan Soum, Hentii Aimag, which is a bumpy five hour drive away from Ulaanbaatar. Mongolia is divided into 21 Aimags, or proviences, which are then divided into Soums. Since there is so much I want to share about this experience, I thought it best to break it down into topical categories, rather than try to make a chronological account of the past two weeks.
Two days after I moved in, it was time for the family (both GERs) to move to follow the heard to better pasture land. I was a little confused as to why they didn't try to tell me it was happening, but as the roof started coming down, I figured it out pretty quickly; I need to pack my things!
I cannot properly describe the moving process, so I will try to post as many pictures as I can. The tear-down process took thirty minutes, that's including loading the truck with one GER. We moved less than 5 KM, but that was enough for even me to tell a difference in the quality of pasture.
As I said, I won't even waste time describing this move - but I do want to comment on the lack of attachment to a specific spot. To me, it was a beautiful, but sad moment when we moved. The whole house was packed up on a truck. I had become attached to the GER, so much had happened to me in it - but there it was, all loaded up on the truck ready to go away. That GER, that spot, meant so much to me, but everyone was just packing it up without giving it a moments pause for reflection on "all of the good times in that home" before moving on! Then, there was even less pause in picking out the new spot for the GER. Not a sigh as the door went up, not a smile as the new home appeared.
To me - this was a process that required closure and acknowledgement of a new beginning, both of which were lacking.
And then I got it.
As all of the furniture was moved back in, as the same items hung from the same sports, as the same wood-chips were used to support the same leaning stove, I realized this was the exact same house. This was the same family, the same positioning (GER doors always face south), the same stuff - this was the same house!
Clearly a Herder feels a strong connection to the land, but on this day I realized that connection was not to a specific plot of land, but rather to the whole of 'mother earth'. Perhaps this is a comment on the left-over socialist policy of government ownership of land. Perhaps as the country shifts to land privatization, this feeling will change and attachment will coincide with ownership, stewardship with self-benefit.
"MINII GER BOL" - My Family
I have finished my first Rural Homestay. For the past 12 days, I have been living in Delgerkhaan Soum, Hentii Aimag, which is a bumpy five hour drive away from Ulaanbaatar. Mongolia is divided into 21 Aimags, or provinces, which are then divided into Soums. Since there is so much I want to share about this experience, I thought it best to break it down into topical categories, rather than try to make a chronological account of the past two weeks.
"GER" directly translated means "house or home." However, the Mongolian word "GER" does not conjure up any of the American images of a home. In fact, I was almost surprised to learn that GER translates to anything at all, rather than to constitute its own new definition. GER is the word for the traditionally nomadic structure that roughly resemble a tepee but with a rounded roof. However, GER is also the word that one uses when talking about an apartment in UB or any structure in which one lives.
To add to this discussion of definition (that resembles one from a Political Theory class), the word GER BOL means "family," not to mention the verb "to marry," which is GER-LEH. After spending only a few days in the country side, with this GER BOL, in this GER, I Understand why the word for 'family' is so connected to the word for 'home.'
For starters, the whole family lives in the one room provided by the GER. For some of my fellow students, this means 7 people. For me, there are only three other students living in the GER - my host father, mother and brother. There is a second GER that moves with mine that houses the second oldest son, his wife and thier one child. My parents have six children, which means at one point this GER was home to 8 people.
The entire contents of the GER include the following: three win-sized beds, 1 table, 1 stove, 1 cupboard for kitchen ware, 1 cupboard for blankets and DELLS, one trunk on which sits the pieces to make it an altar. There is a tin bucket holding the dried cattle dung which is the source of fuel for the stove's fire (there are no trees around), and a car battery to power the single, high-efficiency light bulb.
Reading over this incomplete list, I know it sounds quaint and attractively simple, but it's truly more than enough.
At first, it was almost a game of mine to guess from where the next object would appear. The socks came out from one of the many layers of rugs placed on the wood board of a mattress. Some books and a calender are kept there as well. The giant bowl goes under the bed. The knife from the blanket cupboard. The cutting board came from behind the bed; I still don't know where the sewing machine is kept because I am never there when it is revealed or hidden away again. This lifestyle gives new meaning to the quote, "A place for everything, everything in its place."
Everything serves multiple purposes. During meal time, the beds become counter tops. The soup bowl, after its contents have been eaten, is filled with water and becomes the washing bowl. We use only one bowl to eat, and often without a fork. After we finish the food contents, we fill it with hot tea that both hydrates us and washes the bowl. Many times it is simply placed back onto the shelf after this without further washing.
I am very aware of how much space my single backpack takes up. Every morning, I re-stuff my sleeping bag into its stuffsack and place my sleeping pad under the rug on the bed. I try to hid things under the bed and push my personal things aside so that my bed, too, serves the double purpose as a bench for visitors throughout the day.
The family is wonderful. Despite our language barrier, I communicate well with them and always seem to be the butt of a joke I don't understand. The parents are mid 50s, my host brother is the same age as me. My family has a large heard of goats and sheep. They have about ten stallions, which could mean around 50 or 60 horses (they won't give you an exact number, though there's no doubt in my mind they know, because it is considered bad luck to count your animals). There are also several yak that make an appearance every now and then.