Stories in Which I am Embarrassed and/or Mean

I am really going to miss Gany.  In just three weeks, she has become a very dear friend, and I hope very much to see her many more times in the future, either in the US or in Mongolia.  Or both!

On Monday morning, she knocked on my bedroom door at 9:00.  She had just gotten back from her weekend retreat, was going home, and would be back at 2:30  to take me to a museum.  I stretched grumpily in bed and replied, "These stupid flies are keeping me awake.  I want to kill them!  But I can't."  She murmured in agreement and disappeared.

Later we rode the bus across the city to learn about Chinngis Khan and how George W. Bush is secretly her father.  After going through the museum at the exact same pace (hurray that she is not a dawdler!) we returned home very slowly, stopping at one restaurant for khuushur, then another for coffee, and a last grocery store for ice cream.

In between, we were that group walking on the streets that is obnoxious to outsiders and deliciously fun to be a part of.  What I mean is, we laughed uproariously, staggered into each other, loudly told stories and repeated lines even more loudly.

Among the stories told were how deathly afraid Gany is of bugs, and how once in her yard, she flung off her pants because a bug crawled inside.  When she calmed down, she realized a neighbor boy was staring at her in shock.

I in turn reminded her of the night it rained at the orphanage camp, thereby cutting us off from our normal clothes-changing location (the front steps, which were pitch black by that time) and forcing me to change behind a crib.  My pants would not come off quickly, and Gany had laughed at me, remarking that it's always when we want to be discreet that we are unable.  When I finally leaped into my pajamas, I glanced over to see the three older boys staring at me.

Then we passed a guest house that advertised tank driving.  We stared at each other in shock--surely not real tanks?  I railed at her, saying she should have arranged for me to stay there so I could drive through the streets of UB in a tank.

She said I would probably end up a dictator, for these three reasons: 1. I throw children against steps, 2. I dress little boys inappropriately, and 3. I call children mean names.  More stories are necessary.

1.  One afternoon at the orphanage camp, two girls were sitting on me, one on each knee.  I had accidentally bounced them like riding a horse, humming the William Tell Overture.  They loved this, and made me repeat it ten times.  This made my legs extremely tired, so as was my way of getting out of those situations, I pretended to need something from the room.  But the girls wouldn't get off.  I would pull one away and go for the other, but the first had already relatched herself to my knee.  Eventually I just stood up, which caused one of them to fall backwards and bang her head against the stair edge.  I made sure she wasn't bleeding copiously, said, "Uuchlarai! Sorry!" and ran into the room out of self-preservation.

2.  Gany's accusation is not quite accurate.  There was one toddler with the biggest, most adorable eyes in the world.  The orphans don't tend to worry about masculine or feminine clothes, especially not hats, especially not for the littler kids.  So I took a picture of him wearing a flowered hat (that's him in my arms in the picture on Facebook).  Later they put a girly beaded head adornment on him, and he was so freaking adorable I took another picture.  So no, I don't dress kids inappropriately, but yes, I do document the occasions on which I find them as such.

3.  I only learned two of the orphan's names.  Yes, that's horrible.  But I had my own names for them, and while we were eating khuushur, I got their real names from Gany by telling her what I had named them.  Some were at least nice, such as Big Eyed Toddler (previously mentioned) and Adorable Girl I Haven't Done Much With.  Others were funny, such as Sleepy Potty Toddler and Girl I Slept Holding Hands.  But yes, some were mean.  BUT, I should point out that Gany immediately knew who I meant when I asked the names of Cranky Toddler and Annoying Girl.

It is maybe possible that Gany's joke in Tserig is true: I have gotten meaner in Asia.  But no, I think I have always been mean.  However, my meanness makes for hilarious sidewalk stories with friends.