We ate a breakfast of fried dough, yak butter, and milk tea at the stranger's house before leaving at 8:30. We drove back out to the forested middle of nowhere that had been unoccupied last night, and thankfully, the Samaritan's Purse family was there! It was the first time I visited someone in a ger. There were a million flies outside, but the stove in the ger kept out most of them, so after wandering and taking some pictures, I took refuge inside with the drying yoghurt (which, along with horse milk, is also not my favorite).
The kids were less outgoing, but equally adorable. When the girl who had heart surgery realized Gany would be taking pictures of her, she sorted through a barrel for a cuter outfit and had her sister redo her braids.
We only stayed for an hour or so, and after praying with them, we got in the car. Which had a dead battery. I assumed we were doomed, but Gunee and the father of the family had it going in just a few minutes.
After more driving and stopping at random gers to ask for direction, we arrived at Byamba and Sarangoo's ger around 2:00. They knew we were coming sometime around this time of July, so every day they were ready for us to come! I gave them the gifts from the Paulis and the letters from the Wrights. They were super excited, and asked about Woodland. They showed me the photo album that Steve and Candie had put together of their time in the States. It was so weird to see pictures of Woodland in the middle of a steppe in Mongolia! I admit, it made me kind of homesick.
I met some of Byamba's other children and her adorable grandchildren. Her other daughter was just accepted into art university, and Byamba gave me a bunch of the pictures she had drawn and painted.
Of course, we were given lots of milk tea, horse milk, and dried yoghurt. I fell asleep for awhile, but woke up when Gany and four of the grandkids came screaming in. They had been super hesitant around me at first, but once we played the "You Scare Me and I Scream" game way past its expiration point, they loved me. Also, the youngest kid was naked the whole time, and it made me super uncomfortable. I kept imagining being sued for wrong touching or the whole hygienic aspect of it, and...I am still USian at my core, I guess.
They slaughtered a goat and we all sat around outside and gnawed on it's legs. I threw the fat to the dog. Then Gany and I set off to take pictures of the yaks grazing, and a bunch of the kiddos came along. We forded a stream and tried to sneak up on a baby yak, but that was unsuccessful. We skipped back, and sang, and I was once again reminded of how much easier it is to connect with kids rather than adults when there is a language barrier.
When it got cooler, I wrapped my scarf around my shoulders, and the youngest girl went and got a towel to wrap around hers. Cutest thing ever. Several of the men played volleyball in a circle, and once it got dark, Gunee took me out to the horses, where they were being milked. So weird.
Byamba laid out blankets on the floor of her ger, so Gany, Gunee, Gunee's brother and I slept there. Gany and I woke up last, at 9:00. We were served a huge breakfast, and Sarangoo hurried outside because some traders had just come by. She traded a lot of her mom's dried yoghurt for a pair of pants, which was her promised birthday present from March 19.
We were going to pack up the truck, but found out Byamba was cooking for us. So only one hour after breakfast, we had rice and goat seasoned with garlic. And oh my word, it was delicious. I ate so much, and wished I were actually hungry so I could eat more. We finished eating around 10:30, then had to say goodbye. It was actually very sad. I didn't expect to feel so close to them, but seeing familiar faces in a strange country is a powerful thing.
Luckily, I was coming up on three days of not showering and barely changing my clothes, so the thought of a shower made our parting far easier.
We drove back to Tsetserleg, dropped off Gunee's brother and picked up one of his female relatives who wanted to go to Ulaanbaatar. We got coffee from the lovely Fairfield hotel, and the long drive back to UB was relatively uneventful, except for when we hit a bump so hard my coffee flung itself all over the back of the driver's seat and we knocked off a front head light. Ah, Mongolian traveling!
Saturday, July 16, 2011
Mostly Stories of Going to the Bathroom
During breakfast at the hotel, I met one half of the owners, a Christian woman from Australia who, with her husband, wanted to serve God overseas but didn't know what they were qualified to do. Through a missions organization, they decided to buy this hotel, hire Mongolian workers, and encourage the local church. Needless to say, I immediately fell in love with her and took heart from her story.
After we had packed up and were waiting outside for Gunee to pick us up (he is from Tsetserleg, so he stayed with his family, and in fact brought his younger brother along for the rest of our adventure), I chatted with two guys from Germany. At first I liked them, because they said, "We decided to go to Mongolia while we are young. When we are old, then we can go to easy places like Spain.". But then they started complaining about the Mongolian roads and how the Roman empire had made a great road system in a thousand years, so why hadn't Mongolians? I tried suggesting a few reasons, but they waved them off, and I was highly disgusted by their Western pride and superiority.
We set off a little before noon, and spent nearly all of our driving time on dirt roads and dirt ruts, with three foot deep craters and water that had to be forded. I also had an even more interesting bathroom experience. The thing about Mongolia is, even though there are mountains, the huge stretches of land between them are incredibly flat, with no rocks or trees to hide behind. So when we took our bathroom break in the middle of nowhere, the guys went to one side of the car, and Gany and I took a handful of toilet paper and headed off to the other side. We walked about 100 yards away, but the thing about grassy plains is that distance only makes your bare ass smaller, not invisible. We could only rely on Boy Scout promises that no one would look at you as you dropped trou.
After five hours of bouncily driving through the countryside (how do they know where they are or where they're going? It's amazing!), we arrived at a little town where the first Samaritan's Purse family lived. Their little girl, around five or six, had heart surgery in Ulaanbaatar last September, and now she is jumping around with her brother, showing off her dance moves, and hamming it up for Gany's camera.
Mongolian people are extremely generous to their guests. We were given milk tea in bowls (which I have since come to really like) and a cookie bowl was passed around. I took a whole one, then realized everyone else had just taken the broken off pieces. Oops. The cookie was filling, but then they passed around a candy bowl, a bread bowl, and finally, individual bowls of stew. And we had just stopped to eat lunch a little over an hour earlier!
I find that I very much prefer Mongolian visiting to Senegalese. As I expected, I feel more comfortable in Asian/Mongolian culture. While it's acceptable to be a little loud and crazy, that is not the norm. It's totally okay to sit in silence. People don't clamor to talk to you, and the whole event is far more peaceful.
Before we left, Gany and I went to the bathroom (anywhere with walls is my new preference). Except when we went in the outhouse, it is made for multiple people at the same time. Not wanting to look rude by spinning around and walking out on Gany, we squattie pottied together. I am learning new levels of non-privacy.
We arrived at our one-room-hotel's town around 8:00, but the owners were at a special picnic indefinitely (HAHAHA what!?) so we decided to find the second Samaritan's Purse family. This led to a wild goose chase in which we picked up random people, found empty houses and gers, and drove all over the place into the dark. It would have been an adventure, except I was always one and a half steps behind on our plan. I learned that adventures are only fun when you are aware of what adventure you are on.
At 11:00, the last guy to jump into our truck offered to let us sleep at his house. We sat in his family's living room/bedroom/dining room until Gunee asked if I was tired. I accidentally said yes, and a rug was rolled out in the center of the floor. I was completely mortified by the idea of curling up to sleep in the middle of the room while everyone else continued to watch TV and chat. Gany must have sensed my discomfort (my keening "I don't know what to do!" probably helped) because she unrolled both our sleeping bags, and we both crawled in. It was awkward enough, but it was made worse by Gany psyching me out. After a few minutes, when she thought I was asleep, she got back out of her sleeping bag and continued talking with everyone.
And that's how I slept in a stranger's house, ten in one room, without a pillow, in my clothes and contacts, dreaming of a gorilla chasing me through a grocery store.
Question: was anyone offended when I said "ass" earlier? I thought about using "bare bottom" or "naked behind" but neither of those seemed to convey the awkwardness and crudeness of the situation. I hope no one thinks I am a heathen; I just believe in words being symbols of meaning, and I wanted to crudely symbolize an awkward piece of anatomy.
After we had packed up and were waiting outside for Gunee to pick us up (he is from Tsetserleg, so he stayed with his family, and in fact brought his younger brother along for the rest of our adventure), I chatted with two guys from Germany. At first I liked them, because they said, "We decided to go to Mongolia while we are young. When we are old, then we can go to easy places like Spain.". But then they started complaining about the Mongolian roads and how the Roman empire had made a great road system in a thousand years, so why hadn't Mongolians? I tried suggesting a few reasons, but they waved them off, and I was highly disgusted by their Western pride and superiority.
We set off a little before noon, and spent nearly all of our driving time on dirt roads and dirt ruts, with three foot deep craters and water that had to be forded. I also had an even more interesting bathroom experience. The thing about Mongolia is, even though there are mountains, the huge stretches of land between them are incredibly flat, with no rocks or trees to hide behind. So when we took our bathroom break in the middle of nowhere, the guys went to one side of the car, and Gany and I took a handful of toilet paper and headed off to the other side. We walked about 100 yards away, but the thing about grassy plains is that distance only makes your bare ass smaller, not invisible. We could only rely on Boy Scout promises that no one would look at you as you dropped trou.
After five hours of bouncily driving through the countryside (how do they know where they are or where they're going? It's amazing!), we arrived at a little town where the first Samaritan's Purse family lived. Their little girl, around five or six, had heart surgery in Ulaanbaatar last September, and now she is jumping around with her brother, showing off her dance moves, and hamming it up for Gany's camera.
Mongolian people are extremely generous to their guests. We were given milk tea in bowls (which I have since come to really like) and a cookie bowl was passed around. I took a whole one, then realized everyone else had just taken the broken off pieces. Oops. The cookie was filling, but then they passed around a candy bowl, a bread bowl, and finally, individual bowls of stew. And we had just stopped to eat lunch a little over an hour earlier!
I find that I very much prefer Mongolian visiting to Senegalese. As I expected, I feel more comfortable in Asian/Mongolian culture. While it's acceptable to be a little loud and crazy, that is not the norm. It's totally okay to sit in silence. People don't clamor to talk to you, and the whole event is far more peaceful.
Before we left, Gany and I went to the bathroom (anywhere with walls is my new preference). Except when we went in the outhouse, it is made for multiple people at the same time. Not wanting to look rude by spinning around and walking out on Gany, we squattie pottied together. I am learning new levels of non-privacy.
We arrived at our one-room-hotel's town around 8:00, but the owners were at a special picnic indefinitely (HAHAHA what!?) so we decided to find the second Samaritan's Purse family. This led to a wild goose chase in which we picked up random people, found empty houses and gers, and drove all over the place into the dark. It would have been an adventure, except I was always one and a half steps behind on our plan. I learned that adventures are only fun when you are aware of what adventure you are on.
At 11:00, the last guy to jump into our truck offered to let us sleep at his house. We sat in his family's living room/bedroom/dining room until Gunee asked if I was tired. I accidentally said yes, and a rug was rolled out in the center of the floor. I was completely mortified by the idea of curling up to sleep in the middle of the room while everyone else continued to watch TV and chat. Gany must have sensed my discomfort (my keening "I don't know what to do!" probably helped) because she unrolled both our sleeping bags, and we both crawled in. It was awkward enough, but it was made worse by Gany psyching me out. After a few minutes, when she thought I was asleep, she got back out of her sleeping bag and continued talking with everyone.
And that's how I slept in a stranger's house, ten in one room, without a pillow, in my clothes and contacts, dreaming of a gorilla chasing me through a grocery store.
Question: was anyone offended when I said "ass" earlier? I thought about using "bare bottom" or "naked behind" but neither of those seemed to convey the awkwardness and crudeness of the situation. I hope no one thinks I am a heathen; I just believe in words being symbols of meaning, and I wanted to crudely symbolize an awkward piece of anatomy.
Heading to Greener Pastures
Off to the countryside! We bought a cartload of snacks for us (Gany, me, and our driver Gunee) as well as a cartload of basic foods for the three families we will be visiting. It took nearly an hour to get out of the city, but by 1:30 we were officially out of Ulaanbaatar.
Road trips in Mongolia are quite different from USian travels. For one, the roads are worse even than Illinois roads after snow plows. We were on paved roads most of the time, but every once in a while the road would be blocked off for construction or something, and we had to take incredibly bumpy detours. I think it might have even been crazier than Travis driving down barely existent roads outside Fatick.
For two, the general laid-backness of Mongolians means pit stops and side shows are no big deal. We stopped for lunch (khuushur again...greasy goodness) at a couple stands set up in the middle of nowhere. Turns out it was the finish point of the Naadam horse races that day. We drove on, and 22 kilometers later, we saw the starting point. We stopped to watch them take off, so I guess I've officially seen one of the Naadam sports.
A couple hours later there was a random strip of sandy desert type landscape. It was a tourist haven, because there were camels to ride for only 2,000 turegs! (That's less than $2) Gany convinced me to ride one. I can now definitively tell the world that it is far easier to ride a two-hump camel than a one-hump. It's also super fun to be led around by an adorable five or six-year-old kid. Gany walked behind me, taking pictures. I felt a little like a celebrity.
But the real experience at that stop was the bathroom. A ways away from the road there were three nylon sides of a square that only went maybe two and a half feet high. Inside the square was an Abyss of Nastiness. There were two strips of metal for your feet, but if you made a misstep, there was a serious chance of stumbling into the Abyss of Nastiness. Once you get situated on the metal strips, you have bend over just to pull down your pants, unless you want to moon the world. Most intense squattie pottie I have yet experienced.
About an hour from our destination, we stopped at a ger that some of Gunee's family lived in. We sat outside on a rug and drank horse milk (which is sour and disgusting, but is a special delicacy if you like that sort of thing) and urum (not so bad--tastes like tortillas soaked in sour cream juice). We stayed there half an hour before heading to our final destination, a really nice touristy hotel in the city of Tsetserleg.
For three, (remember how this is a list?) a road trip through the Mongolian countryside is far more aesthetically pleasing than driving down I-55. The world is all blue and green and brown. The flat plains and the treeless mountains are not striking or majestic...they're just beautiful. And really peaceful.
Staring out the window at the gorgeous landscape that stretches forever impressed upon me the immensity of God, like how the ocean does that for water-inclined people. God, as revealed through his creation, just seemed so big and so beautiful, and all my insecurities and desires seemed insignificant in comparison.
I've been thinking about how to be in God. To stop doing, to stop proving myself and earning earthly applause, and to just be. To learn about God, to try be like Jesus, to grow by the Holy Spirit. I think if I focused on being with God and being like God, then all those good deeds and saving the world actions would flow from that internal change, but without the pride and selfishness.
This trip has been difficult to summarize. It's not a mission trip, and it's not a vacation. It's just life, being lived in Mongolia for three weeks. Seeing the wildness and beauty of the Mongolian countryside made me want to live a big life, unhindered by labels or categories.
God gave me the opportunity to come here. I came. Things are happening, relationships are continuing and starting. My mind and my spirit are expanding. And isn't that enough? Isn't that the point of life?
Road trips in Mongolia are quite different from USian travels. For one, the roads are worse even than Illinois roads after snow plows. We were on paved roads most of the time, but every once in a while the road would be blocked off for construction or something, and we had to take incredibly bumpy detours. I think it might have even been crazier than Travis driving down barely existent roads outside Fatick.
For two, the general laid-backness of Mongolians means pit stops and side shows are no big deal. We stopped for lunch (khuushur again...greasy goodness) at a couple stands set up in the middle of nowhere. Turns out it was the finish point of the Naadam horse races that day. We drove on, and 22 kilometers later, we saw the starting point. We stopped to watch them take off, so I guess I've officially seen one of the Naadam sports.
A couple hours later there was a random strip of sandy desert type landscape. It was a tourist haven, because there were camels to ride for only 2,000 turegs! (That's less than $2) Gany convinced me to ride one. I can now definitively tell the world that it is far easier to ride a two-hump camel than a one-hump. It's also super fun to be led around by an adorable five or six-year-old kid. Gany walked behind me, taking pictures. I felt a little like a celebrity.
But the real experience at that stop was the bathroom. A ways away from the road there were three nylon sides of a square that only went maybe two and a half feet high. Inside the square was an Abyss of Nastiness. There were two strips of metal for your feet, but if you made a misstep, there was a serious chance of stumbling into the Abyss of Nastiness. Once you get situated on the metal strips, you have bend over just to pull down your pants, unless you want to moon the world. Most intense squattie pottie I have yet experienced.
About an hour from our destination, we stopped at a ger that some of Gunee's family lived in. We sat outside on a rug and drank horse milk (which is sour and disgusting, but is a special delicacy if you like that sort of thing) and urum (not so bad--tastes like tortillas soaked in sour cream juice). We stayed there half an hour before heading to our final destination, a really nice touristy hotel in the city of Tsetserleg.
For three, (remember how this is a list?) a road trip through the Mongolian countryside is far more aesthetically pleasing than driving down I-55. The world is all blue and green and brown. The flat plains and the treeless mountains are not striking or majestic...they're just beautiful. And really peaceful.
Staring out the window at the gorgeous landscape that stretches forever impressed upon me the immensity of God, like how the ocean does that for water-inclined people. God, as revealed through his creation, just seemed so big and so beautiful, and all my insecurities and desires seemed insignificant in comparison.
I've been thinking about how to be in God. To stop doing, to stop proving myself and earning earthly applause, and to just be. To learn about God, to try be like Jesus, to grow by the Holy Spirit. I think if I focused on being with God and being like God, then all those good deeds and saving the world actions would flow from that internal change, but without the pride and selfishness.
This trip has been difficult to summarize. It's not a mission trip, and it's not a vacation. It's just life, being lived in Mongolia for three weeks. Seeing the wildness and beauty of the Mongolian countryside made me want to live a big life, unhindered by labels or categories.
God gave me the opportunity to come here. I came. Things are happening, relationships are continuing and starting. My mind and my spirit are expanding. And isn't that enough? Isn't that the point of life?
First Taste of Culture Shock
I got up like normal and grabbed some milk to make a bowl of cereal in my room. Anya's mom came to my door and said something that included the word "breakfast." I figured she meant she would make breakfast, so don't eat. I knew that would take awhile, so I took a shower and started getting ready. Half an hour later, Anya came to my door and said, "My mother wants you to eat with us." Oops. I went into their room and saw the coffee table already laden with meat, bread, apples, and milk tea.
We watched some of the Naadam wrestling on TV, and I talked to Anya for an hour or so. I really like the pace of life here. Get up around 9:00, eat breakfast around 10:00. Eat lunch between 2:00 and 3:00. Have fun etc until you eat dinner at 8:00 or 9:00, then go to bed sometime after midnight.
Gany picked me up, and we walked to her Samaritan's Purse office to use WiFi. Then we took a bus downtown and ate a streetside meat pastry lunch. A couple days ago we bought tickets to see Transformers 3, so we returned to the most awesome movie theater in the world.
It was there that I experienced my first bout of culture shock. We stopped by the restrooms before watching the movie, and it was crazy crowded, and you basically have to push your way to a stall. Then we got in line for popcorn, and once more people just push their way to the counter. Then we got in line to enter the theater, and again with the pushing. I hated it.
However, the movie was good. It was my first time watching a movie in 3D, and while it was enjoyable, I don't think it's the best way to watch a movie.
With my first unenjoyable Mongolian experience combined with a bit of homesickness from watching an American movie set in Chicago, I was in a bad mood to join eight of the youth group in cramming into Boggi's truck and driving to an apartment to get blankets, a store to get food, and another store to get cups. Everyone was laughing uproariously, and neither Gany nor Anya bothered to translate.
That feeling where you're in a crowd, literally smooshed in a backseat with five other people, but you feel invisible? That's not a fun feeling. We got to a riverside campfire by 9:15, and everyone else continued to have a good time while I just sat on the blanket and stared into the fire. I guess after four days of performing and being outgoing, I was out of juice. It didn't help that none of the Mongolian youth I had become friends with were a part of this inner circle.
A couple hours later, we drove to the same hill we climbed on Sunday. And finally, a break! Three of them left, leaving just me, Gany, Anya, Tsogi, and Chinguun. People finally talked to me, we took some pictures of the city by night, and then hiked down the hill and along the streets.
I was in a much better mood, but then things got awkward. Chinguun had apparently felt bad for me back at the campfire, worried that I was bored (which is nice and all, but intentions don't matter if there's no action to back it up!), so he carried on a conversation with me via Anya the translator. And she is a dangerous translator.
He asked what I liked about Mongolia, and I said I like the youth group a lot. When she repeated it in Mongolian, everyone laughed, which I thought was weird. A couple minutes later she told me, "I said that you really liked the young people, especially him!" And so it continued, with her making flirty comments from him and asking if I found him attractive, and what!? There is no easy answer for that.
Needless to say, although I was glad to be talked too, I was really grateful when we finally caught a cab and made it back to the apartment at 1:30 in the morning.
We watched some of the Naadam wrestling on TV, and I talked to Anya for an hour or so. I really like the pace of life here. Get up around 9:00, eat breakfast around 10:00. Eat lunch between 2:00 and 3:00. Have fun etc until you eat dinner at 8:00 or 9:00, then go to bed sometime after midnight.
Gany picked me up, and we walked to her Samaritan's Purse office to use WiFi. Then we took a bus downtown and ate a streetside meat pastry lunch. A couple days ago we bought tickets to see Transformers 3, so we returned to the most awesome movie theater in the world.
It was there that I experienced my first bout of culture shock. We stopped by the restrooms before watching the movie, and it was crazy crowded, and you basically have to push your way to a stall. Then we got in line for popcorn, and once more people just push their way to the counter. Then we got in line to enter the theater, and again with the pushing. I hated it.
However, the movie was good. It was my first time watching a movie in 3D, and while it was enjoyable, I don't think it's the best way to watch a movie.
With my first unenjoyable Mongolian experience combined with a bit of homesickness from watching an American movie set in Chicago, I was in a bad mood to join eight of the youth group in cramming into Boggi's truck and driving to an apartment to get blankets, a store to get food, and another store to get cups. Everyone was laughing uproariously, and neither Gany nor Anya bothered to translate.
That feeling where you're in a crowd, literally smooshed in a backseat with five other people, but you feel invisible? That's not a fun feeling. We got to a riverside campfire by 9:15, and everyone else continued to have a good time while I just sat on the blanket and stared into the fire. I guess after four days of performing and being outgoing, I was out of juice. It didn't help that none of the Mongolian youth I had become friends with were a part of this inner circle.
A couple hours later, we drove to the same hill we climbed on Sunday. And finally, a break! Three of them left, leaving just me, Gany, Anya, Tsogi, and Chinguun. People finally talked to me, we took some pictures of the city by night, and then hiked down the hill and along the streets.
I was in a much better mood, but then things got awkward. Chinguun had apparently felt bad for me back at the campfire, worried that I was bored (which is nice and all, but intentions don't matter if there's no action to back it up!), so he carried on a conversation with me via Anya the translator. And she is a dangerous translator.
He asked what I liked about Mongolia, and I said I like the youth group a lot. When she repeated it in Mongolian, everyone laughed, which I thought was weird. A couple minutes later she told me, "I said that you really liked the young people, especially him!" And so it continued, with her making flirty comments from him and asking if I found him attractive, and what!? There is no easy answer for that.
Needless to say, although I was glad to be talked too, I was really grateful when we finally caught a cab and made it back to the apartment at 1:30 in the morning.
Tuesday, July 12, 2011
Naadam Opening Ceremonies and Movieish Night
Naadam! The celebration of Mongolia's awesomeness. More specifically, the celebration of 2,220 years since the Huns, 805 years since the Great Mongolian Empire, 100 years since Mongolian independence, and 90 years since the Mongolian Revolution.
Anya and I were picked up by some staff from the Samaritan's Purse, and we met up with the team from Australia at the stadium at 7:30 a.m. We had to wait in line for a hour and a half before we could enter the stadium, and then we sat for another two hours before the Opening Ceremony began at 11:00.
All that waiting gave me plenty of time to get to know Emily, a nurse who loves to travel and will soon be visiting Istanbul, and Laura, a former Journeygirl to Afghanistan who obviously has some really fantastic stories to tell.
The Opening Ceremony was just as good, if not better, than the Olympics. It lasted two hours. There were soldiers standing guard over Ghengis Khan's nine flags the entire time, while the world's awesomest marching band routine went on around them. Okay, not exactly a marching band, but music was played while hundreds of little kids made lines and stars on the field and danced. Then the Mongolian horde ran out onto the field, posed in fighting stances, and did their own routine. They ended organized into the symbol on the Mongolian flag while some horde in silver and gold came out and danced to Mongolian rap. Let me tell you, dancers have never looked so fierce.
The president spoke, there were national instruments, and important people and important symbols paraded around the track circling the field. It was fantastic and colorful, and I totally get why the Mongolians have so much pride.
We left before the wrestlers came out, because there are 1,024 of them, and it is only interesting in the finals (according to Anya and Gany, who joined us at noon). There were hundreds of little food stands set up outside the stadium, very much like a state fair. We ate some more khuushuur, the delicious fried bread/meat/onion fast food thing. Gany and I got stick on tattoos of the Mongolian flag. Then we separated from the Australian team and joined the insanely compact crowd that was heading back to the city proper.
We caught a bus that took us into the city suburbs, called the ger district, which could easily be called slums. It took nearly an hour to get out there, what with Naadam traffic being so ridiculous, but eventually we arrived at Gany's father's house. They fed us a ton of food, and I didn't eat enough to satisfy them, but luckily Gany assured them she could eat enough for both of us.
We only stayed for maybe an hour before taking two of her cousins with us to Galaa's house for a youth group movie night. I found out that Johnny (formerly Chatty Johnny) is Galaa's little brother, which means their family is made up of my favorite people that I've met so far, which is fun. Their apartment is USian nice, and when Galaa asked if I had brought my iPad, he told me they had wireless. What!?
Johnny curled up in my lap while Galaa showed me some music and gaming apps to get. Then we watched some clips from a weirdly hilarious cartoon Galaa likes. By then, more of the youth group had shown up, so I mingled in the living room. Anar speaks English really well, so we talked for awhile. Then another girl whose name I don't know taught me a whole slew of Mongolian words, and several people gathered around to laugh at my attempts and correct me and sometimes, to praise me.
As I am beginning to realize is the norm, someone brought out the guitar, so I started a dance party. As I do. Dance transcends all language. Some kids went put to buy Ramen around 8:30, and I played the fast hand slapping game with Galaa. I like him because he treats me as one of the group, making fun of me and being very handsy (as they all are with each other). So he's cute and my love language is touch. What's a girl to do? If that girl is me, she kicks the boy, because Galaa was hand slapping unnecessarily hard, right on my sunburnt hand. So I yelled, "OW!" and kicked him in the shin. But he just grinned, petted my hand, and slapped me again.
When the Ramen was cooked, he put his arm around my shoulders and pointed to Gany and Johnny and said, "Look at their mouths. It is funny." Which of course made me super self-conscious about slurping my own Ramen, especially when the girl who was teaching me Mongolian returned for lesson #2. Let me just say, practicing all those back-of-the-throat guttural sounds with noodles in your mouth? Is a really good way to projectile spit your food on your audience.
A projector was set up (yeah, I'm sayin'--the kid is rich), and we were going to watch a movie, but something wasn't working right. Eventually Anya supplied her iPhone, but the only movies she had on there were Bible movies in Mongolian. Since it was already after 10:00, Gany, Tsogi (her boyfriend, have I mentioned him yet? He's very nice) and I walked home.
I'm really proud of the fact that after being here four days, I was able to spend five hours at a party and only hang out with Gany for a minimal amount of time. I do far better at assimilating on my own than with a team.
Anya and I were picked up by some staff from the Samaritan's Purse, and we met up with the team from Australia at the stadium at 7:30 a.m. We had to wait in line for a hour and a half before we could enter the stadium, and then we sat for another two hours before the Opening Ceremony began at 11:00.
All that waiting gave me plenty of time to get to know Emily, a nurse who loves to travel and will soon be visiting Istanbul, and Laura, a former Journeygirl to Afghanistan who obviously has some really fantastic stories to tell.
The Opening Ceremony was just as good, if not better, than the Olympics. It lasted two hours. There were soldiers standing guard over Ghengis Khan's nine flags the entire time, while the world's awesomest marching band routine went on around them. Okay, not exactly a marching band, but music was played while hundreds of little kids made lines and stars on the field and danced. Then the Mongolian horde ran out onto the field, posed in fighting stances, and did their own routine. They ended organized into the symbol on the Mongolian flag while some horde in silver and gold came out and danced to Mongolian rap. Let me tell you, dancers have never looked so fierce.
The president spoke, there were national instruments, and important people and important symbols paraded around the track circling the field. It was fantastic and colorful, and I totally get why the Mongolians have so much pride.
We left before the wrestlers came out, because there are 1,024 of them, and it is only interesting in the finals (according to Anya and Gany, who joined us at noon). There were hundreds of little food stands set up outside the stadium, very much like a state fair. We ate some more khuushuur, the delicious fried bread/meat/onion fast food thing. Gany and I got stick on tattoos of the Mongolian flag. Then we separated from the Australian team and joined the insanely compact crowd that was heading back to the city proper.
We caught a bus that took us into the city suburbs, called the ger district, which could easily be called slums. It took nearly an hour to get out there, what with Naadam traffic being so ridiculous, but eventually we arrived at Gany's father's house. They fed us a ton of food, and I didn't eat enough to satisfy them, but luckily Gany assured them she could eat enough for both of us.
We only stayed for maybe an hour before taking two of her cousins with us to Galaa's house for a youth group movie night. I found out that Johnny (formerly Chatty Johnny) is Galaa's little brother, which means their family is made up of my favorite people that I've met so far, which is fun. Their apartment is USian nice, and when Galaa asked if I had brought my iPad, he told me they had wireless. What!?
Johnny curled up in my lap while Galaa showed me some music and gaming apps to get. Then we watched some clips from a weirdly hilarious cartoon Galaa likes. By then, more of the youth group had shown up, so I mingled in the living room. Anar speaks English really well, so we talked for awhile. Then another girl whose name I don't know taught me a whole slew of Mongolian words, and several people gathered around to laugh at my attempts and correct me and sometimes, to praise me.
As I am beginning to realize is the norm, someone brought out the guitar, so I started a dance party. As I do. Dance transcends all language. Some kids went put to buy Ramen around 8:30, and I played the fast hand slapping game with Galaa. I like him because he treats me as one of the group, making fun of me and being very handsy (as they all are with each other). So he's cute and my love language is touch. What's a girl to do? If that girl is me, she kicks the boy, because Galaa was hand slapping unnecessarily hard, right on my sunburnt hand. So I yelled, "OW!" and kicked him in the shin. But he just grinned, petted my hand, and slapped me again.
When the Ramen was cooked, he put his arm around my shoulders and pointed to Gany and Johnny and said, "Look at their mouths. It is funny." Which of course made me super self-conscious about slurping my own Ramen, especially when the girl who was teaching me Mongolian returned for lesson #2. Let me just say, practicing all those back-of-the-throat guttural sounds with noodles in your mouth? Is a really good way to projectile spit your food on your audience.
A projector was set up (yeah, I'm sayin'--the kid is rich), and we were going to watch a movie, but something wasn't working right. Eventually Anya supplied her iPhone, but the only movies she had on there were Bible movies in Mongolian. Since it was already after 10:00, Gany, Tsogi (her boyfriend, have I mentioned him yet? He's very nice) and I walked home.
I'm really proud of the fact that after being here four days, I was able to spend five hours at a party and only hang out with Gany for a minimal amount of time. I do far better at assimilating on my own than with a team.
Monday, July 11, 2011
Climbing a Mountain. Hill.
Mongolia is similar to other slow-paced countries where people mostly travel by public transportation--nothing happens at an exact time. You just show up whenever you can.
I thought I was going to Bible study with Anya at 9:00, but since she didn't wake up until five minutes after that, I figured that was off the table. We ended up going to church at 10:45. We took a cab and saw a military escort of tanks, showing off for Naadam. Anya is pretty cool. I think it'll be fun to live with her.
The church service was unique today because they were having a rededication service for their development building. A team from the Australian Samaritan's Purse (which helped fund it) was here. The kids from the orphanage performed some songs, Scripture memorization, and acrobatics. The teen whose idea it was to start helping local kids was commissioned and prayed over. It was all very cool.
Afterward, I got out of my anti-social bubble and talked to some of the other team in UB from Virginia and some of the Mongolian youth. When Gany was still singing with the youth elsewhere, I went to find a quiet place to play with my iPad. A boy who is my favorite, Galaa, came and said, "Give me your iPad," and he promptly did more with it than I knew was possible. A few minutes later, the instruments were put away, and ten of us headed to the bus stop.
We rode to the end of town, where we got 'Mongolian McDonalds,' which is a hot meat pastry thing called khuushuur. Youth are the same everywhere, apparently, because we played hand games and pushing games and the human knot while waiting for the food. We walked to a park to eat it, then hiked a tourist mountain. It is a tourist mountain because there are steps. And tourists.
Most of them know a little English, and as we became friends, they were more comfortable trying it out on me. One girl named Enkhtuya sang praise songs with me and taught me some Mongolian vocabulary. At the top we took jumping pictures, famous the world over. Then we sat on a step and sang "I'm Yours" and "Rolling in the Deep" while The Handsome One (self-proclaimed, his real name is Chinguun) accompanied us on guitar. Some tourists took videos of us, hahahaha.
By the time we walked back to the bus stop, it was 7:30, and I had made some really fun friends.
I thought I was going to Bible study with Anya at 9:00, but since she didn't wake up until five minutes after that, I figured that was off the table. We ended up going to church at 10:45. We took a cab and saw a military escort of tanks, showing off for Naadam. Anya is pretty cool. I think it'll be fun to live with her.
The church service was unique today because they were having a rededication service for their development building. A team from the Australian Samaritan's Purse (which helped fund it) was here. The kids from the orphanage performed some songs, Scripture memorization, and acrobatics. The teen whose idea it was to start helping local kids was commissioned and prayed over. It was all very cool.
Afterward, I got out of my anti-social bubble and talked to some of the other team in UB from Virginia and some of the Mongolian youth. When Gany was still singing with the youth elsewhere, I went to find a quiet place to play with my iPad. A boy who is my favorite, Galaa, came and said, "Give me your iPad," and he promptly did more with it than I knew was possible. A few minutes later, the instruments were put away, and ten of us headed to the bus stop.
We rode to the end of town, where we got 'Mongolian McDonalds,' which is a hot meat pastry thing called khuushuur. Youth are the same everywhere, apparently, because we played hand games and pushing games and the human knot while waiting for the food. We walked to a park to eat it, then hiked a tourist mountain. It is a tourist mountain because there are steps. And tourists.
Most of them know a little English, and as we became friends, they were more comfortable trying it out on me. One girl named Enkhtuya sang praise songs with me and taught me some Mongolian vocabulary. At the top we took jumping pictures, famous the world over. Then we sat on a step and sang "I'm Yours" and "Rolling in the Deep" while The Handsome One (self-proclaimed, his real name is Chinguun) accompanied us on guitar. Some tourists took videos of us, hahahaha.
By the time we walked back to the bus stop, it was 7:30, and I had made some really fun friends.
Youth Group
Every Saturday at 1:30, Gany's church youth group has their own worship service, and any street kids are welcome to join. They started this completely on their own and have been going strong for a couple years now. These kids are amazing! (Hah, kids. The average age is probably 18 plus or minus three.)
There were sixteen of us, and at least seven were in the worship band, which was really spectacular. We sang three songs then sat in a circle and gave any weekly testimonies people wanted to share. They were willing to go deep, sharing some insecurities and prayer requests and awesome things that had happened that week. I felt like my dream of church intimacy and honesty was staring me in the face. Finally, one girl led a bit of discussion/devotion, and Gany translated for me the whole time. She's quite good.
We hung around for a couple hours after. I made friends with some kiddos, especially a little boy named Chatty Johnny (that is what he told me his name s, and I love it so much I refuse to call him anything else). He has adorable curly hair, and he knows a lot of English. I read him several books, and we practiced what sounds animals make. Whenever he doesn't know an answer, he tilts his head, puts his finger to the corner of his mouth, and says, "Hmm." Adorable.
I also made friends with some of the older ones when brought out my iPad. We sang along to Adele and played Angry Birds and Smule. Some of them know English, so I was able to converse a tiny bit.
Gany and I left at 4:45 to go see Transformers 3, but the trolley we took was incredibly slow due to how a quick storm had flooded the streets. We arrived too late, but bought tickets for Tuesday night. I'm kind of super excited, because no lie, this is the fanciest movie theater I've ever seen. Which means, yes, I've found the tourist district. And now Ulaanbaatar officially stands a step above Dakar.
We went to a game center instead, where you pay for a hour's worth of Wii or PS3 time. The place is snazzy. All gaming should be done in places like this. We played Wii Sports, since Gany had never played before.
"Later, you will have to teach me how to punch! You are so fast, and right to my face!" Gany said after we boxed. Thanks, p90x kenpo.
Apparently there is karaoke there too, so later in my trip we will go with Anya. This place feels so quintessentially Asian, it makes my heart explode.
We took another bus home, and as it was already 8:30 and past my bedtime, because I'm LAME and foible to jet lag like all traveling losers, I nearly fell asleep five times. But I didn't through sheer force of will. We walked another fifteen minutes to the apartment, where I dipped bread in a jar of peanut butter for my dinner. My eating habits are wonky here.
I realized that this is the first time I've traveled and hung out exclusively with locals. That's kind of cool.
There were sixteen of us, and at least seven were in the worship band, which was really spectacular. We sang three songs then sat in a circle and gave any weekly testimonies people wanted to share. They were willing to go deep, sharing some insecurities and prayer requests and awesome things that had happened that week. I felt like my dream of church intimacy and honesty was staring me in the face. Finally, one girl led a bit of discussion/devotion, and Gany translated for me the whole time. She's quite good.
We hung around for a couple hours after. I made friends with some kiddos, especially a little boy named Chatty Johnny (that is what he told me his name s, and I love it so much I refuse to call him anything else). He has adorable curly hair, and he knows a lot of English. I read him several books, and we practiced what sounds animals make. Whenever he doesn't know an answer, he tilts his head, puts his finger to the corner of his mouth, and says, "Hmm." Adorable.
I also made friends with some of the older ones when brought out my iPad. We sang along to Adele and played Angry Birds and Smule. Some of them know English, so I was able to converse a tiny bit.
Gany and I left at 4:45 to go see Transformers 3, but the trolley we took was incredibly slow due to how a quick storm had flooded the streets. We arrived too late, but bought tickets for Tuesday night. I'm kind of super excited, because no lie, this is the fanciest movie theater I've ever seen. Which means, yes, I've found the tourist district. And now Ulaanbaatar officially stands a step above Dakar.
We went to a game center instead, where you pay for a hour's worth of Wii or PS3 time. The place is snazzy. All gaming should be done in places like this. We played Wii Sports, since Gany had never played before.
"Later, you will have to teach me how to punch! You are so fast, and right to my face!" Gany said after we boxed. Thanks, p90x kenpo.
Apparently there is karaoke there too, so later in my trip we will go with Anya. This place feels so quintessentially Asian, it makes my heart explode.
We took another bus home, and as it was already 8:30 and past my bedtime, because I'm LAME and foible to jet lag like all traveling losers, I nearly fell asleep five times. But I didn't through sheer force of will. We walked another fifteen minutes to the apartment, where I dipped bread in a jar of peanut butter for my dinner. My eating habits are wonky here.
I realized that this is the first time I've traveled and hung out exclusively with locals. That's kind of cool.
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