Mongolia is kind of like a parade- there are always interesting things to see, friendly people, and NEVER a shortage of candy.

Some beginning tales of my first couple days in BX:

My ger

my first ger fire

I live in ger now.  It's awesome.  I roughly hit my head about 28 times a day...on average. (yes I keep a tally)  I maybe should have brought my derby helmet.  Anyway, after a day of not sleeping – due to awkward plane times to BX, I arrived at my ger as the sun was rising around it.  When I first entered my ger, I was with the school director, two random Mongolians that helped carry my bag, and my hasha neighbor.  There was of course a plate of offerings passed around- what I thought, in my very tired state, to be dried cheese curd.  I respectfully took a piece, and since everyone was watching me, took a small bite to be polite.  Much to my surprise, I discovered that this treat was not the dried cheese curd that I so dislike, but it was in fact, just solidified grease.  SURPRISE!

Also, my ger smells like a camel.  Given that all the bactrian camels are out in the countryside, and not actually in the city as I originally thought, I am taking this as a win. 

The hasha dog

My new hasha dog...is vicious.  I heard a rumors about the dog before I even arrived, and turns out, they were true.  terrifying.  nothing like Balto.  It is a very husky brute of a dog with blood red eyes and an inward breathing growl that just creates fear. Due to its viciousness it is kept chained to the fence.  It’s name is Bankor (for now, always subject to change).  I have been slowly feeding it bites of solidified grease every time I walk past as to get him to like me and not want to eat my face off. 

Meat soup

So I spent two weeks through this big change living out of my suitcase and buying food from stores that I wanted to eat.  like vegetables.  My awesome personally crafted diet included very little, if any meat.  The morning  i moved into my ger, my hasha family brought me over a bowl of meat noodle soup to eat before i went to sleep.  Now, normally, i would eat around the meat, but this particular morning, it was weird...I WANTED to eat the meat, and I found myself eating around the noodles...I was very highly surprised by my actions, and began wondering how much I have actually changed since coming to Mongolia...my wonder however ceased when my hasha family also decided to share dinner with me...meat rice.  My normal self was back...wishing that Balto was around to share my dinner with.  I took this opportunity to share the meat with Bankor, in hopes, again, that he will now not want to eat my face off any more. 

More tales of meat.

My hasha neighbor  took me grocery shopping the day after my arrival.  I picked up all my basics, like flour, rice, onions, a couple eggs, etc.  And when I told my hasha neighbor I was ready to check out, she gave me the craziest look! She asked me about what meat I wanted to buy, as if I forgot to put meat into my basket.  I told her it was ok, I would get it next time, but that was absurd to her.  She pulled me to the meat corner, and threw a chunk of pig in my basket.  I asked her how much it was, which of course was absurd to ask, because it was meat.  turns out it was about 7000 tugs (like 5 bucks) and the most expensive thing I would buy that day.  Once leaving the store, she  pulled me across the street to the meat warehouse, telling me that i also needed some cow.  Once inside, it was rows and rows of carcasses hanging about, and I was ushered through them to a cow table.  I expressed that I have to eat the chunk of pig before I buy cow, and my hasha neighbor accepted this statement, and was satisfied that I now knew how to at least get to the cow portion of the meat market.

Spiders.

I think that spiders are going to be my new best friends. They are everywhere in my ger.  My former policy for killing spiders was to live and let live, depending on two things:

1. their decisions to touch/crawl on me; and

2.  if they were poisonous.  (Sorry brown recluses)

However, now, there are just so many in my ger, that my policy has been quickly revised.  My average spiders killed a night is around 18.  I have a specific kill zone for them at least, and as long as the spiders stay out of the area, they are safe.  I lie in my bed at night before I go to sleep, and watch them all crawl around.  When they get in the area next to my bed, I strike.   It's quite exhausting...kind of like counting sheep, only a little more...rugged.

Sometimes in my sleep, I feel them crawling on my body, and I sleepily snatch them and throw them across the room. 

What to do when you put on an article of clothing and realize that it has a spider hiding in it:

1. Scream, loudly
2. Strip and Trip – defined as the process of taking off your clothes in such a fast, panic-ed manner, that you literally fall on your face.
3. Shake out your clothes both inside and out
4. Get dressed, again, but this time in fear.

Oatmeal

I love oatmeal.  that is a given fact.  It is a little scarce in Mongolia, so when I saw some in Suhkbaator, i naturally bought it, and packed it in my suitcase to move to Bayankhongor.  Well, the other day, some Mongolians that did not speak english came to fix the bed in my ger.  One of them spotted the oatmeal, and let out a chuckle with a confused look on her face.  She asked me why I had horse food...and I said, neigh...thats my food.  She laughed. Asking me what it was called, I looked it up in the dictionary, and showed it to her. The dictionary translated it as some type of rice, so the Mongolian understood.  She then said something to the extent of 'octo-mill' to which I thought was a Mongolian word I didnt understand before I realized she was saying oatmeal.

A dry sink. 

If you are unfamiliar, a dry sink is a sink without pipes or running water that you can use for your sink needs.  There is a bucket underneath that catches the water you use, and when it fills up, you empty it. The water in the bucket is always very nasty, and the bucket below my dry sink is pretty gross and rusted, but you know, it does its job.  My dry sink also has a quite abnormally large hole that the water and what not drains down.  Things fall into my sink a lot, which created a fun game that I hate to play called, will that fit down my dry sink hole.  So far, here are the results:

Nail polish: yes.

chapstick: of course.

entire bar or soap: naturally

vitamin bottle: no. awesome.

toothbrush holder: surprising, when dropped at the right angle, yes. 

my eyeglasses: of course. why wouldnt they.

Social Situations

It is not uncommon in Mongolia for people to drink shots of vodka...and most times, when gathered in a circle and shots are being passed, it is normal for the person receivng the shot to start singing a song, and then everyone else joins  in.  At the end of the song, the song leader takes the shot, and the process starts again.  I really only know two legit traditional Mongolian songs, one of which is the Mongolian National anthem, so really, in such drinking situations - not appropriate.  So the other day, my counter parts all got together to celebrate one of the teachers getting married.  I found myself in such a singing situation, and much to my horror, before it was my turn to take the shot, someone had already sang the only other song that I knew.  A few songs later, it was finally my turn...and I just sat there with an awkward smile on my face, with everyone egging me, saying, surely you know another song...and they were right, i did...Naraa Naraa Naashar...the mongol equivalent of ring around the rosie...so I started singing, and with a laugh, everyone joined me for a very rushed sing a long. 

Fermented Mare's Milk

Actually not that bad.  Maybe like a creamy champagne?

Picture time:

my fellow english teachers

yaks!

view from the mountain top...with yaks of course

Big life changes

So a lot has happened for me in the past month and some.  I have said goodbye to my host family, moved to Dakhan, went through my final Peace Corps training sessions, found out my placement, met my new bosses, moved to the Ulaanbaator, got official sworn in as a Peace Corps Volunteer, moved into my new life for the next two years, got very ill for a bit, met all of my counterparts, started teaching english, and have been slowly exploring my new home.  Its been a little exhausting to say the least.

Here are some tales from my last couple weeks in northern Mongolia:

A sisters tale

After dark is quite dark in Xorollol.  there are no street lights, and clouds mostly cover the moon.  It's pitch black.  One night, my sister asked me to accompany her to the nearest store (delgor) to get some bread for the morning.  It is about a 5 minute walk, and the day had spent its time raining, leaving puddles scattered about on the mud roads.  We embarked on our journey, and as soon as I stepped out of our hasha, the darkness shot through me.  I yelled to BL that it was the darkest I had ever seen... she grabbed my hand, and we started running to the store.  Since it was dark, we could not see the puddles, but our feet found them without difficulty.  The splashes we made covered my clothes with water, but on we ran, trying to avoid the puddles with no luck.  Once inside the delgor, we bought out items, and left in the direction of home without haste.  We slowly tried to navigate the puddle minefield, our breathe held with anticipation.  We still found the puddles of course, and we covered the sounds of the splashes with our giggles.

Eventually we made it home, to walk through the hasha gate and find balto (formerly bartok) running up to greet us.  Like always, I greeted her by saying her name, only to have my sister call out, 'that's not balto.'  With the small amount of light shining from the house, I quickly pieced together the mongolian words with the different color dog running straight at me. The terror that I felt in that moment was expressed through a loud sound - an indistinguishable word caught between Mongolian and english - that echoed through the yard.  I pretended to pick up a rock from the ground in defense, and luckily the dog ran a different way, as I went running for the door. 

Meat, Milk, and a Tree – the unabridged version

The 11 of us Americans living in Xorollol put together a host family appreciation day for our host families.  When we told our families that we were going to have tea and cake for them, they decided to instead treat us to an outing to the mother tree, and have a xorxok. A xorxok is basically meat that is put in a pressure cooker, and hot hot stones are put in to cook it.  The mother tree is a religious site, I believe having to do with buddism, but considering I have no internet access, you are on your own to look this up for an explanation.   My host parents were away for the weekend, and so my host sister, BL, went with me.

We all piled into the different cars that we would take us out to the mother tree.  My sister hopped in a meeker, and I followed.  There were no seats in the back of the van, but there was a comfy bag that I got to sit on.  So spacious and nice it was in the back of the meeker for our 30 minute drive to the tree.  However, about 5 minutes after I sat down, I was told that I was not going to ride in the meeker, and so I had to get out and ride with Rose’s family in their small car. So as soon as I got out of the meeker, it left, and I went to Roses’s car…Her parents were in the front seats, and in the back, there were 5 of us to sit.  So as we all squeezed in, and Rose sat on my lap, we took off for the mother tree and all I could think about was how there was just so much room in that meeker.

Once we made it to the mother tree, we all climbed out of the clown car, and I met back up with BL.  She gave me a bag of rice and a candy, and we began throwing it around the grounds.  People were all around doing the same, some throwing milk, others throwing rice and other grains.  All around us were stacks and walls of tea bricks, and people were all around praying. It smelled of rotten milk and the ground was disgusting. Haddocs (blue mongolian respect scarves) were hung and strung everywhere.  Closer to a tree carcass on the ground, people were lying down and praying.  I was a little baffled, but BL grabbed me soon enough and pulled me to a pillar that was wrapped in scarves and drenched in milk and motioned that this was where I was supposed to stick my head into and pray.  “Dreams” she said, “you dream.” So like BL, I stuck my head into the scarves, and overcome by the smell of sour milk, I prayed for what I wanted. Now, I don’t know if this is like a wishing well where if you tell it wont come true or not, but just to be on the safe side, I will keep my wishful wantings between me and destiny.  When we were both done, we walked on and found the actual mother tree.  I was a little confused that if we were to pray, why we didn’t pray at the actual tree, but you know.  We lit some incense, which was quite a welcome smell compared to the spoiled milk, and we then threw some milk along with some more silent wishes as we left the grounds backwards.  Overall it was a pretty overwhelmingly weird experience, but I was glad to have had it, and share it with my host sister.  Soon enough we were all getting back into the cars, and I tried to sneak back into the spacious meeker van with my sister, but alas again, I was pulled away and pushed back into the clown car. 

The Xorxok – our host parents were laying out a nice spread- full of fruit and cakes and other dishes while the men tended to getting the meat cooking.  Us PCVs who were throwing this host family appreciation busied ourselves with volleyball and kite flying.  Soon, when the meat was cooking, we gathered with two cakes and vodka  (our gift to our host families), and presented them with nice things to say in broken Mongolian.  Then as the families sat down to enjoy the cake, we gathered around to eat the food put out…with the majority of us congregating around the fruit platter, due to the lack of fruit in our diets since the states.

We all ate, and then played some Mongol field games, such as piggy back horse races, wrestling, and a water balloon toss. After games were over, we were finally treated to the Xorxok- first by the hot hot stones.  We were told to pick up these outrageously hot stones, and the throw them around in our hands because it would give us good health. The rocks were of course covered in hot meat juice, which made the ritual all the more pleasurable (sarcasm).  One Mongolian instructed me to rub the hot rock on my face, because that was also really good for my body.  I politely declined to put the meat smelling rock on my face, and was met with only a small death glare.   When the meat finally was laid out, we all grabbed a piece of flesh with our bare hands and began chomping away.  It was the best meat I have had yet in Mongolia…very similar to grilled meat, but way more juicy.  So juicy in fact that meat juices dripped down our arms and off our elbows, making the meal even more satisfying.  On a side note, Mongolians don’t really believe in napkins.

Road Trip

We said goodbyes to our host family at the school, outside of the meekers that were to take us to Darkhan.  Our host families gave us treats for the road (handfuls and handfuls of dried cheese curd), and they walked around with a bowl of milk from which we were all to drink.  After we were all in the van, and milk had been carefully poured over the wheels of the vehicle to keep our journey safe, we set out to paved road…away from Xorollol, away from our families, away from food we didn’t like to eat.  And at a safe enough distance away, we through our handfuls of dried cheese curd out the window. 

Playing dress up

My family had once last chance to dress me up before I left for my permanent site…And that they did.  They bought me a dell, or traditional Mongol wear.  It was purple, and had princess sleeves. And luckily, it did not come with a chef’s hat to wear.

My host family

Leaving my host family was sad.  They were very welcoming, not only to me, but also to the friends that I made during training.  The swearing in ceremony was a week after I left in Darkhan, and my host family actually drove down for the event, which was touching in itself.  After the ceremony closed, my host sister ran down to the floor, nearly knocking me over with a hug, right before my host mom did the same. I got plenty of hugs, kisses and Mongol smells, as did my Xorollol friends.  Visiting time was rushed however, because the bus to the capitol was leaving, and we all had to be on it.  My family escorted us to the bus, and we all got on, waving goodbye with my host moms bright red lipstick smeared across all our faces. 

these are the kids that terrorized me my last day with my host family.  I have know idea who they are.

Ulaanbaator

UB is easily not one of my favorite places in the places in the world, and I am glad I do not have to be here more than a week.  Since UB is the main transportation hub, most volunteers leave from the city to go to their permanent sites. We were put u in a dormitory, in what i was told as to not be the best part of the city, but the beds were comfortable, and there was sort of a rusty red water cold shower available...it was …quiant.  Well, everyone left to go to their sites at different times, with the last person leaving on Tuesday...leaving me in these scary dorms by myself until Friday.  Another PCV stuck in UB because of a safety and security issue in his city was nice enough to give up the choice of a hostel to stay with me so i wouldn’t be alone.  When the country director found out about our living arrangements, she had us moved into a hostel within a couple hours.  It was great. Not only was there a hot shower that I had not experienced since leaving the states, there was wifi. Luxury.

Anyway, UB is a place that has such a different culture than the rest of the country.  For example, I saw a Mongol lady walking down the street...walking a dog.  On a leash!  how absurd!  At least i thought it was absurd, until I saw another Mongolian come up, and pet the dog! Then things just became utterly crazy.

a dog on a leash?!?

the T-baator in UB

I also got to randomly meet the ambassador, and take the awkward photo.

But, now, without futher adu, let me tell you about Bayankhongor, my new home...

Bayankhongor

BX is the capitol of the Mongol Province, Bayankhonger.

BX not only has mountains (a 360 degree view of mountains, I might add), rivers (3), green land, desert, and steepe, it also has DINOSAURS!!!!!!!!

I will be living in a ger, and as if that is not awesome enough, my ger is on a mountain.

Ger logistics

My ger is a four wall ger, meaning that it has four sections of felt walls that will wrap around to insulate it. 

Yes, in fact, there is no running water in my ger.

For the winter I will be burning wood and coal.  Not that many trees grow in southen Mongolia, so I wont have a lot of wood, but they do mine coal in the south, so my ger will be getting a bit suit-y.

I have a hasha family.  This is not like a host family, but rather it is the family that owns the yard that I live in.  They live in their ger, I rent out one of the other two gers in the yard, and I share an outhouse with them.  An outhouse without a door might I add.  That's going to be chilly in the winter...

There are a lot of superstitions and traditions that come with living in a ger...for example, whistling will bring snakes and witches to my ger..  also, tripping into a ger is good luck...viewed as if you were carrying riches into your ger that you didnt see the step, and have all the riches into your house.  Tripping out if the ger is the opposite...bad luck...seen as if you are leaving in haste while running from your enemies.  So if one trips out, one must re-enter, and put another log on the fire, to prove that you weren't really leaving the first time. 

Coming up next:

Tales from Bayankhongor and my ger.  Spoiler alert:  there are spiders.