Checkity check yoself.

May 16, 2016

I feel it's prudent to point to the disclaimer stage right ------------------------------------->
before beginning this entry, as it contains some of my opinions on Mongolian culture. I don't think they're particularly controversial; more observations than opinions, but I understand how I and others might conflate the two. So remember: these are my opinions, not necessarily those of the Peace Corps or any affiliated agency.

Time flies when you're alive. For the most part.

That's not to say we haven't had any fun. To begin, this weekend I played judge in a speech and debate competition (Emily helped students prepare, and so could not fairly judge them). The younger students did speeches, and I really liked the judgment mechanism; students were given ten topics to prepare for ahead of time, then when the day of the competition came, they competed as teams, each drawing a topic from the original ten. They were given one minute to prepare, two minutes to speak, and then another minute or so to answer one or two questions about their speech. Some students locked up in fear; can't say I blame them, as I am very intimidating. Most did very well, despite my looming presence; piercing, icy stare; and pointed; incisive questions.

The debate competition also went swimmingly; similarly, the students were given the topic weeks beforehand, and asked to prepare arguments both for and against three statements in the general topics of economics, environment, and gender issues. The students did their research and wrote their opening and closing statements; it all went very well.

I learned a lot, I think, about Mongolian culture or at least the Mongolian mindset from judging these speeches and debates, mostly the debate. To wit: we created hypothetical scenarios to give a specific topic for the students to debate. For the environmental, we posited a scenario in which the government of Mongolia mandated that all Mongolians in the capital city Ulaanbaatar (one of the most polluted cities in the world) must move from gers, the traditional home of Mongolians since before recorded history, to apartments. The important thing to know here is that throughout the very long, very cold Mongolian winter, most Mongolians burn coal in their stoves to keep their gers warm and cook meals and whatnot. There are some 180,000 gers in the capital ger districts, and coal pretty much has to burn all day every day. The coal obviously creates a lot of problems in terms of smog and particulates, which then gets swept from the ger districts into the city proper by the constant winds of Mongolia.

Many good, relevant arguments were made; the pro side (supporting the movement) cited air pollution and health effects, space concerns, provided relevant statistics, things like that. The negative side was mostly focused on culture and the fact that it isn't gers that cause pollution but rather the coal and the inefficient stoves used, and the cost involved in moving and differences in lifestyle after the move. (Students provided a lot of other arguments, I'm just not going to list them here. Please remember this is a hypothetical intended to start debate among the students -- there's no need to tell me how right or wrong the policy is.) But one argument that was not made was about the act of actually forcing people to move from the ger districts into apartments. What do you do about people who refuse to leave?

Can you imagine having this debate in the States (you must move from your home so that we can reduce harmful air-pollution) without immediate cries of government overreach? Now, to be fair, it could just be that the students wanted to focus on the environmental aspects, but other parts of the debate strayed into areas unrelated to the environment – cost, the loss of community by being forced into apartments, disconnect from nature and the practical skills living in a ger teaches you, and the overall safety of apartments versus ger communities. I think, rather, that it's just part of the culture to be more accepting or trusting of authority. Or perhaps it's that Americans (myself included) are so over-the-top in our suspicion of authority. I don't know what to make of it, or how to respond to it; Mongolian culture has been around a lot, lot longer than American. 

Oh! And the gender debate. The debate focused on labor law; mothers with newborn children get up to four months of paid maternity leave at 70% of their income, but fathers only get seven days. Further, women may retire at age 55, whereas men cannot until 60. The hypothetical we posed in this case was that, in so many words, there should be no distinction between the sexes in labor law – no extra leave, no difference in retirement age, etc. The arguments here were what you'd expect; emphasizing physiological differences on the side arguing against that notion, emphasizing respect and humanity on the other.

Yet buried in the debate on both sides were assumptions about the role of men and women in the home and society in general. The pro side (no distinction in labor law) actually agreed at one point that women should be allowed to retire earlier because they are more worn out (the word the students used was 'stressed') from maintaining the house and raising the children. First is the assumption that all women will be married and have children, something which is so ingrained in Mongolian culture that I don't know how we missed it when forming the question. Second is the assumption that women must take care of the children and the house in addition to their jobs, and that men just work to “bring home the bacon”. No one in these debates noted that, on average, women earn more than men in Mongolia. Nor did anyone suggest that housework and child-rearing should be a shared responsibility.

I say these things not with any intent to judge Mongolia's ethical fiber, nor to cast aspersions on their way of life and doing things. Even in the States, the idea of a “stay-at-home Dad” is still somewhat offensive to our sensibilities and assumptions about what men and women should and shouldn't do. Rather, I invite those reading – from the States especially – to consider their own worldview(s), and to ask themselves how they were arrived at, and what the underlying assumptions implicit in those views might be.

And in the same way that I don't mean to judge the Mongolian perspective, I don't seek to judge American or other assumptions with this request, either. Rather, it's more that I noticed in myself that I had these assumptions, and when I witnessed a debate that completely excluded my assumptions, I was forced to ask why. I've found the exercise so far to be interesting, to say the least; it's like housekeeping for your belief system, a thing I firmly believe everyone should do as often as they can stand it.

Anyway, in other news: school is about finished, and the summer looms. Not that you'd be able to guess it by the weather, which is still in a highly volatile state; it was warm and sunny enough this morning to walk to school without a jacket, but a few hours later sees strong winds, cloudy skies, and much lower temperatures. Yesterday, Emily and I walked out to a friend's ger to see some newborn animals, specially a week-old goat which was adorable (like a cross between a dog and a cat), and a day-old calf that hadn't quite figured out how to moo. Oh, and the calf peed on Emily. It was funny. 

One last thing, since I've emphasized my disclaimer: I absolutely hate the way Mongolians knock on doors. It's a cultural thing; apartments are still relatively new to Mongolia, and in the past people could come and go from each other's gers with relative impunity in a very communal culture -- no locked doors. Now, apartments have closed, locked doors. So, if a Mongolian comes to knock on your door, expect not a "knock knock knock" to get your attention with a possible follow-up if you don't answer,  but a "knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock." Pause. "knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock." And this is not an exaggeration. It's infuriating. It's one aspect of Mongolian culture that will annoy me until the day my service ends. I WILL ANSWER THE DOOR WHEN I AM READY!