Picture dump

November 19, 2016

So the most interesting thing that's happened recently is the election, and I won't talk about that for two reasons: this isn't the place, and a lot of people are sick of hearing about it. 

That said, there's not a whole lot more that's been going on; some work, some clubs, some projects. There's been a cold front that's moved in (set to leave by Tuesday of this coming week) that dropped temperatures into the -20 to -30 C range, which is interesting in a way because it's colder than it usually would be in November, but this range doesn't really impress me anymore. And yes, this is a preview of how insufferable I will be when y'all whine about being cold when it hits 40. 

I took some pictures, though, so it's not all for nothing. 

Near Red Mountain, looking northwestish. 

Emily and our friend Ari at the top of Red Mountain

I couldn't feel my face and I don't think Emily could either, so if our smiles look odd, that's why. Not at all because we're secretly lizard people. 

On top of Red Mountain.

Looking northwestish.

Looking away from Ulaangom, into the countryside. 

Emily and I crammed with three other people in the back of a Prius. 

The sun doesn't set so much as explode some days. 

CASH MONEY KITTY

My birthday party! Hooray!

He's a cute cat. 

That's Red Mountain to the left, there. It's about a two miles from our apartment. 

I took the two above pictures without knowing that the one below would also happen, but lo and behold, it happened. Welcome to life in the cloud. 

Overdue update

Sn bn uu?
(Means "how's things?")

This update is certainly overdue, as the title suggests. Lest the post be greeted with undue enthusiasm, I should warn you: the boundary between writing for pleasure and writing for an audience has been blurred of late. I've been reading through (at my dad's recommendation) the Wheel of Time series and am currently finishing up book five (of, I think, 15), so that's been coloring my vernacular. Also a bunch of books to prep for the Foreign Service Officer Test (FSOT).

That's the starting point, I think: one of the more likely futures that Emily and I have discussed after Peace Corps has been a career working in the Foreign Service, and diplomacy more generally. The test itself is apparently extremely difficult, and even though we won't take it until February, we've been preparing. I think that I can, for example, label every country on the world map (though I'll be damned if I can recognize flags). We can also converse in an educated way on the past 500 years of world development, and one of the books I'm reading is giving me deep insight into US foreign policy since WWII, fascinating in its own right.

The above paragraph sort of speaks for itself in terms of what we've been doing since the last update, at least partially, in that the latter part of the summer represented a lull, which we filled with studying. It was a bit of a slog, to be honest, but now that school is back in session (and has been since Sept 1), we've got more interesting things to report.

First and foremost: school is back. There's an adage about the chaos of the beginning of the year, I'm sure, but because I can't remember it, you'll have to make it up yourself. Schedules changing weekly, students coming and going as their schedules change, figuring out the mindset of the students you're advising, using that "secret information" to tune your classes, not to mention keeping your personal and social lives in order. As an example of the last point, Emily and I have played host to at least six different houseguests in the past month alone: two couch surfers making their way to Germany (from here! by hitchhiking!), two PCVs (shorthand for volunteers) visiting from the east of the country as we all headed out to Eagle Fest, and two other PCVs who live in our aimag (state) who were visiting for the weekend, and at least another six who visited during the day. It's been like running a bed and breakfast at certain points. That's not complaining, by the way, just observation; running a BnB is one of Em's and my retirement plans.

Though I'd love to share the vision we have for that BnB,  I figure many of you reading this perked up at the mention of Eagle Fest. It was in Bayan Olgiy, the westernmost aimag in the country, and which is populated mostly by Kazakh Mongolians. The aimag itself was gorgeous -- the drive out, for instance, went something like this: driving through a valley between two mountains and next to a river and filled with trees that were brilliant orange on both sides of the river, then climbing out of the valley and into the vastness of the steppe, represented by the peaks of mountains on all sides and given depth by the snow-covered peaks behind them. Add to that the hugeness rendered by the unbelievable distances in all directions, and you've got a lot of time for contemplation. AND, in the city, they had a coffee shop. A coffee shop! Unbelievable.

The festival itself was more of an exhibition than a festival, with eagle hunters competing for various prizes including best-dressed, who could get their eagle to come the farthest when they called, and who could get their eagle to land most precisely in a targeted area. The day was mostly cloudy with a strong, strong wind coming in over the mountains that framed the whole thing. Or perhaps I should say this: on one side were the mountains, on the other side was a wide open vista that looked something like this:



After we got back, the school schedule resumed. In between now and then, we've tried more to get our schedules set and get our clubs started, the fabled Dr. E came to visit us and give us flu shots, and we had our teacher's day celebration. Below are some pictures of that stuff. We've been anxiously (until recently) watching the US election cycle in the meantime, and I've been getting way too hyped for the coming year of college basketball. The cat is healthy and happy, as are we.

I'm simplifying quite a lot, here, but honestly, there's not too much to tell other than what I've mentioned above. Life in Mongolia is no longer as foreign as it was before, and our successes are beginning to outweigh our frustrations as we get into the meat of our second year.

Regardless, we miss our friends and family back home as much as ever. Drop us a line, or find us on Skype. In the meantime, pictures:

 
Picture from the road to kind of give you a feel for where we were.

Much the same.

Look how effing big it is!

The sky constantly blows my mind out here.

It's like driving through... I don't even know. Cloud city, but not the one from Star Wars.

A lake we passed on the way. A younger Mongolian kid was sitting in the front seat, and he seemed disinterested. We said, "Isn't this beautiful?", to which he responded, "I've seen it a hundred times."

Teacher's day blurriness.

SUPER SERIOUS

MONGOL STEEL

The fog came in very, very thickly one day this past week. There's a mountain there, barely a mile away. Super claustrophobic.

There's the mountain to the left, and some recently-snow-covered ones to the right. Winter approacheth -- the temperatures have dropped into the low 40s for the high. As of Sunday, we'll be hovering right at freezing. Or so I'm told.

An Overdue Report of the Summer

August 18, 2016

Hello all! Apologies for the delay between this and the last post; to make a long story short (and long again, later), Em and I lost internet access for the month of July due to a move, and only recently got it back. Honestly, though, I don't know what I could tell you about's happened between now and then, but here's some stuff: 

First, yes. We moved to a much nicer apartment. The old one we were in had some seriously jankey wiring that was at times quite frightening, and some infuriating plumbing problems. The new apartment has its issues, I suppose, but they're small potatoes. The old one had earned (at least from me) the moniker "The Catacombs": while it was a two-bedroom apartment, it was extremely segmented, and had no south-facing windows. The only sun we got was late in the day through two windows that faced the street (the bedrooms), and then only for an hour or two before the sun slid behind the apartment building across the street from us. The biggest room was pretty much constantly in a state of dusky gloom, and the hallway that connected the kitchen to... well, to another hallway was always dark. 

This new apartment, though, has a wall that is basically all windows from about waist-height on up, and that in the main room. The main room is very open in its own right, and includes space for a TV, a couch, a table that can seat up to six comfortably, and the kitchen. This apartment is also officially two bedrooms, though it was originally constructed with one large bedroom. The owners put up an interior wall to divide it, which gives me (Eric) a darker room to put my computer in, which I like. There's pretty good airflow -- though the old apartment was admittedly better in that regard, as it had windows on opposite walls -- and two balconies large enough to fit several people on. 

In any case, we like it here. A lot more light, a much better view, closer to our colleagues, wiring that isn't scary, and cleaner and better-functioning pipes. 

Shortly after we moved, Emily's family came to visit. Or maybe more accurately, we went to visit them in UB, then after a week they came to visit us in Ulaangom. Though there was some... concern over the lack of internet access, I think I can safely say that a good time was had by all. While in UB we saw the sights and ate at a lot of good restaurants including what might now be my favorite Indian restaurant in the world (limited though my experience is), crammed ourselves into taxis to avoid being run down by the occasionally-insane UB drivers, and even got (what I thought was) a really good massage. It was a welcome respite from the "realities" of living in Mongolia, not least because Grace, Lou, and Natalie were willing to indulge us in so many ways to help us wash some of the stress away. Back here in Ulaangom we took it a lot easier, but still had a good time. We tried out the local beer garden (which is now, unbelievably, closed for the year), ate at a few local restaurants, shopped at the market (described in an entry from last year), visited two of the closest lakes, and had a few picnics in the countryside. Hell, they even got to experience a bit of Mongolian chaos when the mikr (microbus) we were taking to one of the lakes nearly broke down and had to be serviced while we waited at what amounts to a Mongolian convenience store in a smaller soum (village) on the road. 

That soum, incidentally, is now occupied by one of the newest additions to the Uvs PCV family. Three newly-sworn-in volunteers joined us this past Sunday, one in Ulaangom, one in the soum mentioned above, and one much further south. I'll refrain from using names as that's just not my prerogative, but suffice it to say we're quite pleased to welcome them in, and are looking forward to becoming good friends and working partners over the next year. 

That's another thing worth mentioning, I suppose: one way or another (i.e., even if we get the last departure date), Em and I have less than 12 months before we come home. So... yeah. Cooooool. 

Speaking of cool, it's basically autumn now. One of my friends here mentioned that, according to the lunar calendar, autumn began in early August. It's definitely cooled down; right around Emily's birthday the rains started coming in, and almost every day since it's rained at least a little, and has been getting just slightly cooler. In fact, about a week and a half ago we experienced a truly awesome storm that I've struggled to describe. You know how thunder rumbles, coming and going like waves? Well, this time it didn't go anywhere, it just constantly rumbled, like someone was ceaselessly rattling a big piece of solid metal. What's more, that thunder preceded the storm's arrival, so we were able to stand on the balcony listening to this, wondering if it was an alien invasion or something (it seriously sounded like it might have been the engines of an alien mothership). Then, the rain started; then it intensified to the point where we couldn't see the building across the street; then the hail came -- about pea-sized, maybe a bit bigger. The entire time the wind was blowing harder than it has since we've been in Mongolia; it tore up a lot of gers, ripped some wires and cables loose on our apartment's roof, and destroyed some fences. The hail actually managed to completely fill our balcony, and created large piles all over the place, like blown snow. When it was over, the garages at the bases of the various apartment buildings were all flooded about knee-high. 

I know that's nothing compared to what's going on in places like Houston and, more recently, Louisiana, but it was still pretty amazing. I imagine (and scientists in the field predict) that more and more of these kinds of extreme weather events are going to happen as the planet warms. Given that 2015 was the warmest year on record, and every month this year has been even hotter than that (including this July, the hottest month ever recorded), who knows what this winter will bring? 

In unrelated news, one of our close friends finished her two years with KOICA (the simplest analogy is to call it the Korean Peace Corps) and left, two days after that storm actually. Apart from being a good friend, she had also been absolutely invaluable in helping us to settle in here in terms of finding things we needed and getting work done. We're sad to see her go, but intend to bother her a lot in the future. 

Uhhh... what else happened? Emily is (literally as I write this) conducting her girl's camp, and though it definitely didn't go the way she had originally planned, it seems to be a resounding success thus far. Em and I also celebrated our two-year anniversary this past Tuesday (the 16th), and will do so again in UB when we have a little free time. We'll raise a toast to you at home if you'll raise one to us! We might lose internet again relatively soon, but we think we've found a good replacement that we should have up and running by the end of the month. Emily found a squash as big as my arm the other day -- grown in Mongolia, no less. The cat is doing fine as always, though we're agonizing about how to get him home when the time comes (because he's absolutely coming with us). We've begun studying for the Foreign Service Officer exam, and I'm working on getting my Spanish back up to par. Lotta down time, recently, so I may as well use it wisely, yeah? 

That seems enough, I guess. Here's some pictures without context: 

Updates 'n' pictures

July 24, 2016

Quick one, here, at least in terms of words. We've done a lot of traveling over the past two weeks, including a 22-hour bus ride to what turned out to be a mostly abortive attempt at a day camp, then a 22-hour bus ride back home, followed two days later by a trip to a nearby lake, Uureg Nuur (Nuur means lake). Had a lot of fun on both adventures, and we're looking forward to seeing friends and family very soon, but in the meantime, here's some pictures.

Taken while we waited for another car to catch up to us on our way to the lake. Looking east. 

Looking west.

 Looking south. 

The storm eventually did catch up to us; this is what it looked like nearer to the lake.

This was much later in the day, closer to sunset. I tried to get the clouds as much as possible because they looked like something out of a painting, brushstrokes and all. Alas alas alas, we were in a car, and most pictures came out blurry. 

My CP's family's ger. One of them, anyway.  

A mountain near that ger. 

As we left the ger pictured above to see some of my CP's family. DOUBLE RAINBOOOOOOOOW. The end is so damned close we thought it might be worth it to check for a pot of gold.

Some of my CP's family -- they were really amused that we wanted to take pictures of them shearing sheep.

Our picnic site near the lake.

Looking left from our picnic site. Look at how effing blue the water is!
It was crystal clear, unbelievably cold, and slightly salty.

To the right. Storms threatened most of the time we were there, but we thankfully made it through the day without being rained on.

Pensive Emily. 

A small portion of Paul's soum

                                     

                                                 Sitting by the river in Paul's soum

That same river the next day, after a looooot of rain. 

Our dog posse in Paul's soum. They followed us everywhere we went. 

Tomato, rudely awoken.

Tomato complaining loudly at the thing that awakened him.

Also, the UK left the EU. What the... what? What's going on out there?!

One year down

June 1, 2016

I'm considering today our official one-year anniversary of arriving in Mongolia. June 1 2015 was the day we ended up in Darkhan (I think), which is really the first day of actually being part of Mongolia. Prior to that, I was an enthusiastic tourist with long-term plans. We arrived and were immediately shuttered to a hotel on the outskirts of UB which was nestled in the embrace of gentle hills covered in trees; currently, I live within view of an honest-to-god mountain that still has snow on it (from about two weeks ago), and there isn't a single tree visible from my apartment windows. (We recently learned that some enlightened individual went around the city and cut down all of the trees within the city proper in 1991.) As I've joked with some people I've talked to on Skype, there are about three or four trees in this city, and I know where all of them are. I should say: it's a joke because it's funny, but also because it's not a joke at all.

Anyway, it being our one-year anniversary, I thought it appropriate to reflect in a larger sense. This blog has been filled with reflections, I admit, but usually they are short-term, based on something that happened to me or to Emily or to both of us. I've found this a useful way to both fill you in on what we're doing, and how we're doing. It'd be dishonest and a disservice to only report on the things that we're doing and leave out the emotional responses; that's not what it's like being here, and it's not what it's like being a human being. Besides, those of you who know me best know that I react to everything and consequently have something to say about the aforementioned everything.

First, the things I've learned about myself (don't worry, Emily will do her own bit). I should set you up: these next paragraphs are all new points, so the transition will be a little jarring. This is a blog, not a novella.

I am every bit as cynical as I used to be. I won't go on at length about my worldview, but maybe it will suffice to say this: the insulation that PST (our initial training period) provided from the real world was, in a lot of ways, unhelpfully unrealistic, and set us up to fail for our first year of service. Expectations were set that we'd be working with the same kind of people and in the same sort of system in PST when we got to site. That was not the case. You'd think I'd be able to remember what the real world is like, but somehow the shine on the Peace Corps and the work that they/we do blinded me enough that I somehow forgot. That and my time in graduate school immediately prior probably set me up for a bigger shock than I was prepared for.

I also learned/remembered (unironically) that I am extremely forgetful at times, and prone to misplacing things. My poor mother and my long-suffering wife are all-too familiar with this (especially when I was growing up), but to the uninitiated, consider this: since we've been here, I've lost three phones (including two smart phones), one pair of sunglasses, several socks, at least one book, a few decks of cards, and, unless I've gone insane and am remembering having brought something I totally didn't, most of my summer clothes. I also somehow forgot to bring half of the cards we needed to play Catan with me from the States (the makers kindly mailed us replacements for free!). It's a daily struggle to find either my keys, my wallet, my phone, and/or my ring. I often forget one or the other and only realize when I'm halfway to wherever I'm going. I've also tried to leave the apartment in slippers on several occasions.

I rely heavily on the spoken and written word to communicate and connect with people. Actions speak louder than words? That may be so, but words speak pretty loudly in their own right, and often are the catalyst for the oh-so-loud action. No matter how good I get with grammar and vocabulary in Mongolian, I still have a lot of trouble understanding people when they speak. That's infuriating and limiting.

I like to teach. Frustrations with the systems in place aside (systems, like standardized testing, which are not at all unique to Mongolia), engaging with students and getting them interested (often against their will) is a genuinely rewarding experience. I hope I can do more of it in the future.

There were also assumptions I had made about the way the world works that I continually learn were incredibly short-sighted. Instead of going in to detail, I'll just say this: the vast majority of everyone on the planet is just trying to survive without screwing up too badly. That said, the exceptions, who believe that they are exceptional because of their boldness, are really just the people most willing to screw over other people. So, yes. Cynicism level 9, over here. That's not likely to change.

As difficult as the winter was for its many physical challenges, the summer has been, in its own way, more difficult. A recent discussion with a friend from another aimag (that's a state or province, if you forgot) got me thinking about it from a different perspective. In the winter, I had very little choice but to remain inside with the windows shut, shivering next to the radiator. Now that it's legitimately summer, I desperately want to go outside and do stuff. The summers we spent in Lawrence were legitimately the most fun I've had since I was about 12 – even on slow days I'd still probably get together with a friend and go frisbee golfing, or I could grab my bike and ride a trail, or go grab a drink or a bite to eat and sit outside in the shade of a tree (I miss trees), or go on a hike and listen to the sound of the wind in the trees (I MISS TREES), or drive out to the lake and spend a night or two with friends, or invite people over to play DnD or Catan or even just Super Monkeyball... I can do, quite literally, none of those things here, even though I have the same amount of free time. I could probably go for a hike, if I could find somewhere to do it and someone to get me there; it's not as if there are trails all over the place, or even large parks (a la Clinton Lake or Big Bone) we could go to. A friend of mine from back in Kansas just went on a bike trip called Peddler's Jamboree – though it poured rain for a good part of our trip when Emily and I went, I'd have given a lot to go with him this time.

Granted, we have a lot of things planned for the summer, including meeting up with that aforementioned friend for a camp in his soum (village), a trip to a lake with some Mongolian friends, and meeting with Emily's family a little later on, not to mention a surprise visit from a friend from back home. I'm excited for all of those things; irrationally excited, maybe. But right now? Stir craziness is even worse than it was in February.

I've also learned that the phrase “When in Rome, do as the Romans do” means more than just “act like they do”. In some ways, it means “think like they do”. My point above about short-sighted assumptions plays into this; just because America does it a certain way doesn't mean Mongolians do it that way, and expecting everyone to change to meet my way of doing things is only going to make me frustrated and alienated. And it's not enough just to “tolerate” the way Mongolians do things, at least not for a two-year stretch.

There are perils in that, of course, and that leads to another realization I've had: we Americans are every bit as hardworking as we think we are. Maybe even too hardworking, to the point of putting work ahead of our happiness, both collectively and individually. I think this is a very interesting discussion to be had, but as it's also a very long one, I don't want to get into it here (WSP, Matt?).

That's probably enough, yeah? I'll leave off here. Long story short: I learned a lot of things about myself.

Emily says: 

One whole year in Mongolia down. I'm very glad we didn't give up, but, as Eric has mentioned before, at times it has been very rough. I don't want to talk about how tough.

So, instead I'll talk about my main bright spot: our cat Tomato. Tomato is hands-down the best living cat. He is smart, adventurous, and cuddly. He likes to go hunt outside at night and every morning he is waiting outside our 3^rd floor door for breakfast and a safe place to sleep the day away. When he does stay inside at night he likes to sleep between our heads and purr incessantly. Recently, I started putting him around my shoulders. He likes it because he can see more things from up higher, no matter what Eric tells you. He loves to be loved, and is a source of comfort not only to us but also to our various site mates. But the most amazing thing about Tomato is that he answers to a whistle, even from the third floor balcony. I'm not great at whistling, but, luckily, Tomato also answers to his name. He makes me happy every day and I'll always be glad that we came here because of him.

I've been feeling a bit down lately, mostly for the reasons Eric details above. I'm looking forward to relaxing this summer and, hopefully, revamping for next school year. I know I haven't written a lot, but that's all I've got for you right now. I really miss all of our family and friends, trees, and the amount of comfort I took for granted in my surroundings at home. See you all in about a year.

Thanks for reading. 

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!