Sorry for the absence and irregularity of postings. Nothing new really from this side of the world. The weather is still cold, but surprisingly we have had sun shine and a lack of winds for the last 2 or 3 weeks. We have passed the coldest part of the Mongolian winter and much to my delight, it was not nearly as devastating as I thought it would be. The snow is beginning to melt, and I'm not falling on my ass every time I walk on dangerously un-shoveled ice.
Work is good as usual. Social life is good. I'm happy... And now, a list of things of interest because I'm too lazy to write coherent and thoughtful sentences anymore.
- 1 Week off in January: Elaine (Sukhbaatar PCV) and Lindsay came to the aimag. We ate out, cooked, watched innumerable episodes of "The Office." Good times!
- Teacher's Day: a 2 or 3 day celebration where students get to play the role of teacher, director, or administrator of the school and culminates in yet another drunken party (without the students).
- Life Skills Seminar: Alex and Travis (Sukhbaatar PCVs) came to Dornod with health specialists from PC. Had a seminar, took them out to get pizza and goboroo! In return, I got 110+ gigabytes of movies and tv shows! Life is sweet.
- Access: I've been administering an aimag-wide test for 8th graders that wants to join an exclusive English class that is taught by PCVs and Mongolian teachers at our aimag library. Started with 83 applications. Picked out the best 40 students judging by their grades, personal statement, and reccomendation. 40 students take a test, best 20 then goes on to an oral exam. Then from the 20, we pick 10 based on their test scores and financial burden.
Mongolia Observations:
- Mongolian made boots are really warm! best 40,000T that I've spent thus far.
- Mongolian students go to school on Saturdays. Why you ask? Extra classes, meet up with friends, what else is there to do?
- Mongolians love medals and certificates. Maybe a remnant of Soviet influence, but every formal event has a portion that is dedicated to the handing out of medals and awards.
- Mongolians love 80s and 90s music. Examples; Last Christmas, anything ABBA, Westlife... the list goes on.
- When gum is not being chewed, it is put into ears as a reserve for another time.
- Makeup is not only for girls.
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Monday, February 9, 2009
Sunday, January 4, 2009
Shin Jiliin Bayariin Mend Hurgeye
Shin Jil: (noun) - A week long celebration in Mongolia that gives joy to all the tinsel manufacturers, vodka distillers, and George Michael's record company.
Car Trouble:
My Shin Jil (New Year) actually began the weekend before the appointed date. It was on a Saturday and boy was it a trip getting to the restaurant. After the school concert that featured a clown as an MC, Grandfather Winter and his Snow Girl, and a troupe of kindergartners dressed in panda, lion, and bear costumes, the teachers and I headed for the mikro (bus). At first there were 6 or 7 of us that were in the bus, which in a vehicle that is designed to fit 15 or 16 people is quite the luxury. As time passed, more and more teachers came, first a group of 3, and then 1 or 2 came to comfortably fill the seats. The engine started so I thought that we were making our way for the restaurant, boy was I wrong. For the next 30 or so minutes we drove from one apartment to the next picking up other groups of teachers. So they came and sat in 3s and 4s. Now there are at least 20 teachers meshed together and under the dreadfully cold circumstances it made for a much more toasty ride. After picking the teachers from the apartments and their homes, we should be on our way right? No, no, no… There are of course teachers still waiting at the school. We drove to the school, 1 teacher filed in, and then another, and another, and another. To make room, the four men in the back row each had a female teacher on his lap, me included. The other seats probably had to do the same in order to make room for all the teachers. So after all of this we finally made our way, driving along the bumpy, icy, and quite dangerous dirt road. When we made it to the paved road, the bus under tons of pressure gave way and broke down, which was no surprise to anybody there. We filed out of the bus one by one, and when I did a head count, there were 30+ people in the mikro, which is my personal record now. To complete the journey, we called for taxis and in a flash we were at the restaurant.
The school party was at a Chinese restaurant that was decked out with a Christmas tree (they don’t celebrate Christmas here), tinsel strands that are individually taped on to the ceilings, and booming renditions of “Last Christmas.” On the tables waiting for us were fruit bowls, salads, and bottles of vodka and juice to quench our thirst. Throughout the night we ate well, sang Mongolian songs, made speeches, presented gifts, and danced the night away. More bottles of vodka came out the woodwork as the night progressed, and like the vodka, the champagne was also flowing well that night. The party ended at 12 and we made our way back to our town. Once there, a group of teachers wanted to extend the party longer, they asked me to stay but as I was sick, my excuse worked and I was able to dodge a very dangerous bullet.
New Year with a Mongolian Family:
On the actual New Year’s Eve, I celebrated the night with Tumee (my teaching counterpart) and her family. She invited me over for hooshor, my favorite Mongolian dish. At that time I didn’t even realize that it was the day before the New Year. I brought over some beer, soda, and borsik (Mongolian sweet bread.) We ate, drank, and talked until 11:45 when the fireworks began bursting in the air. From our town, which is 7 kilometers away from the Aimag center, we saw the sky lit up with yellow, red, blue, and a variety of other colors and shapes. We also had our store of fireworks, so we joined in the celebration and lit the dark sky with a myriad of colors. After the pyrotechnics, we came back in for a typical Mongolian New Year celebration meal; buuz (steamed dumplings), cake, and champagne. It was a good end to a good night.
PCV and VSO parties:
The next day I went to the Aimag center to celebrate the New Year with PCVs, VSOs and a group of Mongolians. All of us were invited to Raj’s house, a health VSO member from India. The bachelor pad was bumping with music, and we celebrated once more with beer, vodka, champagne, and chocolate. Everybody had a great time, so much that we decided to do it again the next day at Jim and Julie’s house.
Jim and Julie had a beast of fish (at least 15lbs) that they didn’t know what to do with. That day I was staying over their place so I became the third host of the party. While J&J was away on errands, Julie had me bake apple bread. It was my first time baking, yikes! Julie knew this, so of course she left me unsupervised with a recipe book and all the ingredients for me to play around with. I peeled and then diced the apples, mixed the sugar, oil, lemon juice and all the other necessary items. Then I carefully poured out the flour, salt, and added 4 tbsp of baking powder in another bowl. If you are a baker, you would have caught my mistake already… yes, 4 tbsp of baking powder, ahahah. I thought that the tbsp scooper was the tsp, honest mistake since the damn thing was labeled. Luckily I hadn’t mixed and was able to scoop out the extra baking powder. Then I added the three mixes together and baked, desperately hoping that it wasn’t ruin by the mistake.
While the apple bread was in the oven, Jim and I worked on the ginormous fish. Jim gutted the beast and we decided to cut it into four portions. Each part would be seasoned differently. One of Jim’s two pieces was dedicated to curry fish, the other one was doused in butter and garlic, lemon juice and assortment of Italian spices. As for my part, I had one piece in a mixture of olive oil, salt, garlic salt, vegetable flakes, some Italian seasoning. After we took out the apple bread which was still un-tasted, we broiled the 3 portions. The last piece was left to the frying pan and with a little salt, garlic butter, and oil it was fried to perfection. While doing all of this, we were also preparing mashed potatoes and vegetables as a side, Jim the main chef, and I his sous chef. As the guests began to arrive we finished up the preparations and had them test out our experiment. They tasted, marveled, and then had seconds, thirds, and fourths. Tremendous triumph! Considering that this was the first time that we handled fish. Though Jim’s test was over, my apple bread was still under review. After gorging on fish and wine, the crowd moved on to dessert. Judy, another health VSO member was the first one to try my apple bread. She cut herself a piece; put it in her mouth, and from watching the expression on her face, 2 for 2! Twas a success. Not bad for a day of firsts. As the night rolled along, Julie got out her guitar and played for us. We sang, we drank, we had a good time! One of my favorite nights in Mongolia thus far.
-
Car Trouble:
My Shin Jil (New Year) actually began the weekend before the appointed date. It was on a Saturday and boy was it a trip getting to the restaurant. After the school concert that featured a clown as an MC, Grandfather Winter and his Snow Girl, and a troupe of kindergartners dressed in panda, lion, and bear costumes, the teachers and I headed for the mikro (bus). At first there were 6 or 7 of us that were in the bus, which in a vehicle that is designed to fit 15 or 16 people is quite the luxury. As time passed, more and more teachers came, first a group of 3, and then 1 or 2 came to comfortably fill the seats. The engine started so I thought that we were making our way for the restaurant, boy was I wrong. For the next 30 or so minutes we drove from one apartment to the next picking up other groups of teachers. So they came and sat in 3s and 4s. Now there are at least 20 teachers meshed together and under the dreadfully cold circumstances it made for a much more toasty ride. After picking the teachers from the apartments and their homes, we should be on our way right? No, no, no… There are of course teachers still waiting at the school. We drove to the school, 1 teacher filed in, and then another, and another, and another. To make room, the four men in the back row each had a female teacher on his lap, me included. The other seats probably had to do the same in order to make room for all the teachers. So after all of this we finally made our way, driving along the bumpy, icy, and quite dangerous dirt road. When we made it to the paved road, the bus under tons of pressure gave way and broke down, which was no surprise to anybody there. We filed out of the bus one by one, and when I did a head count, there were 30+ people in the mikro, which is my personal record now. To complete the journey, we called for taxis and in a flash we were at the restaurant.
The school party was at a Chinese restaurant that was decked out with a Christmas tree (they don’t celebrate Christmas here), tinsel strands that are individually taped on to the ceilings, and booming renditions of “Last Christmas.” On the tables waiting for us were fruit bowls, salads, and bottles of vodka and juice to quench our thirst. Throughout the night we ate well, sang Mongolian songs, made speeches, presented gifts, and danced the night away. More bottles of vodka came out the woodwork as the night progressed, and like the vodka, the champagne was also flowing well that night. The party ended at 12 and we made our way back to our town. Once there, a group of teachers wanted to extend the party longer, they asked me to stay but as I was sick, my excuse worked and I was able to dodge a very dangerous bullet.
New Year with a Mongolian Family:
On the actual New Year’s Eve, I celebrated the night with Tumee (my teaching counterpart) and her family. She invited me over for hooshor, my favorite Mongolian dish. At that time I didn’t even realize that it was the day before the New Year. I brought over some beer, soda, and borsik (Mongolian sweet bread.) We ate, drank, and talked until 11:45 when the fireworks began bursting in the air. From our town, which is 7 kilometers away from the Aimag center, we saw the sky lit up with yellow, red, blue, and a variety of other colors and shapes. We also had our store of fireworks, so we joined in the celebration and lit the dark sky with a myriad of colors. After the pyrotechnics, we came back in for a typical Mongolian New Year celebration meal; buuz (steamed dumplings), cake, and champagne. It was a good end to a good night.
PCV and VSO parties:
The next day I went to the Aimag center to celebrate the New Year with PCVs, VSOs and a group of Mongolians. All of us were invited to Raj’s house, a health VSO member from India. The bachelor pad was bumping with music, and we celebrated once more with beer, vodka, champagne, and chocolate. Everybody had a great time, so much that we decided to do it again the next day at Jim and Julie’s house.
Jim and Julie had a beast of fish (at least 15lbs) that they didn’t know what to do with. That day I was staying over their place so I became the third host of the party. While J&J was away on errands, Julie had me bake apple bread. It was my first time baking, yikes! Julie knew this, so of course she left me unsupervised with a recipe book and all the ingredients for me to play around with. I peeled and then diced the apples, mixed the sugar, oil, lemon juice and all the other necessary items. Then I carefully poured out the flour, salt, and added 4 tbsp of baking powder in another bowl. If you are a baker, you would have caught my mistake already… yes, 4 tbsp of baking powder, ahahah. I thought that the tbsp scooper was the tsp, honest mistake since the damn thing was labeled. Luckily I hadn’t mixed and was able to scoop out the extra baking powder. Then I added the three mixes together and baked, desperately hoping that it wasn’t ruin by the mistake.
While the apple bread was in the oven, Jim and I worked on the ginormous fish. Jim gutted the beast and we decided to cut it into four portions. Each part would be seasoned differently. One of Jim’s two pieces was dedicated to curry fish, the other one was doused in butter and garlic, lemon juice and assortment of Italian spices. As for my part, I had one piece in a mixture of olive oil, salt, garlic salt, vegetable flakes, some Italian seasoning. After we took out the apple bread which was still un-tasted, we broiled the 3 portions. The last piece was left to the frying pan and with a little salt, garlic butter, and oil it was fried to perfection. While doing all of this, we were also preparing mashed potatoes and vegetables as a side, Jim the main chef, and I his sous chef. As the guests began to arrive we finished up the preparations and had them test out our experiment. They tasted, marveled, and then had seconds, thirds, and fourths. Tremendous triumph! Considering that this was the first time that we handled fish. Though Jim’s test was over, my apple bread was still under review. After gorging on fish and wine, the crowd moved on to dessert. Judy, another health VSO member was the first one to try my apple bread. She cut herself a piece; put it in her mouth, and from watching the expression on her face, 2 for 2! Twas a success. Not bad for a day of firsts. As the night rolled along, Julie got out her guitar and played for us. We sang, we drank, we had a good time! One of my favorite nights in Mongolia thus far.
-
Sunday, December 28, 2008
UB Misadventures
Last post was mostly about IST and there wasn’t much written about the wonders of Ulaanbaatar. In this post, I will detail all the nooks and crannies of the gem of a city that is UB. To put it simply, for PCVs that do not live in the capital, coming into UB is like diving into an orgy of fantastic delights. For most of us, food is the number one pleasure! Most soum-ers’ (small town-ers) basic diet consists of mutton, potatoes, onions, and if they are lucky, carrots. For me living in a ‘large’ city like Choibalsan, I have access to other goods such as beef, horse, carrots, cabbage, pears, and a variety of other perishable goods on a daily basis. Though I have access to these goods, most restaurants can do so much with these basic ingredients, so most “western foods” are sub-par or is greatly influenced by Mongolian tastes (mayonnaise on everything.) UB my friends is a whole different story! The restaurants actually serve pizzas that tastes like American pizzas, hamburgers that has barbecue sauce and bacon with French fries as a side, and milk shakes that are do die for. For the limited amount of time that I was there, I feasted on hamburgers, BBQ chick pizza, Philly cheese steaks, sushi, udon noodles, Korean food, and the most delicious chicken tenders that I’ve ever tasted in my life.
After food, we went to bars for mixed cocktails and beer on draft. There, one almost felt as if he/she is in America, transported just for a few days to all the access and excessive goods that America has to offer. And if we were in a dancing mood, the clubs were always open and were rocking to “apple bottom jeans”, “dangerous”, and all the hottest hits that the Billboard top 10 has to offer.
It was on such a night that I shall begin a story about our misadventure in UB. A good many PCVs were at Oasis, a favorite club of ours, first dancing to Rihanna’s ‘Umbrella’, and then moving to the techno beat. It was getting late, around 1:30 AM, so Kristen (another PCV) and I decided it was wise to get some sleep so we can do this again another day. We left the club and got to our guest house around 2:00 or so. I inserted the key, turned, and to my surprise the door didn’t open. I tried again, reinserted the key, jiggled it about and turned, again nothing. The third time, turned it left, then right, heard the click clack of the lock, but yet again failed to open the door. Maybe it was me, so I gave the key to Kristen for her hand at it. She gave it a go, but all in vain. Having no luck, we texted the other people that were staying with us but was still at the club. In 30 minutes, and with 3 sets of keys, the other PCVs arrived. One by one they tried, and one by one they failed to unlatch the lock. By 2:30 or so, we were all tired and just wanted the comforts of our warm beds waiting for us on the other side of the door. In desperation we called the person that runs the guest house, we explained the problem, but got no help but an answer just to try again. We did, but all was futile as he door would not give in.
Surprisingly under these circumstances, we were all calm and decided that the best course of action would be to find another shelter. We didn’t want to pay for a night at another guest house, so we all went ahead with the plan to head to the Peace Corps office. Along the way we found the Kebab and Cola restaurant to be open, so we went in for some munchies and fight off the cold. The heat was a welcomed relief from the negative degrees weather and biting wind. We ate and talked and was all in a genial mood, well, as genial as we can be. After the quick meal we headed for the office which was a 5-10 minute walk further. When we got to the PC office, which was supposed to be open 24 hours a day, we were all shocked to find it closed. We banged on the door, rung the bell, but it was to no avail. There wasn’t anybody home. By this time (~4AM) the cold had taken its toll, some PCVs’ eyelashes were frozen and tempers were heated by the strings of bad luck. The next course of action was to find the nearest shelter, and luckily we knew of a place that was close by. The 7 of us continued our journey onward, some coughing, some wheezing, and some freezing their butts off. We made contact with another PCV that has an apartment nearby, and by his graces, we were saved from roaming around the city in -15F or so weather. Since the PCV was also hosting others, the extra 7 people turned his living room into a cramped hostel. I decided to stay awake, since I knew that 3 or 4 hours of sleep will only make me grumpy. And that I did, awake and reading the latest issue of The New Yorker. Where else but UB!
-
After food, we went to bars for mixed cocktails and beer on draft. There, one almost felt as if he/she is in America, transported just for a few days to all the access and excessive goods that America has to offer. And if we were in a dancing mood, the clubs were always open and were rocking to “apple bottom jeans”, “dangerous”, and all the hottest hits that the Billboard top 10 has to offer.
It was on such a night that I shall begin a story about our misadventure in UB. A good many PCVs were at Oasis, a favorite club of ours, first dancing to Rihanna’s ‘Umbrella’, and then moving to the techno beat. It was getting late, around 1:30 AM, so Kristen (another PCV) and I decided it was wise to get some sleep so we can do this again another day. We left the club and got to our guest house around 2:00 or so. I inserted the key, turned, and to my surprise the door didn’t open. I tried again, reinserted the key, jiggled it about and turned, again nothing. The third time, turned it left, then right, heard the click clack of the lock, but yet again failed to open the door. Maybe it was me, so I gave the key to Kristen for her hand at it. She gave it a go, but all in vain. Having no luck, we texted the other people that were staying with us but was still at the club. In 30 minutes, and with 3 sets of keys, the other PCVs arrived. One by one they tried, and one by one they failed to unlatch the lock. By 2:30 or so, we were all tired and just wanted the comforts of our warm beds waiting for us on the other side of the door. In desperation we called the person that runs the guest house, we explained the problem, but got no help but an answer just to try again. We did, but all was futile as he door would not give in.
Surprisingly under these circumstances, we were all calm and decided that the best course of action would be to find another shelter. We didn’t want to pay for a night at another guest house, so we all went ahead with the plan to head to the Peace Corps office. Along the way we found the Kebab and Cola restaurant to be open, so we went in for some munchies and fight off the cold. The heat was a welcomed relief from the negative degrees weather and biting wind. We ate and talked and was all in a genial mood, well, as genial as we can be. After the quick meal we headed for the office which was a 5-10 minute walk further. When we got to the PC office, which was supposed to be open 24 hours a day, we were all shocked to find it closed. We banged on the door, rung the bell, but it was to no avail. There wasn’t anybody home. By this time (~4AM) the cold had taken its toll, some PCVs’ eyelashes were frozen and tempers were heated by the strings of bad luck. The next course of action was to find the nearest shelter, and luckily we knew of a place that was close by. The 7 of us continued our journey onward, some coughing, some wheezing, and some freezing their butts off. We made contact with another PCV that has an apartment nearby, and by his graces, we were saved from roaming around the city in -15F or so weather. Since the PCV was also hosting others, the extra 7 people turned his living room into a cramped hostel. I decided to stay awake, since I knew that 3 or 4 hours of sleep will only make me grumpy. And that I did, awake and reading the latest issue of The New Yorker. Where else but UB!
-
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