Writing this now it’s very hard to believe I’ve only been here for a week. Probably because in that short period of time I’ve already met—and said good bye to most of—about 90 people, gone through a few dozen hours of language, culture and technical training, learned a new alphabet, and begun living with my host family here.
Pre-service training (PST) began with 5 days of the 75 of us living together in a dorm near the high school where we started our training. As you might expect, training initially consisted of learning the basic cultural norms and pleasantries, how to try to prevent, and inevitably deal with, our gastrointestinal maladies, what number to dial for a med-evac, and a general request that we employ our common sense whenever possible. However, we did also learn a few gems like how wrestling foreigners is something of a past time for certain ethanol-philic host country nationals (HCNs); how sometimes throwing rocks at a dog is the only way to keep it from biting you (hence why we’re all getting the rabies series—which I’m pretty sure now means I have virtually every vaccine I can possibly get); and how occasionally you have to take a hammer to the frozen stalagmite that’s been growing all winter in your outhouse.
However, if those represent the more trying aspects of service here, then the flipside has to be the people we’re working with. I can easily say I’ve liked every PCV, staff member, and HCN I’ve spent time with here so far, and that goes double for the six other male health Peace Corps Volunteers (PCVs) I roomed with for the first five days—one of whom for which this is quite impressively his first time outside the US. Currently the seven of us and the two female “healthies” are stationed with host families in apartments, houses and gers throughout the same city we did our initial five days in, alongside the half a dozen or so Community Economic Development volunteers (CEDs) with whom we’ll have cross-cultural training a couple times per week.
Unfortunately with the Peace Corps’ security policy, we’re not allowed to post the specific locations of PCVs, including ourselves, but I can say that we’re stationed south of Ulaanbataar (UB), and that the other Teaching English as a Foreign Language (TEFL) volunteers and Community Youth Development (CYD) volunteers are also stationed to the south and east of UB. When I arrived I was surprised to find out that about 60% of the M-21s (i.e. the 21st group to go to Mongolia) were here as TEFLs, and that only a handful of us are focused on health, CYD and CED. (Though I should note that almost everyone winds up working on something outside their specialty on the side.) Also I’ve found out that due to the “clustering” system they have here, it’s likely that I’ll be stationed in a larger city, likely an aimag (i.e. provincial) center, along with a volunteer from each of the other specialties. The idea is that grouped together we can help each other get access to more resources outside our specialty and more easily create inter-specialty projects. The company from my fellow PCVs will also undoubtedly be a plus, but being in a big city also means I’ll likely be living in an apartment and not in a ger, which I have mixed feelings about since I was looking forward to that experience. Of course an apartment—though not without its own hardships (such as not being able to control the temperature in the winter)—may likely be less laborious since I’ll be spared having to haul water and coal/wood/dung, and having to use an outhouse, so I guess I’ll just have to see how I feel about it once I get there.
Currently for these three months of PST, I have my own room in my host family’s apartment, which is surprisingly nice, and being on the fourth floor, has a magnificent view of the surrounding area. It’s close to the town center and the primary school (where we’re quite appropriately currently learning out “A, Б, Вs”), and despite the “soul-crushing” soviet architecture as one fellow PCV so aptly put it, the recently remodeled interior could be right out of the US—well, aside from the sparkly, periwinkle, floral relief wallpaper in my room. That might be a little hard to come by at home. But in terms of day to day living, the only real differences are the slightly limited cooking methods in the kitchen (just a hot plate for steaming and frying), the need to heat water in an electric kettle, and bathing in a large plastic basin called a tumpen.
Living with me are my retired host mother, 53, who used to be an accountant, and my host brother, 22, and sister, 20, both of whom are students. However, the other older brother, 28, who serves as a police officer, often visits with his wife and newborn, and the other sister, 30, who is studying in Singapore, will also be visiting for a few weeks this summer. Everyone has been very nice and accommodating, and my younger sister speaks enough English to communicate the basics, but without speaking well enough to rob me of my motivation to learn Mongolian. So far our activities have consisted largely of laughing at my attempts to speak Mongolian, laughing at my attempts to make Бyy3 (“boatz”, a type of steamed dumpling) and other Mongolian food, throwing around my frisbee and watching the world cup. Pretty par for the course from what I’ve heard.
And while the architecture may be less than inspired, the natural scenery here is absolutely gorgeous. Most days have been crisp and sunny, often with scattered clouds and the “big sky” effect of places with similar latitudes in the US like Montana and Idaho. Though the few days of rain we have had has made the smooth hills near our town a verdant green that gracefully rolls into the more distant, forested mountains. The high altitude, low humidity and northerly winds also give everything a crisp, fresh feeling, and while it has gotten cold enough to frost a few of these nights, I’ve felt well prepared for the cold and have actually been rather enjoying it (once the daily high is -5 F I may be singing a different tune though).
The food here has also been better than expected. Many of the larger towns, including where I am now, have decent access to fruits and vegetables, especially apples, oranges, carrots, cucumbers, potatoes, tomatoes and cabbage. However, they do seem to traditionally be used rather sparingly. Most meals consist chiefly of rice or a white flour noodle/dough base, some form of beef or mutton, and a rather mild seasoning. A bowl of candy, pieces of fried dough and slightly sweet biscuits are seem to be a staple in every kitchen. Basically it’s like a young, picky eater’s dream come true. The only thing of questionable palatability for me so far has been the “tu tset te”, or milk tea as it’s called in English. It’s basically just watered down, hot, salty milk that may or may not have had a tea bag dipped in it briefly. It was ok as a broth for a soup I had, but it’s kind of tough to drink straight up, especially once it gets into the tepid to cold range. The current PCVs say it’s an acquired taste. For now I’m playing the lactose intolerant card.
Anyway, I already have a few people I know want my address here, but for anyone else who wants it, or just wants to know what city I’m in, just email me at ned.lederer@gmail.com and I’ll be happy to let you know when I can. Questions and comments are also more than welcome. Hope everything is well for all of you back in The States, and I’m looking forward to sharing my next adventures with you sometime soon.
