Heather Untethered

My last walk home...from downtown Colorado Springs

Day by day my apartment empties. There is a lovely symmetry in people arriving, giving me some $, and taking stuff away. I won't have to rent or borrow a truck to move a thing. The few small items left, come Sunday, will easily be transported in my Sentra down the hill to the Arc, or out to the dumpster. Tomorrow the last big piece of furniture leaves--my sleep # bed--and the adorable green bookcase that held my writing and inspirational books these past few years. Over the past few weeks my furnishings and belongings have been transported to their new homes. Pieces of me are scattered from Boulder to Widefield, and all across the Springs. 

I currently sit on the floor of my empty and hollow living room, listening to my 80s playlist (Life in a Northern Town, by The Dream Academy!--it's getting a repeat right now). Today a bookcase, my set of knives, and a small card catalog left. I had lunch with a girlfriend and ran a variety of errands, including a trip to Goodwill and a run up to Ulta to restock beauty supplies. Since arriving home around 4 PM I've been working on tasks for the GCLI (Gardner Carney Leadership Institute) Leadership Lab that kicks off three weeks from today (and for which I am the Director of Operations), and am also cleaning and packing. The second bedroom is completely empty and vacuumed. One of six rooms done. 

View of Pikes Peak on my walk home

While I wouldn't say I've ever been a person obsessed with "things" or consumed by the need to acquire them, I am finding it strange to be with so few. I do not believe our things are our "home." Not at all. And yet....I am finding myself a bit adrift, or untethered. Perhaps our things are some sort of roots that attach us to places? Or they are a type of security blanket? A layer of familiarity that keeps us comfortable and at ease? I can't put my finger on it exactly......so untethered is what I'll go with. I feel untethered. 

I had to fight the urge to go out or to invite friends over. I know I need this time alone, in this space, to process, to feel, to wonder, to reflect, to dream.

Tomorrow I will leave this home of just seven months. In 33 days I will arrive into UB and my NEXT home. For the 30 days that lie between those "homes," I am NOT homeless. A good friend is allowing me to stay in her home. In exchange for mowing the lawn and feeding and petting her cat, Bailey (yay!), I will have an entire house to myself. Rent-free. 

All true.

And the kicker...it is just 100 yards away from the conference I will run at the end of June. This is a win-win situation. No...I am NOT homeless. But I am between homes that are mine. 

And so....I will be untethered these   30 days and feel what that is like. 
I will float and flap and flitter.....until 
I fly across the Pacific to UB and ground my tether to a new place, a new land.

Dear Fountain Valley,

Cheers to you, FVS!

Dear Fountain Valley, 

Last night was our Close of the School Year dinner. Though the evening was cool, the weather gods allowed us an evening with no rain and the sun did shine out and around the clouds that make your prairie landscape so beautiful and inspiring. 

This was my third, and final, closing dinner and it was strange. I wasn't sure whom to talk with or where to sit. I knew I would be called forward by your Head of School, after being recognized for my contributions and wished well on my future endeavors. I opted to say a few words, but not everything I wanted to say....so I am going to say it to you here. 

I slipped out of the event around 10 PM, quietly. I couldn't put a finger on my emotions. I felt out-of-sorts.....uneasy. As I drove off campus and home to my emptying apartment (just 2 more nights in her), I reflected on my time with you--Fountain Valley School of Colorado. 

When I arrived three summers ago, I thought I would retire from you.  That I would travel far and wide on your Interim program. That I would be invited to a senior's dinner someday. That I would get a coffee shop space installed in the Hawley Library. That I would perhaps someday live on your campus. That I would someday get a 20-year rocking chair with my name on it. 

But alas, the universe has other plans in store for me. I wouldn't trade them in or relinquish them for anything; however, I do acknowledge that I am sad. I am a bit melancholy to be leaving you behind in my rearview mirror. And so....today, the morning after our last supper together, I sit here and hold both joy at having known you and sadness for having to leave you. 

While I know I did a number of things that I'm proud of in my three brief years under your employment, there were more plans ahead. I may have short-changed you, and the community, and I apologize for that. I know that my successor will continue where I left off--perhaps doing what I had planned, perhaps doing something altogether different. But either way, I know you are in good hands and will evolve into what the students, faculty, and greater community need. 

Over the roof of the Hacienda

I want to thank you for allowing me to work my "dream job" these past three years. I still lose my breath when I drive onto your landscape. The prairie is stunning....... peaceful..... and I am always calmed by your presence. You will always be the Narnia that I got to live and breathe and know.

Finally, I would like to thank you for the values you shared with me: Open-mindedness, Courage, Curiosity, Self-Reliance, and Compassion. While I think I had some element of these before I arrived through your doors, they have each been stretched, strengthened, or developed over these past three years. Because of you, I am stepping boldly into my future with confidence that I can do what I desire, and that even when I falter....I know I will be okay. I know that if we hit one of life's speed bumps a little too fast, the damage is repairable and one can either get back on course, or choose a new path. Thanks for being a beacon to everyone that knows and loves you. 

And thank you for being a place that brings together great people--motivated and giving students, passionate and encouraging faculty, and devoted staff. You are a gem in the world, FVS, and I was glad to have had the opportunity to hold you in my life for a spell. And now, forever in my heart as a memory. 

Bayartai ba sain yavaarai,
(Goodbye and safe journey)
Heather

Oh my, these Corkscrew Turns!

In the inaugural post of her blog aptly titled Purposeful Renegade, my sister shares that: "We are all at choice in our every moment, to choose 'love or fear' for they are the internal driving force of all that we do and say."

Just 38 days from departure.

I've encountered both in great amounts over the past 10 months. My first post of this blog was titled This Wicked Roller Coaster Ride. It has not slowed down since I first stepped on, and recent weeks have put me onto a constant corkscrew of feelings, emotions, and thoughts. We just watched another class of FVS students graduate on Saturday...ready to embark on creating the life they each want. Then we, as faculty, celebrated wildly with our annual Around the World party (I partnered with my friend, Nathan, to host Mongolia as Stop #4....and the stop where it turned to a little bit crazy). It was a good time with good friends and colleagues. 

My bedroom of just 7 months...

This week will mark my last days and nights in this little apartment that I've called home for just seven short months. I confess to feeling sad and a little depressed about that. It's been a good and safe place for me to be in while I evolved out of my past and into this hard-to-believe future. On the phone with my father yesterday morning, we both talked about how unbelievable this all is. One year ago neither of us would have EVER predicted that I would meet a man in Mongolia who would capture my heart and win me over so completely that moving to his country seemed the only natural path ahead of me. Nor did dad think he would return to Mongolia a THIRD time--and be planning to leave a fishing pole with his daughter in her new home because he will be back for a fourth visit at some point....and maybe more. 

First goodbye with Laurel Eller

I am beginning to say my goodbyes. Some don't believe in saying goodbye--but for my friends here in Colorado, I may never see them again in person. This is the truth. Of course we have Facebook, Skype or Facetime, and a host of apps to keep us connected--but I may never be able to hug them again. SO I acknowledge that IS a goodbye of a kind. And I do not want to avoid them or skip them or short change them. These are people that are important to me. They've been friends, co-workers, inspirations and supporters. They've watched me change and evolve...been a part of my journey, and I a part of theirs. 

Here is Laurel--my first official goodbye. We drank a yard of beer at the Golden Bee, enjoyed dinner, and four hours of conversation together. She and I have known each other since 2001 when we met while serving in the Army National Guard together. We went to Salt Lake City in January 2002 to prep for the Winter Olympics. We both got out of the military in April of 2003. I attended her wedding and have seen her here and there over the years, never losing touch. She is one of the most beautiful women, inside and out, that I have ever known. I will miss you, dear Laurel, but I know we will stay in touch virtually. Thank you for making the time and trip to spend time with me...and to say goodbye. (I hugged her three times!) 

I wish there was a bigger and better way to express my emotional state. Bittersweet doesn't seem strong enough--but it is all I have. I feel happy and sad. I am excited and afraid. I fight back doubts and answer questions--inside my own head, and outside to others. I anticipate that first hug and kiss--which we have waited so long to get back into. I will miss my mountains and Colorado sunshine. Yet I am anxious to be on the steppe and under the eternal blue sky. My throat gets a knot when I think of saying goodbye to all of these people that have given me so much. Then I smile thinking about all the new friends I will make. I look across the FVS campus and am melancholy to say goodbye to the place, the co-workers, the opportunities. And I am curious to meet my new faculty and admin and learn a new school and its students. 

Yes, the Gs (G force) of this corkscrew roller coaster ride are getting extreme and I don't expect they will let up in these last 30-some days. The speed will increase and the turns will get tighter. And so....I will do my best to hold on tightly and to keep my eyes wide open in every moment, in each exchange. I seek to find the love, and to release the fear. When we are the most scared is when we must hold tight to the love--love of self, love for others, love for humankind. We are all in this together and each choice we make has an impact--whether seen or not. 

Hoops & Paperwork

I've always thought it was far too easy to get married in the U.S.; and significantly more tedious and costly to get divorced. Perhaps if we required a little more work on the front end, we wouldn't have so many of the second. That said,  I know I am no poster child for success in marriage. 

My apartment begins to empty!

I've been married twice, and divorced twice. My first marriage was the product of pressure and feeling as if I "should" do it. Having a nine month deployment around the corner seemed to be the extra umph to push me into it. Nice guy--but not someone I was in love with. My second marriage was for love--or rather, what I thought love was. It started honestly and innocently. It was real and true for my 25-year-old self and her limited understanding of love and life. As I look back on it now, it was a lot of lust and the time and opportunity to see it through. We began solid enough but failed to grow in parallel paths. I don't think two individuals creating a couplehood have to grow similarly, per se, but they should both be growing as individuals. It is our growth, our stretching beyond our beliefs about life and oneself that makes each of us interesting. And one should forever be fascinated by one's partner, I now believe.

And now....here I stand on the precipice of marriage #3. And I can't begin to tell you the hoops I have to jump through and the amount of paperwork required to apply to marry a Mongolian citizen. It is, as follows:

• Statement about my "wish to marry a Mongolian";
• Affidavit about current status of marriage (thus I have acquired CERTIFIED copies of my divorce decrees....not supplied by the courts, of course, as they require a separate charge!);
•  Health analysis "such as Tuberculosis, Psychiatry, HIV, and STD." I'm hoping my HIV (required for the job) and TB tests, as well as a letter from my doc stating that I'm "in good health" will be satisfactory;
• Criminal Record from the place you reside (Done....sent CBI a check last week and have my clean criminal report in hand);
• Evidence that I have financial resources to support myself in Mongolia (ie. my contract from ASU);
• Reference letter from local housing authority/governer (NO idea what this is yet!);
• Reference letter from Immigration Office regarding my legal status in Mongolia; 
• Notarized copies of passports;
• Photos of each of us; 
• OH...and everything has to be translated by the Translation Bureau. 

That's A LOT of paperwork. And I am doing my due diligence to be sure I have everything I need before I depart. (In addition to getting my Visa application mailed off to the Mongolian Embassy in DC tomorrow!)

I suspect some of you may be wondering....what makes this man, this relationship different? How will this marriage be different? Why might it succeed? 

I can't foresee the future. I can't promise you it will. But what I can tell you is that for the first time in my life I feel fully known by a man. Zorig is my friend and companion. My lover and my mate. The person I want to share everything with (not true of previous mates--except one not realized and who passed on years ago). He is my present and our future. The past is simply the paths we traveled to find one another. The foundation of our relationship was built solidly on words that sprouted forth from our curiosity to know one another. And what a gift this year has been...while also being a certain kind of torture. In numbers, we have spent only 56 days together. Yet I would argue that our knowledge of one another speaks of years. This is not your ordinary story of couplehood. It is yet a mystery to me how someone from a different continent, country, and culture could know and understand me so intimately. I spent all my life dating Americans. And that Norwegian soldier I kissed in Sarajevo doesn't really count! I kinda wish I would have dated foreigners sooner....but then, I doubt they could measure up to Zorig! He's special in so many ways.....

So you tell me....how is it that someone 6,000 miles away seems to know my inner soul and heart better than anyone else I've ever met or known? I can't explain it. I can't make sense of it. But I do choose to embrace it and to pursue it. And I would encourage everyone I know, and love....to open your mind and your heart......to want and know that you deserve a soulful love. It's worth all the paperwork, and cold showers (see news article), and uncertainty, and adventure one can muster. 

I will jump every hoop presented to me because, at the end of each day I know that loving this man, and being loved by him, is what I'm meant to be doing in the here and now. I can't imagine a future without him. I can't see me--without him as my mirror. He is in my every breath, my every dream, my heartbeats. (Yes, Heather just got mushy on you all!) 

It should be like this......I feel (and he and I talk about feeling one another, across the miles and time and space--can you relate to that?). I will never be the same because of THIS LOVE...no matter its outcome. I am forever changed. Forever expanded. Forever more than I was before. 

Health & Wellness

When dad and I journeyed to Mongolia last summer, it didn't require any special vaccinations or health considerations beyond taking an OTC anti-diarrheal along for the trip. Since it's a generally colder place, we didn't have to worry about tropical illnesses or nasty bugs. Though they do have mosquitos much like our own. But now that I'm looking to LIVE there, the health considerations have expanded. After visiting my doctor for some regular preventative measures today, I learned I have a few shots coming my way!

First, I will get a tuberculosis test and a Tetanus shot early next week, back at my doctor's office (and covered by my insurance). They couldn't do it today because the TB test, if positive, presents in 72 hours and therefore they don't do the test on Wednesdays or Thursdays. I haven't had a tetanus shot since I went off on my deployment in the late 90s (at which time I also got the Hep A vaccination). 

My doctor was kind enough to go to the CDC travel site to see what is recommended for Mongolia (for an extended stay). The doc encouraged me to call El Paso County Health for a nurse consultation to find out exactly what I needed. He couldn't imagine that I'd really need the rabies vaccination.

Black dogs in UB

BUT...he was wrong. Come to find out, it is HIGHLY recommended, especially for those staying longer than a customary tourist visit, to get the rabies vaccination. It does make sense .....considering the country has 45 million domestic livestock alone. And don't get me going on the dogs! There are dogs everywhere. And I couldn't tell you what breed they are...but they come in all colors. Black, red, yellow, brown, blonde. Most seem like a mix of some sort of hound and border collie....or rather a breed I recently encountered, the Anatolian shepherd. And in my estimation....black dogs dominate! And yet, not a cat in sight. Dad and I saw well into the triple digits for canines in our three week stay, but I saw just two cats. SO...I will also go next week to get the first of three shots towards my rabies vaccination (1 x week for 3 weeks), and will also get a vaccination for typhoid (probably NOT covered by insurance...though I will submit them anyway, just in case). 

The nurse also encouraged me to periodically get a tuberculosis test once I'm in country. Sure enough, Mongolia "is one of the seven TB high burden countries in the WHO Western Pacific Region." It is interesting to compare the incidence of TB per 100,000 around the world. In the U.S....we have just four cases per 100K, but Mongolia and a number of other countries are 100-200 per 100K. This is NOT an astronomical number or anything....but I am a bit alarmed (there ARE some countries in the thousands).  (If you want to know more about the state of health in Mongolia according to the World Health Organization, click here and you can access their 2011 report. Looks like I have my weekend reading.) 

As I made my calls today to get information and to make appointments....I confess I got scared. Particularly about the tuberculosis piece. Though I do need a test to present as part of my "application to marry a Mongolian citizen" (stay tuned for a different post on that topic), I hadn't known it was something that I could/should be concerned about. So I'll get the test and have the proof that I don't have it (I'm assuming, of course), but I will also heed the nurses advice to steer clear of people with a serious cough, especially on public transportation or in confined places, and will also get tested on a regular basis. 

This made me reflect on our safe and sanitary existence here in the USA. I go everywhere and anywhere and never really think about getting a disease from others. There are doctors and hospitals everywhere and we feel so safe with our health insurance and access to information and government agencies. I'm sure I will miss the familiarity of these places and organizations. I suspect I will find myself frustrated at some point that healthcare there doesn't work like it does here--as familiarity is its own type of security. And maybe we don't worry about TB or typhoid or rabies....but what about all the Americans that are on medications for any host of issues: obesity, diabetes, high cholesterol, high blood pressure, autoimmune issues, etc? Are we not suffering from "first world" health problems--poor eating and exercise choices, and an ignorance around stress? 

So...while I wrestle a new fear into submission, I'm focusing on the fact that I will perhaps need to be aware of those around me and stay on top of TB testing, but I will trade this in for a way of life that is easy-going. Mongolians DO NOT over-schedule themselves or get wound up about the little things. In fact, my female Mongolian friend in Denver laughed at me when I tried to schedule a dinner with her a month ahead of time. She kindly advised me that Mongolians don't plan so far ahead. When I asked her three days out....no problem! :) 

Yes, I will have some adjusting to do and will require a paradigm shift. I will have to let go of my assumptions and expectations about life in the West, to embrace and enjoy a new life in the East. Every option or choice has its advantages and disadvantages....and my love and future is in Mongolia. 

That Frontier Feeling

There is this feeling I've had a handful of times in my life. It is a swirling mixture of elation, anticipation, fear, and happiness. You can feel it in your body--there is a near tingle in your extremities. You feel a part of the ebb and flow of life. The past is not important. You are 90% living in and feeling the NOW, and it is amplified by the 10% glimpse of what the future holds. Your smile extends beyond the corners of your mouth, up into your cheekbones, your ears. And if you could teleport yourself to the edge of a magnificent cliff, you'd scream sounds of sheer joy into the open abyss. You are on the precipice of something grand....and you know it not just in your mind and heart, but also in each and every cell of your body. It is a consuming feeling.

As I spend my last few weeks in this apartment, I've been trying to take advantage of walking to get around. Soon I'll be living in a big city and getting around a lot by foot. So why not start practicing? On Thursday evening I walked two miles into downtown Colorado Springs to have wine and food with a friend. It was approaching 9 PM when I walked home. 

It was dark and cool. After four days of rain, the air was thick with moisture and the smell of lilac blooms. Cars were speeding up and down the hill on Uintah and I was listening to music courtesy of Pandora (something I hear I won't have access to over there!). I paused to take in a deep breath of the night air. Leaning against the concrete wall that edged the sidewalk, I tilted my head back and looked up. Clouds were visibly moving across the sky and a few faint stars were visible in the distance. And that feeling coursed through me. I stood there, taking it in, feeling it, and tried to pinpoint what it was that creates this "natural high."  

.......and...... I think it is about a frontier. It is about being an explorer and marching off into some type of unknown. It's about really and truly feeling alive, making you a live wire. 

Upon greater reflection, each time I've had this feeling, it has revolved around the move to a new place: 

• I felt it first the summer before my sophomore year of high school when my mother moved us from Michigan to Pennsylvania. 
• It came again in 1993 when I went off to college at Edinboro University of PA. 
• Next was my move west to Idaho in the summer of 1995. 
• When I was deployed with the Army National Guard in 1998 (to Hungary/Bosnia/Croatia), I had a slightly different shade of it--but had it  nonetheless. 
• Then in 1999 when I moved to Colorado. 
• And NOW....with the biggest move of my lifetime on the horizon....I feel it more acutely than ever before. 

Is this something our forefathers felt when they began to imagine a free and independent country? Is it something the pioneers felt when they journeyed west on the Oregon Trail? What about Lewis & Clark? Or the colonists that first established Jamestown? Or further back in time....Marco Polo? Christopher Columbus? Leif Ericson? Or more currently, Neil Armstrong going into space?

Yes, I think it is about journeying into the unknown, traveling to a frontier, (albeit perhaps a personal one)....

AND I think it's about having faith that what one will find and discover will be good, enriching, rewarding. As long as it is those things, the difficulties encountered along the way are worth it. 

Being Plugged in....

It's amazing how much of our lives is run by electricity. You don't think about this....until you prepare to move overseas and realize that taking all of your devices that run off of 110v won't be useful or wise. It's just better to buy what you need there. Zorig made this very clear as I walked around my kitchen and asked about my steamer...and he reminded me that no, I really shouldn't bring anything that needed power. (But the Pampered Chef hand chopper--absolutely bring it!)

There are some exceptions...for example, my new Macbook Air will come with me and I was easily able to purchase the adapter that makes my powercord useful there. And I've purchased a host of adapters and a 4-port USB charger for my iPhone and iPod. 

I'm also taking my Big Jambox by Jawbone speaker, using one of the adapters to periodically charge it. I have also already shipped the zebra leg lamp--a gift from Dad--and something that each of us kids has. It is the ONLY home furnishing (of a sort) that I kept and did not sell. I couldn't bring myself to put it in the container shipment--so I shipped it, along with my degrees and some other odds and ends, by air about a month or more ago. It arrived in pretty good shape and Zorig has already reassembled it and it sits in the second bedroom. It will require a rewiring job OR the use of an adapter to be plugged in and operate. 

Zebra lamp in background.

But there are a few things I love which I'm not taking--for example, my 2-deck Oster Steamer which I've had for over fifteen years and use almost weekly. However, I suspect I can purchase a steamer there and one that is built for 220v. I won't take my blender or my crockpot. I won't take my wii Fit (I know it's old!). I won't take either set of my hot curlers. I rarely use them anyway, so why bother. I have to say that I've been a bit surprised at how many things in my life require power.

WIMPY!!

But that DOES bring me to the haircare department. I DO use a blow dryer and a curling iron almost daily. I initially thought about having Zorig get these for me, but then I remembered the wimpy hair dryer that I used while I was in UB at the hotel. That thing took FOREVER to do anything to my hair. So I opted to use the POWER of Amazon to acquire this item here and take it with me. So I now have a hairdryer that says "Asia" on the box, as well as "Not for use in USA." It looks like the hairdryers I'm accustomed to...and will hopefully pack the power of the Conair I've been using for years. 

Hopefully powerful!

To the other meaning of being "plugged in," in about 55 days I will no longer be living my relationship through the virtual realm. Technology is both a blessing and a curse. Without it, Zorig and I would not be where we are. I would probably NOT be moving around the world. Yet I do look forward to putting down my phone and my laptop and to just being PRESENT with him, in the same space--able to hear his voice and kiss his cheek. To listen to Enji play the piano or violin while watching his hands move across the keys or hold the bow. To not checking my phone every so many minutes or hours in the expectation of being in communication with them.

Then it hits me. I will soon be in virtual communication with my father, siblings, and friends in the USA. My "plugged-in-ness" will never go away, only shift. But there will be times while in Mongolia when I will be off the grid for a number of days at a time--and that's something that I think is harder to do here in the US and getting harder and harder to do as more and more cell towers go up. We have less and less areas that are remote and untouched by technology. That's not true in Mongolia. While I think they have great coverage for phone service (I can't tell you how many herders on horseback we saw on their cellphones!), the wifi is not accessible in the countryside. 

So I'll leave you with this question, how do you go about balancing the technology in your life? What is it good for? And how does it hinder you?

Support Systems

Fawn and me in January

Women have long known the power of support systems--both socially and emotionally. Per Wikipedia, social support is: the perception and actuality that one is cared for, has assistance available from other people, and that one is part of a supportive social network. 

In recent weeks I've been asked, "aren't you scared?" It's come from students, from friends, and even from my tax preparer. This is a shift and not a question I got in the fall or winter. I'm not sure what is provoking it at this point. Perhaps it is because my stuff has been shipped and in May my furnishings will relocate to their next homes. While it's been REAL for me for quite some time.....perhaps it's getting real for others? I don't know. 

As I drove down the highway yesterday, I reflected on the times I've relocated in my life. My family moved to a new town and school in Michigan when I went into fourth grade. Then we moved from Michigan to Pennsylvania the summer before my sophomore year in high school. In both of those instances I was excited to be the new kid in school. 

After two years in college and at the age of 21, I decided it was time to break out on my own--so I moved west to Idaho. I'll never forget pulling away from my mom's house, driving a Dodge Aries station wagon pulling a Uhaul trailer, watching her wave at me in the sideview mirror, tears streaming down my face. Driving cross country with my college friend, Susan, felt like a certain American rite of passage. It took getting through some weeks of sadness and unease, but I found my first apartment, got a job (then a better job), and continued my undergrad coursework. 

My deployment to Hungary/Bosnia/Croatia in 1998-99 led me to my next move, from Idaho to Colorado. I had a job within days and resumed schooling once my residency was established. I completed my Bachelor degree here, then my Masters, and moved from the business world to education--and am wrapping up my 10th year as a teacher and librarian. I've been in Colorado for 16 years...the longest I've ever lived in one place.

I've gone from city to city, from state to state, from east coast to the Rocky Mountain west. And now I go from West to East. From North America to Asia. 

As I relived these moves in my mind, I reflected on how I established my support systems--where was my nearest family and how I made new friends. I am happy to say that I have meaningful friends that I am yet in touch with from each and everyone of these places. Angi from grade school; Jules from high school; Jules, Kimmie, and Kathy from college. Then I have Angela and Michelle from Idaho. From Colorado--there are many...from Mallory (first friend here) to Katherine (one of the newest) and a host of many in between. 

With Dave & Michelle in Idaho

Yes, I've been able to find and make good friends everywhere I've gone and lived. We make time for those that matter to us. Family. Friends. 

I'll be assimilating into a pre-existing family in UB (with Zorig's parents and aunts, uncles, cousins) and creating a new one with him and Enji. I will, of course, make friends with colleagues at the American School of Ulaanbaatar. However, I also recognize that as I will be a "local hire" and staying in Mongolia permanently, there will be some things about my life that ASU coworkers won't know or relate to. For many of them, teaching in an International school is a way to see the world, so they stay in a school for a year or two and then often move on to a new place. And while they will be living in Mongolia, they won't be integrating the same way I want to and will. 

So I'm happy to say that I've touched base with another contact that I think is going to prove MOST helpful for me in the coming months. Zorig, while trying to track down an American woman he'd seen on the news in UB some time ago, came across this blog post by a different American woman. Her story (you really should read her post--it's astute and I wholeheartedly agree with her observations of the unique brand of machismo that exists there) has some similarities to mine--though I confess I can't imagine starting a long distance relationship by way of a translator. 

This week I made contact with her through Facebook and was thrilled to learn that "there's a small posse of American wives married to Mongolians," and that she is willing to connect me with them. I can't express how comforting this is to me. While I know Zorig will take care of me in all the ways he knows how to, I know that I will want to talk to a fellow American female at some point....AND to someone that has been through what I'm going to step through. 

So YES, of course I am scared. But I am doing all I can to prepare myself in the now, as well as how to set myself up for success in the future. I can't wait to see what my new friends will be like--all the beautiful things they will teach me and share with me. This is going to be a beautiful expansion of what has been a good life so far.......

Oh....and all you current friends....prepare to be a member of my long distance support system. Facebook. Email. Skype. Facetime. WhatsApp. KakaoTalk. Viber. I have lots of ideas on how we can stay in touch.....but need to get IN country first to see what really works for me....from there. So please.....stay tuned.