Newborn Expat in a Brave New Land

Fresh Meat and Fruit/Veggie market

I suspect many of you want to know.....how is it really going over there in Mongolia? What is the true sitrep? (Situational Report for all you non military folks.) I've ruminated on this enough to give you a post that is both authentic and well considered. So here goes....

Our apartment is in an excellent location--the heart of downtown UB--and I can walk to nearly anything I need. Just yesterday, Zorig took me on a tour of various supermarkets within walking distance of our apartment. Megastores are a thing of America, and not of Mongolia. BUT, there are a plethora of "super markets," one on nearly every block. Yesterday I observed LOTS of good meat, fruits, and vegetables, as well as a number of canned products and other goods. Prior to yesterdays outing, I was worried about getting food that I knew how to cook....but my worries are now gone. 

When it comes to meat, it's just OUT THERE here. It isn't sealed up nice and pretty in plastic and stryofoam here. Quarters and ribcages and hunks of meat simply lay on the counters and you tell the butchers what you want and how many kilos. In one deli, there were stacked (pre-cooked) sheep heads for sale; in the same store, I observed small squids and octopuses in the freezer aisle. This land is an interesting mix of meat from the nomadic herders (beef and sheep being the most prominent) and shipments of fish and other water creatures from the Asian coastal countries. 

While I am yet adapting to the foreignness of what I find in stores here, I'm also comforted to find some things that look familiar. As time passes I realize that my stress around shopping has less to do with what I am finding, and where to go to find it, and more to do with the adjustment of knowing I will be shopping every 2-3 days. The refrigerators here are small and one doesn't buy in bulk as so many Americans do; also, the produce doesn't keep as long, it's already traveled a great distance to be here. I assume people who live in large cities like New York, Chicago, and the like, also do smaller shopping excursions more often. This is less about being in Mongolia/UB, and more about adjusting to life in a big city. 

You CAN buy fermented mare's milk at the store!

I've already begun to make friends! This is good because I have experienced feelings of loneliness and isolation after Z departs for work in the morning and I have an empty, long day ahead of me. But thanks to Facebook--which they use far more effectively here--I've been making connections.

There is a teaching couple from my school that opted to stay here for the summer. I've already met up with Christy twice and we are planning a third get together soon. They've been living as expats for seven years and just finished their first year here in Mongolia. They are a wealth of information and advice, and already know quite a bit about where to find stuff in my new city. Additionally, I'm Facebook friends with three other "American wives" and they've all been in country for three or more years. We have a great camaraderie already, despite not having yet met up in person. They've directed me to stores and the appropriate library. 

It's time to get to work on the language! This is no small task and from my networks I've learned there is no real organized (aka school or training center) way to do it. I will just have to do a little each day and work at it. Yesterday I added three words that will be helpful when I ride in taxis: zuun (left), baruun (right), and chigeeree (straight). Part of what makes it tough is that it's written in both alphabets--the cyrillic and the latin. I don't know the cyrillic alphabet but have observed that it will be MOST useful to do so. So that is on my list and I think I'll ask Enji to make me an alphabet reference sheet (his hand writing is VERY good). 

We've been w/o hot water for some time now and each day the cold water is off for most of the day. I have observed construction workers tear up a trench behind our apartment building, pull out old pipes, install new ones, and then refill the trench with earth. They do a section each day and are amazingly efficient. My understanding is that they are replacing the wastewater pipes. The hot water pipes are under the street on the other side of the building. They do not have hot water heaters for each apartment building, but rather heat water at a central facility and then pipe it to the buildings. I've adapted to life w/o hot water rather quickly. :) In a month or less, the upgrades will be complete and this time will be a faint memory. 

Zorig and Enji have been most welcoming to this foreign woman. Zorig took me to the post office one day, to MobiCom (phone provider) the next, and then brought me a dresser on another day. I'm not sure what they have observed about my habits, likes, or dislikes....but I'm sure a number of things. They've made space for me everywhere--both physically and emotionally. I DO feel at home here. Z has done most of the cooking to date, so I try to help by keeping up with the laundry. And two nights ago was my first mini-milestone. I made dinner for us all AND it was good. 

My first home-cooked dinner

This was no small task in my mind. Knowing that meat, boiled and cooked with vegetables and noodles, is a staple, I ventured across the street to Nomin and purchased food. I managed to get a half kilo of some sort of seasoned pork, potatoes, cabbage, and broccoli (already had onions and carrots at home). Then I began to learn my way around the kitchen. Enji kindly offered to help--but I knew it was important to do this on my own, at least until I learn where things are and gain some level of competence in my new kitchen. It took some time....but my meal of pork-potato-carrot-onion-cabbage-noodle soup and steamed broccoli....went over quite well. I was even surprised by the tenderness of the pork (It required no dental floss, Dad!) When Z arrived home from work at 10 pm, he ate three helpings, a sure sign of success. I may be a 40+ yo woman....but I felt like a girl in Home-Ec who just made her first meal and earned an A+. Funny how something so simple and basic.....made me feel so good and accomplished.

So.....the report is that I am doing well. Plenty of moments that begin with fear or discomfort or uncertainty. I remember my favorite quote--"Behind every fear is a person you want to be," and I choose to breathe, to smile, and to think about what I can learn or who I can become by stepping forward. I may ask questions or consult Google maps, but then I simply put one foot in front of the next. The fear, discomfort, or uncertainty.......well, they simply dissipate into the background. There's always a new moment ahead, but it gets easier to face them with each passing day. 

Thanks for reading and continuing with me on this journey. 

Malls in Mongolia

View inside the State Dept Store, aka Mall

My father departed late on the night of the 17th and I've spent the last few days unpacking, cleaning, and exploring my immediate surroundings. Z is off building at the worksite; therefore, I am learning what it is like to ACTUALLY have downtime in the summer. While I've been working in schools for 10 years now, I never got very good at the "off time" in summer and chose instead to fill it with extra work, travel, and/or attending trainings or workshops. So...this is a luxury and I'm doing my best to enjoy it. 

The main street on one side of our apartment building is Peace St. It is populated with shops, restaurants, salons, bars, and boutiques. I've walked it in both directions, exploring what my offerings are. I would say that Mongolian women LIKE to shop. Despite the uneven sidewalks, dusty paths, and mud puddles that we all walk in UB, women here take shoes seriously. Three or four inch heels are not rare. I've never lived in NYC or Chicago or any other metropolitan city in the USA, so perhaps UB is not so different from the USA. Strange that my first big city living is in a foreign country.

UB Dept Store

Malls in UB are called "Department Stores." While Americans would call Dillard's or Macy's a department store, it has an altogether different meaning here. Here it means a mall--a large building with multiple stores inside. Here, they are built UP and not OUT. I have been inside four "department stores"--three of them right here on Peace St--the State Department Store, the Peace Mall, and the Ulaanbaatar Department Store. As I walked through them, checking out the offerings, I was most surprised by all the "little booths" in each one. America is overrun with its megastores and super centers (Walmart, Target, etc); here, the little boutiques yet abound. I observed numerous booths dedicated to one of the following: cosmetic, shoe, clothing (specifically men, women, or children--rarely all together), and baggage (purses, wallets, etc). 

Each Dept store tends to have a large placard such as this to help you find what you need. While there are LOTS of shops/booths/boutiques, the actual offerings are minimal. I can't seem to find washcloths anywhere--while hand towels abound. I can find lots of types of Qtips, but have yet to see cotton balls anywhere. There are tons of detergents and softeners, but I can't seem to find a spray stain remover (like Shout). I am glad that I stocked up on clothing and shoes/boots....so I won't have to do any REAL shopping for quite some time (and learn what size I am in Asian cuts of clothing!). Thankfully, the women I see on the streets here are just as diverse as American women--tall and short, skinny and curvy, and everything in between. I also see diversity in styles--from dresses and short skirts, to shorts and t-shirts,  to funky pants with lots of zippers and converse shoes. One Dept store off of Chinggis Khaan Square has a Louis Vuitton store, as well as a number of other high end stores. I see a LOT of the Burberry plaid around town--children's clothing, scarves, bags, dresses, umbrellas. I see it most every day...at least somewhere. 

My Little Ponies adorn the UB Dept Store

Next thing to explore....Michelle Expo...which is the place to find "fake" IKEA offerings. I need to get a couple of bookcases, a reading lamp, and who knows what else....maybe a small desk? It's not within walking distance....so will have to explore by taxi ride. Perhaps one day next week and with my new friend Christy as my guide. She knows where stuff is!

Assorted Observations

Dad and I in front of my school

Well, it's safe to say my adjustment to life in Asia and Mongolia has begun. This road will be long and bumpy at times, I know, but there is only one way to go......down it. 

I know many of you want to hear about things. Food. Culture. What the city is like. Where I've gone. What I've done. Etc, etc, etc. I will attempt to use this post as a smattering of odds and ends. It will not be cohesive...but then making a new life in a foreign country is not cohesive or chronological. It's been a series of fits and starts, realizations, a connecting of dots that aren't so obvious.

It's been from hot to cold. It was in the 90s for my first few days in UB; then one morning on the fishing trip, it dropped below freezing, we think. Right now, it's been in the upper 70s or low 80s. Totally do-able and comfortable. The sun is intense here, just like in Colorado. It's arid, which is nice and allows ones clothing to dry quickly after being washed (people don't have clothes dryers here). 

First, I can say that not having hot water is NOT as hard as I thought it would be. Having NO water, which did happen for about 24 hours, is NOT good. So I am thankful for the cold running water. That said, I have learned to keep pots of water on the stove--because one never knows when the cold water might be out for a few hours. Plus, these heat up darn quickly and one can manage a modified sponge bath and hair washing quite easily. It's impressive how little water one needs to be clean. And when it was hot, the cold shower didn't feel so bad. 

Here is a list of other assorted observations for your reading pleasure:

• That sound.....the music coming from the truck down the street.....IS NOT THE ICE CREAM man. It is the trash truck!;
• Sidewalks are NOT smooth. They are more like cobblestone and one needs to be constantly aware of where you step. This is not a city in which one would want to walk the streets inebriated....as a twisted or broken ankle would be easy to acquire;
• Not much is standard. I live in a 4th floor walk up. The top stair in each flight is considerably higher than all the rest;
• Most places open up at 8:30 or later...some not until 10 am. However, they are also open later. The Post Office here is open until 8 pm, even on Saturday. They stay up late, and sleep late (till 8 or after). It's a different life schedule, as a general rule (my job/school comes with a traditional Western timetable!);
• On that note, making dinner at 9 or 10 or even 11 pm is not unusual!;
• I had wondered about traffic noise in the apartment. Interestingly, in the middle of the night, all I hear are teenagers hanging out on the playground outside our bedroom window, or dogs fighting. No real traffic noise;
• Items I've had to hunt for....but have found: Scotch tape and Spray Cooking Oil;
• My post office box is just 4 minutes away; the local public, and American friendly library, is just 10 minutes away; there is a grocery store/mall across the street and NUMEROUS restaurants, bars, and karaoke spots!;
• Things are smaller here....stoves, sinks, refrigerators, vacuum cleaners. One buys qtips (not brand name, of course) by the 100s, not in bulk; I haven't yet found cotton balls anywhere;
• Pandora and Songza don't work here. Thankfully, my comrades in the "American Wives Club" have informed me about Jango;
• One should always carry toilet paper in one's purse or pocket; oh, and dental floss too--at least for those of us not adept at using a toothpick.

Yes, things are different here. But not everything. The library I visited even has ancient old card catalogs still lying around (though thankfully not being used).

Yesterday I met up with one of the fellow teachers from ASU. It was nice to spend time with a fellow American. We then went to dinner with other female expats and Mongolians who are a part of the International Women's Association of Mongolia. They sponsor a social outing each month. It was nice to be out and socializing.

Now I'm heading out to acquire yet MORE hangars and a few household items. Hope to be posting again soon. I'm happy to be here. Though I miss my U.S. friends and family, and the comfort of familiarity in surroundings, I can assure you that I am being welcomed with arms wide open here. 

Khorkhog in the Countryside

Enjoying some milk tea while the meat cooks

Before Dad left to go home, we took off on one last countryside adventure. Three days and two nights of driving and camping and a little fishing (Dad caught a third taimen, as well as some lenok and grayling). But before we arrived to our campsite, we tasted our first horhog (khorkhog). For this event, it meant meat cooked both in its skin and with hot rocks. There are a number of ways to do this. On Episode 9 of Bizarre Foods (avail via Netflix) they cook a goat by blowtorching it on the outside, and then putting hot stones down into it's cavity (along with some veggies). Our first experience with horhog was a sheep. I'll do my best to relay here the process we observed. It starts, of course, with a killed and gutted sheep. 

First the blowtorching

First, we watched while she was blowtorched on the outside to burn off all of her wool (well, that which hadn't been sheared away first). Dad and I did see a crew of neighbors busy at work shearing the sheep in a small corral nearby. Similar to how farms worked back in the day, out in the countryside here, members of families in the surrounding area come together to help one another accomplish the work of managing the livestock. There were a good 10 or more people shearing sheep. There were goats and sheep, as well as a good number of cows and horses in the surrounding area. Except for the small corral, there were no fences to be seen. Remember, this country has just 3 million people in it, but over 45 million domestic livestock (cattle, sheep, goats, horses, and camels. Oh...and reindeer in the north). 

Once the skin is sufficiently blowtorched, then she (it could have been a male...I really have NO idea!) is washed clean with water. Most of her skin is now white, with all of the hair gone. She was then cut into parts. They cooked her organs and innards separately (see bowl on left); I managed to try the heart, some liver, and later on, I also tried the infamous tail. 

Nothing quite prepares a Westerner, or at least this American, to watch the intestines and the lining of the stomach being consumed. But this is nothing more than how we are conditioned. We all have foods that we find tasty and that remind us of home or our culture and/or region. For me, I crave a good burger and french fries from time to time (and I can get one here at the Grand Khaan Irish Pub); Zorig craves his soup. Something to appreciate about the way Mongolians eat--nothing is wasted! 

The sheep is cut into pieces and is then put into a large metal pot, such as this one, along with some vegetables (onions and cabbage for ours) and some salt and seasonings. Then HOT ROCKS--just pulled from the stove--are added to the mix. The pot is sealed and placed on top of the stove and cooks.....in our case, I would say it cooked about an hour and a half. Perhaps a little less. 

Then the feast began. Everything is emptied from the pot onto large trays and laid out on a table which everyone gathers around. (Curious note: Cucumbers seem to accompany almost each and every meal here.) There are no plates, no utensils.....not even any napkins. You simply dig in and enjoy a hearty family feast. Mongolians laugh and joke and tell stories. Smiles light up faces and it feels a bit like a barbecue on the 4th of July--but with EVERYONE in the best of moods. I can say that while Zorig and Enji worked hard to keep Dad and I in the loop about the conversation, there is MUCH said that I know we missed. I am motivated to learn this language because I know I'm missing out on so much story. As my cousin said to me, it's strange to feel lonely in the midst of a crowd. 

I'll leave you with this adorable picture of our host's daughter carrying around a baby goat while the adults were working to shear the sheep. She was as cute as could be and not at all shy with the animals. 

Fishing Trip 2015--short report!

Finally...with My Love...in Mongolia. 

After being on the ground not even 48 hours in Mongolia, we headed off to the north for a week-long fishing adventure. In some ways, I would recommend this as a speedy way to adjust to a new time zone. Sleeping in a tent in the fresh air of the countryside was blissful. I slept well each and every night (but confess I missed a daily shower immensely!). While I am happy to be living in Ulaanbaatar, I know that living with the pollution will be one of my greatest challenges in this new life. That said, I spent my first week in the north of Mongolia. Dad, Zorig, and I flew to Murun on the Fourth of July, late in the afternoon (flight delayed because of "winds"), and then proceeded to drive through the night towards the junction of the Shishged and Tengis rivers. We did stop around 4:30 AM and threw some sleeping bags out under the stars and slept for 2-3 hours before beginning to drive again. 

After a flight and an overnight drive, we arrived and then were off on rafts on the Shishged river in pursuit of the taimen (pronounced time-in). Part of me wants to say the taimen is what brought dad and I to Mongolia last summer. But that would only be partially true. I wanted to visit Mongolia because of a picture from Dad's 2009 trip to the country. It spoke to me and I felt it was THE most exotic place on the planet. If I went no where else, Mongolia was the land I wanted to see. I had NO idea what it had in store for me. But you already know that part of the story.

My Lenok

I'm happy to report, if you didn't already see our facebook posts, that Dad caught two taimen. What we came hunting for last summer simply took a little more time and energy to accomplish. But then...isn't that true of most good things? I did not catch a taimen, but did catch a good-sized lenok (worthy of becoming lunch) and a number of grayling. I will post some pictures here of me with the fish.....as you can see, I may be a "tomboy" ....but I'm still working on being okay with slimy, freaky fish. I really do NOT like to touch them. But I sucked it up to try and hold this darn lenok... they are STRONG suckers.....one big muscle it felt like! :)

One of my Grayling

I liked catching the lenok, but the grayling were a lot more fun. I used a surface fly to catch them, which means I could see them strike the line and was more engaged in the "setting of the hook," so to speak. I missed as many, or more, than I actually landed. We threw all of them back...except the one that I snagged too harshly. He was added to the dinner menu for the guys. (I don't like grayling....but the lenok was TASTY!)

Zorig cooking my Lenok for lunch

There is MUCH to write and share about already....but Dad and I are busy with meeting the family and making it through these lovely days together. I have many things to share...have had my moments of fear and doubt....but they are washed away with a clear sense of knowing that I am where I belong. 

This is my new home and I am overwhelmingly happy to be here. 

Finally Arrived

After 37+ hours of travel, I finally arrived to my new home of Ulaanbaatar, 

Enji & Zorig....my boys

Mongolia. Zorig, Enji (with red roses in hand), and Dad were all in the airport to collect me....just as soon as I wrestled my five 50-lb bags off the baggage claim belt and onto a cart. Yes--all 5 made it on time and in good shape (shout out to Dorothy for the gift of that fifth piece of luggage!). It was SO good to finally be here. I was nervous...but to have those three smiling faces so glad to see me....my nervousness dissipated and I was just happy to be home. 

Though I've only just been here a day and a half...they have been JAM PACKED. The first night we went out to see the house Z has been building, meeting co-workers and friends along the way. That night we had dinner at 11 pm at Terrazza, owned by one of Z's friend's, and located in the Zaisan neighborhood of UB (home to a large segment of the Expat community here). The food was hearty and so nice to be drinking and celebrating together. 

The next day, my first full one here and ONLY yesterday, was packed full. Off to get pictures taken for the Immigration office, then to customs to collect a couple of boxes I shipped in early June. Z left me at the immigration office where I met up with the Admin Assistant from ASU to walk me through the "check in" process. After Immigration, we went to the District Hospital where they took my blood (HIV test) and xrays (check for TB). This took a number of hours, but was accomplished. Then it was time to meet the family. I will have to load a picture of that later...as it is on Dad's camera. There were lots of smiles and laughs.

This is a picture of Dad and I just down from the apartment on a plaza like place that is for pedestrians only. Behind the Lipton sign is the State Department Store which is like a mall. It is also a major landmark in the city and where I will tell taxi drivers where to go when I need a ride home. Malls here are built UP and not OUT. The top floor of the SDS has the "Made in Mongolia" store--a place dad and I went last summer and I'm sure he'll visit again before he returns home. 

Today we head off to Moron in the north and a week of fishing and camping. It will be radio silence for a spell....but I'll be sure to check in when I return. 

Lots of thoughts and feelings and observations to share.....but it's all a swirl of newness yet. It's great to have dad here for the initial introduction to my new home; and of course, it's beyond lovely to be back together with Zorig after our 4+ months apart. See you all soon.

Leaving one Home for the Next

It's 11:47 PM Pacific time and I'm sitting in the International terminal of LAX. I spent most of today in a strange state of disbelief. I've been counting down to this day for over four and a half months, and suddenly it was here. Last minute details were handled this morning--stuff to Goodwill, final packing and weighing, shipping a box, taking a book back to the library. Cleaning and picking up the house where I've been staying this past month. Yes, the month of June flew by in the blink of an eye. 

Goodbyes are hard and sad. Hellos are fun and lovely. I have a foot in both of these camps tonight. I am anxious to be in UB. To be reunited with Zorig, to meet Enji and the rest of the family. And I am sad to say goodbye to SO many friends that have become my family over these past 16 years of life in Colorado. 

As I said goodbye over the past month, and especially this last week, it was strange to recognize how, in some ways, my friends are harder to say goodbye to. My family is scattered to the wind. Six people in the nuclear family and six states of residence. Four west of the Mississippi (and soon minus one), two east. We are fortunate to see each other once every 1-3 years. And oftentimes we have to choose whom we'll see this year, and try another next year. Our Christmas in Michigan, that occurs once every five years, is the ONLY time we are all together. 

Shot out the window as I flew out of DIA.

And so my friends have become the family of my Colorado years. These are the people that visited me in the hospital last year and have met me for coffee or a meal when I needed to talk. We attend birthdays, anniversaries, and other big moment events. We celebrate accomplishments and listen to disappointments. We text and call and email and Facebook. And while I am geographically closer to them and far from my parents and siblings--they (the local friends) are the people I communicated with more. What is this about? I don't like having this realization hit me. How is it that my parents and siblings and I communicate so little? It takes no time at all to send a text and let someone know that they crossed your mind. And how good it feels to be the recipient of that....

We are too damn busy for our own good....as well as the good of those we love. Period.

I'm a mix of all kinds of thoughts and emotions tonight. I am sleep deprived and emotional and overwhelmed by the path my life has taken. That said, what I sit with tonight is a bit surprising. I already feel as though America, though I'm sitting in it as I type, is no longer my home. I have 15 boxes/containers of my life already in UB, one en route, and now 5 suitcases and 2 carryons traveling like me. I have MUCH to learn about Asian and Mongolian culture and ways of life, but I already feel that my home is there. In UB. It is wherever Zorig is. And in about 24 hours, I will touch down and begin again. 

Thanks to all of you for your support and encouragement over these past 11 months. I could never have predicted I'd be where I am. Not a year ago. Not in August. Not even in October. And yet....here I am. Thanks for your part in making it possible. I move forward because I know I have all of you standing behind me.