Enjoying a Satisfied Life

Cheers to being Content & Satisfied

I can't say I've spent much time thinking about stress. I wouldn't say I'm a person that has suffered from it much as a general statement. Either I was taught, or intuitively knew, how to manage it. For me, when I felt agitated (which is how I experience stress) I simply go for a walk or run, write in my journal, talk with friends/family, or it's a matter of seeking information to illuminate the fear around the worry. 

When I reflect on my life, I consider the things that have kept me up at night. They sit on two opposite spectrums:

(A) I have laid awake at night with worries about money. How to pay all the bills. How to save what was needed. How to do everything a person wants to do. How to get out of debt.

 (B) I have also laid awake at night overwhelmed by love, excitement, and uncertainty about what lies ahead.

In both cases, I had to recognize that there is only so much a human being can control. In the end, I suspect most of our stress in life lies around our inability to control circumstances in our lives. (Or....is a result of us making purchases around "what we think we deserve" versus what we've actually earned.) 

I apologize if this is a disconnected string of thoughts around stress. Recently a friend of mine shared with me this TedxUlaanbaatar talk about stress. It's presented by a young Mongolian man that traveled the world inquiring about stress--where it comes from and how we deal with it (or not)--from diverse countries and cultures. There are a couple of things he mentions that struck me. First, that countries that have a high amount of entertainment correlate directly to a high incidence of stress (Japan and USA being two of them). He also talks about drug/alcohol use/abuse as a way to deal with stress. 

The day after I watched this talk, I continued to think about stress. At this point in my life I experience a minimal amount of stress. I live with an overwhelming feeling of peace and serenity and my worries are minimal and short-lived. What exactly offers this situation? First, I have a loving, patient, and supportive spouse. I have a loving and caring family--both here in Mongolia and across the ocean. I have a purposeful job that provides a wage that allows me to pay my bills, have fun, and save for the future.  I have a warm and comfortable, though not extravagant, home. I have a network of friends that support me as well as participate in fun and celebrations with me. 

 

Yes, when I take a moment to look at Maslow's Hierarchy of Needs, it becomes apparent that perhaps for the first time in my life, the bottom four layers are fully met. 

And beyond that, I am not weighed down by the hurry-up-and-achieve attitude that I feel permeates American culture. As soon as an individual gets a job or a degree, people begin to ask about the next step, the next degree or certification. As soon as you marry, then people ask about the house you will buy or the children you will have. If you run a 5K, then you will be asked about the 10K or marathon you will run next. There is this continual push to be climbing a mountain or a ladder. What is our aversion to simply being content? Being satisfied? Just Being? 

You see, this struck me clearly and directly one night this week. I came home from work on Tuesday and began to make dinner. In the U.S. I felt that making dinner was an act to be rushed or hurried through.....make the food, eat the food.....and get on to what's next on the list. The next scheduled task. That is not true of my life in Mongolia. I do have to get up and go to work five days a week, but outside of that I have very few obligations or schedules. Mongolians do not schedule more than a day or two out, generally speaking. They make their days up as they go, following their feelings, interest, and the opportunities that arise. 

As I peeled, sliced, and seasoned potatoes, I found incredible joy in the simple act of making food for myself and my loved one. Once the potatoes were in the oven, I cooked bacon and then the burgers. I flipped the potatoes. I put the bacon on, and melted cheese over it all. I listened to music and sipped a little wine. Zorig was busy in the living room on the computer, though we enjoyed bits of conversation here and there. When the meal was ready, we ate. 

This life is about satisfaction. About enjoying the simple acts of life and love. When was the last time you felt content? That you did not feel pushed to provide the NEXT something.....? 

 

Fall Break Travel

Picnic lunch on the Chuluut River

I work at an international school and with a host of international teachers; however, I am not an international teacher. Love and a new life brought me to Mongolia; I'm here with every intention of staying forever (this comment always seems to surprise my students and others I meet here in UB). International teachers teach around the world for the diverse experiences as well as earning the money and opportunities to travel to yet more places during their breaks and time off. Lunch time lounge chats often revolve around travel recently completed or where future breaks are bound to take people. For me, I'm focused on traveling here in Mongolia--to discover and learn more about this wild and free country where I make my home with Zorig and Enji. 

My school has a one week Fall Break in mid-October and Zorig fulfilled my wish for a countryside adventure. We traveled north and west to his camp on the Chuluut River, about 170 km south of Murun. This map is an estimate on locations. We left UB (red) and traveled west. Ulziit (yellow) was a way point, consider it like a rest stop. We ate soup there at 6 am on our journey back. And the camp was near Jargalant (green). We were an hour drive from Jargalant at Z's camp. We spent the first night and the last two nights there and two middle nights at a camp farther up into the mountains, via the Princess Road. Both camps had us sleeping in wooden cabins and we had stoves in which to burn firewood, keeping us warm and cozy. 

One thing about countryside travel in Mongolia--it requires A LOT of driving and a great portion of it is off-roading. Our trip included approximately 350 kilometers of paved road and then 200 of unpaved. The unpaved takes much more time, of course. And for my friend and I, it required active use of Dramamine to survive without losing our stomachs along the way. The views are stunning and I like being so close to the land. It was 12 hours driving time to get from UB to Z's camp. 

But that 12 hours got slightly extended by a few stops en route. We stopped for lunch, then to change a flat tire on our trusty Russian Van. 

A ways over the steppe, we stopped in a village to get the flat tire repaired (smart!), and then in the middle of the night, Zorig shot a wolf and we celebrated with the local nomads (who rode up on their motorbike) as they had been losing sheep from their herd in recent days. This celebration included vodka, of course. We finally arrived to sleep around 2 am. 

Awaking the next morning to the stunning view of blue skies, mountains, the river, and a picturesque camp (built by my husband!)....was breathtaking and worth every minute of the bouncing, bobbing, and banging-around ride in that Russian Van. 

Day 2 we traveled yet farther into the mountains by way of the Princess Road (it reminded me of old mining roads in the West, very narrow, rocks on all sides) to our second camp where we stayed for 2 nights. We arrived again after darkness, so a second morning began with a breathtaking view. We hiked and fished. We ate and drank. We made a huge bonfire, drank wine  and whiskey, and danced around the fire to music from the 60s and 70s (playlist included: Hotel California, Winds of Change, How Deep is your Love, Midnight Lady, and an ABBA song, as well as others) that blared from a CD playing inside the Russian van. 

Something fascinating about countryside travel in Mongolia is that you can feel FAR away from civilization and human beings. No cell service, no light or sound pollution. You are out in the middle of nowhere, it seems. However, you can't walk very far without running into a herd of some sort of livestock. K and I encountered cows and horses and watched a herd of yaks graze on the opposite bank of the river. We never saw the human herders that owned these animals, but I'm sure they were over just a ridge or two. The animals aren't at all bothered by humans--they are mildly curious at best. 

One of my favorite things about traveling into the countryside with Zorig is his knack for cocktail making. My dad and I experienced this for the first time last summer (2014) when we had "fruit cocktails" laced with fancy vodka. Our fall break trip included a mixing of some sort of fruit flavored cocktail mixer with cheap Mongolian beer. It was delicious! The food is often a mix of premade items (sausages, bread, salads in jars) as well as food made from local meat, veggies, and dairy products. We had horse meat soup with noodles and I made a beef soup with noodles one afternoon. We had rice and beef, and mutton ribs cooked by Zorig over charcoal (Yum!). 

Aaruul, about the size of a Silver Dollar

Countryside trips often include visiting with local nomads. We were invited into the homes of the families near the camps and enjoyed milk tea, yak butter (a bit like heavy whipped cream) over boortsog (sweet fried bread....similar to a beignet), aaruul, and other dried yogurt products. I am acquiring a taste for some of these items and each new home offers their own unique products. K and I tasted things and made recommendations on what was good, and what we didn't care for ("Oh...these are the good biscuits!" or "Oh yum, they have the yak butter!"). At this moment, I actually have store bought aaruul (traditional dried curdled milk) in my refrigerator. I like it a little soft and not dried out--but I LIKE IT. The first time I tasted it....I found it sour and distasteful. Not so anymore. It has both a sweet and savory taste--difficult to describe to someone that hasn't tried it. It has qualities of both cheese and yogurt. Hmmmm. 

Husband sharing Mongolian vodka

Also tried on this trip, for the first time, was traditional Mongolian vodka. I am NOT a fan of this and will forever remember K's whispered comment to me upon her first taste (sorry that's one of our many inside jokes and phrases from this week of adventure). It is vodka made from milk. It is clear like any other vodka, but has a sour milk taste to it. It's a weak vodka and probably only half the alcohol content of store-bought vodka. But when you drink as much as Mongolians can, it's easy to get drunk on the stuff as we observed. :)

In the middle of October we took a risk traveling. The weather can go any which way that time of year. But we were blessed with mostly sunny days with our highs in the 40s and it dipped into 20s and teens at night. We slept cozily in our sleeping bags in the cabins (with the stove going when we went to sleep, and firing it up again in the morning to take the chill off). 

View from the outhouse at Z's camp, Stunning!

For Westerners traveling in Mongolia, you quickly get used to the fact that there are no rest areas or public toilets. You carry TP with you (I always over pack!) and if you're lucky, you may have a wooden structure to surround you. Men have it easy, of course; for the ladies, you hunt for a berm or a bush or a big rock. Sooner or later the urge over takes any modesty you are trying to cling to. This is real life and our bodily functions are natural. You just get over it. 

All in all, the week of travel and adventure was every bit of fun and excitement I could ask for. It was lovely to have a girlfriend along to share in the fun and memories being made. Mongolians are fun people to travel and be with. They laugh easily and smile often. They are resourceful and hard-working. Nothing is a bother. Yes, traveling within this beautiful country is all that interests me at this time. My new life is filled with discovery at every turn--I love it, and the man that is sharing it all with me. 

The Hard Part

I've been IN COUNTRY now for 129 days, or 4 months and 6 days. That's one-third of a calendar year. I have yet to live through the frigid winter that is around the corner of the calendar. Zorig tells me repeatedly that life in Mongolia is about SURVIVAL. I'm yet learning this truth; I suspect it will be true for me, but that it will have different meaning. It will be more than learning to live in the cold and pollution. My surviving here will be different than the surviving he's been doing his whole life. 

In recent days and weeks it's occurred to me that THIS is the hard part. 

By THIS I mean: assimilating, adjusting, and integrating myself into this country, culture, and way of life. Overhauling my personal life, selling my home, car, and belongings, shipping what remained around the world, finding employment, and getting on a plane with five 50 lb suitcases--that was the EASY part. Now the real work has begun. Learning to live within this developing country with it's alternate way and view of life is the hard part. 

You see, I was "domesticated" in the United States of America. I was trained by my parents, by family and friends, by my schools and churches. I was raised and taught how to live and operate within the world by my American society. (For more info about this idea of domestication....please see The Four Agreements.) I see the world through a lens that is shaded and tinted by my American ideals, judgements, expectations, and social mores. This is neither good, nor bad, it just is. 

Now I live in Mongolia. People raised here have gone through an entirely different domestication process. What they expect (or not), value, think, feel, judge, and how they react is different. In recent weeks I have found myself being in conflict. Not because people are starting fights with me. It is internal conflict as I try to manage my assumptions and judgements about how Mongolians live their lives. That sounds bad, I know. But let me try to explain it with an anecdote.

My stepson recently had his Fall Break--a week off from school. Unfortunately his week did not coincide with my week off. So it goes. Anyway, Enji came to stay with us for a good part of his week off. Simultaneously, Zorig took off on a fishing reconnaissance trip to the north (before it gets really cold around here). I found myself feeling upset FOR Enji. He comes to stay with his father, and then his father takes off on a trip?!?! They spent no time together. When I asked Enji how he felt about this reality, he simply said, "It's normal." I was mystified. He wasn't angry, hurt, upset, or bothered, AT ALL. He stayed up late, played video games, watched movies, had a friend over to spend a night (and he and I hung out some too!). He did everything he would have done, even if his father had been here. 

BUT....I know how this situation would have gone over on an American kid. I told Enji about this. I said, "If I were you in America--if I went to spend the week with my dad and then he left on a trip--I would be hurt or angry and upset." Enji listened and I know he understood me, but it was obvious that he saw no reason to have any of those types of emotions. He loves his father, he knows his father loves him. They FEEL one another. 

So my question is.....do we, as Americans, create the neuroses and drama that we are always fighting our way through? Do our kids act hurt and angry and upset because we have taught them they should feel that way?

I wanted what these men had....smiles, laughter, ease of being

I am coming to believe that Americans live with far too many SHOULDs. Mongolians, on the flip side, live with next to none. Here you do what you want, when you want, and you don't feel guilty or bad about it. Why? Because it is your life to live; and you are free to do what you desire, what you want. Simply put--Be yourself. (And NOT what you assume, think, or believe others think you should be.)

I noticed this quality of Mongolian life in that first trip with Dad in 2014. The week we spent fly fishing on the Onon River included three Mongolian men--Zorig, Hongoroo (driver), and Amgaa (local fishing guide). I was fascinated by their ease of being with one another, laughing, talking, and being quiet at times. They were not more than acquaintances at the start of the trip, but there was never awkwardness or tension--even when we got stuck in the middle of the river!! 

While I could have NEVER predicted the events that would follow that trip, I can tell you that I was drawn to the laughter and voices of those three men. I wanted something which they had. An ease of existence, a feeling of freedom in self expression, and so much laughter and smiling. Yes, I wanted that in my life. You see.....Life just IS here in Mongolia. I don't know how to explain it any simpler than that. 

I AM excited about learning to live my life this way. Love should be freeing and not controlling. A person's life journey should be a joy and discovery and NOT bogged down with outside judgements or expectations. An individual should feel free to express themselves and not be fearful of what others think. We should be honest with ourselves and with others. We should not feel as though we have to apologize or make excuses. We are each of us human, after all.

But do you see.....I can't escape the need to use "shoulds"......

I am yet a work-in-progress. Thanks, Mongolia, for this immersion course in living life freely, openly, honestly.

Making good on Declarations

One of our first pics together, my hair was SUCH a mess!!

In the wee hours of August 6, 2014, Zorig said to me, while walking me home from River Sounds to Dad and I's hotel, "if I have any chance to have your hand, I'm going to take it." At the time, I thought the man was crazy. We were acquainted just six days, had different native languages and cultures, and we lived continents apart. What could he really think was possible? I left that day thinking I would never see him or Mongolia again. 

But throughout the late summer and fall, he pursued me relentlessly. As I made the long overdue changes to my personal life, I began to consider seeing him again if/when he came to the U.S. for work. Time marched on and we chatted twice daily learning all we could about one another. From simple information--what we like to eat and what we don't, to deeper, more philosophical things. No topic was off limits and we had nothing but time and opportunity to learn all we could in this unexpected virtual courting period. We never skyped--all of our communication was through email, facebook messenger, or international SMS texting. Who knew you could build such a solid foundation on words. And yet, it makes sense....we couldn't be distracted by the physical with all those miles between us. And so we got to know one another.

On December 22, Zorig came to the U.S. in pursuit of me, in pursuit of the love that had developed between us. There were no guarantees, no insurance that we would have the magic. But we had to find out. Had to know for sure. I will never forget that epic gesture--investing the time and money to travel 6K miles to come and see me. To meet my family and my friends. To see me in my world. Seven weeks together--though the future course was determined within those first hours and days. I would move to UB come summer. I knew in my gut that this was THE right choice, the right option, for us. For Zorig. For Enji. For me. During those weeks together, Zorig proposed marriage to me and I said "yes." While I knew I was hopeful to find work in UB at one of the International schools, I wanted to have a spousal visa so that living in Mongolia would be long term and not directly connected to my employment. 

Marriage kiss

Speeding ahead, I arrived to UB on July 2nd. I enjoyed summer fun with Zorig and my father, then with Zorig, Enji, and my dad. Dad left and I began to learn my new home and city. At the end of August, my work began at ASU. 

In September, Zorig and I began to chip away at the necessary paperwork to apply to marry. This is a tedious and time consuming endeavor, as laid out by the U.S. Embassy. While I went along to get documents notarized, Zorig did most of the running around. At the end of September he submitted our completed application and the necessary supporting documentation. The woman at the Office of Civil Registration told him it would be a month. So we went about our lives, not thinking much about it. When she called to request a meeting a week later, we thought perhaps something was missing or that we needed to be interviewed to push the paperwork onward. I took the day off from work so that we could attend a 10 am meeting on Friday, October 2nd. 

Unexpectedly, we were told that we were being married and then entered into the official archive of Mongolian records. Zorig had to run down the street to the bank to make a deposit of 2,800 MNT (about $1.40) to the Office of Civil Registration. I had that in cash, but they needed it to be a bank transfer. After he returned, we stood up and the female official wished us happiness and health in our future life together (I assume reading the words that are written in traditional Mongolian script/calligraphy on our Marriage Certificate). We kissed and giggled and smiled and kissed some more. The woman kindly snapped some pictures of us--kissing and with our certificate of marriage. While this is not at all what we expected for the day--there was a simple beauty in just going with it all. Nothing about our relationship, our love story, has been traditional or expected.....so why should our marriage be so? 

It was a lovely day and weekend. After getting married, we caught a taxi and headed to Sunshiroh, Z's father's warehouse/business. En route, Zorig called his mother to share the good news, and I informed my fellow American wives and my best friend back in the states. The taxi ride was filled with smiles and laughs and more kissing. One really never knows what a day of life in Mongolia can hold in store for you.....and while this is sometimes hard for me to roll with (being trained by Americans to plan and schedule).....as the days and weeks move on, I see the beauty and feel the joy of living in the present moment. In going with my gut, my heart, and feeling free to express myself and be seen without masks and constructs to box me in. 

Zorig and Majig

After visiting Sunshiroh, we went to the in-laws apartment, where we presented our Marriage Certificate to Majig and to Enji. We ate and talked and drank 12 yo Glenlivet in celebration of our marriage. While I can't yet communicate directly with Majig, I feel her. She has the most beautiful and warm smile I've ever seen and her joy at our marriage was complete and obvious. Zorig gets his smile and big cheeks from her, as well as his pure heart and generous nature. We spent three lovely hours visiting and celebrating. 

In the evening, we met up with some of my fellow American wives and other mixed-nationality-couples for a bon voyage party (for a Canadian man, his Mongolian wife and two boys--who were moving to Canada the following day).  We enjoyed good food and the company of fellow mixed culture/race couples at Namaste, an Indian restaurant. 

It was a day filled with surprises and joy. We did not need a formal ceremony or to perform in front of others (though we yet intend to have a party to celebrate with extended family and friends). We did not need to say vows or make promises. We do that each and every day in our life and love together. We live love. 

Zorig made good on the declaration he made last August. He reached out and overcame me. Taught me to open up and expand. Taught me to believe in something I'd never known or imagined.  And my heart is yet moved by how he pursued me, how he was and is a man of his word, while simultaneously being a man of action, and most of all by how he loves and cares for me. This is the love of movies and novels. Of legends. And it's real. If you are waiting or looking for love, I entreat you to hold out for the BIG love. If you don't know what it means to feel and say, "I love you too much," then hold out.....there is something bigger, something greater, than you can imagine......until it happens. It can be a reality. 

It is not easy. It is not simple. It will require raw vulnerability, complete honesty, the baring of everything you know and hope and believe. You must have complete faith and trust--in being yourself, and in loving and accepting the other. Everything you are and want has to be exposed. There are no guarantees, no surety. It is scary and consuming and it will change you forever. And it can be the greatest journey of your life.