The Paperwork is Neverending

In our ger

A little over a year ago, I began to share the news that I was in love with a man from Mongolia and that I would be moving there. A colleague of mine, a French woman married to an American man, recommended that I read Committed by Elizabeth Gilbert (interestingly enough, another co-worker had already loaned the book to me). I was familiar with the movie Eat, Pray, Love which was based on Gilbert's earlier memoir of the same name. Engaged at the time to a man from another country, I took her advice and read the book. 

The book begins with Gilbert and her partner (a citizen of another country) arriving to the U.S. and her partner being told he could no longer come and go. In order for him to be in the U.S., they would NEED to get married. This was not their plan. They had been perfectly happy to cohabitate and each had already been through a divorce before. BUT......international laws made it impossible to continue as they'd been doing. The remainder of the book follows them as they work with lawyer to get themselves legally hitched and the necessary paperwork completely so that they could have a life together in the U.S. The book also looks at marriage from various perspectives--historically, as well as from various cultures. It was an enlightening read as I packed up my belongings for container shipment and sold my furniture. Though I knew I would have a work visa for the year, Zorig and I had every intention of getting married as soon as we could get the paperwork done. 

Marriage Certificate holder

I arrived to Mongolia on July 2nd (can you believe I've already been here 9 months?!!?). Zorig began chipping away at the paperwork necessary to apply for marriage in September. I had arrived with everything I knew I needed from the list: divorce decree, results of TB and HIV tests, proof of salary (showing that I could financially support myself), a letter from CO stating that I had no criminal record, notarized copies of my passport, and passport photos. Zorig also had to provide a host of documentation. He visited the Office of Civil Registration multiple times--checking and double-checking--before he finally submitted our application for marriage around the 21st of September. I won't reiterate how that all played out, you can read about it in this earlier post. That was our first paperwork hurdle.

Fast forward. Now we are at work to change my visa from Work to Spousal. I did return to my maiden name in January. And since that time I've been at work to get all the trickle-down documents changed.....SS card (Thanks US Embassy for making that easy!), credit cards, retirement accounts, etc, etc....  

Zorig has been to the Khoroo Office (think municipal office for our neighborhood) three times already trying to get me registered as living here (initially the school completed my work visa paperwork with me living in the ASU teacher apartments) in our apartment. First visit--the Khoroo office was closed as everyone one was attending training. Second visit--the woman responsible was in the hospital getting her appendix removed. Third visit--the office said I needed to get my address changed on my Alien Card first. I communicated with the Mongolian at ASU that handles all the visa paperwork. She informed us that the Khoroo office is confused, as the Immigration office NEEDS a Residence letter from the Khoroo office IN ORDER TO CHANGE the address on my Alien Card. (Huge Eye Roll here!!!) I went this week to get notarized copies of my passport and our marriage certificate--hopefully to ease things for Zorig. I paid just $1.37 for four notarized copies (two of each document--just in case). 

Zorig will return to the Khoroo office this next week to push forward. Once we get all the documentation we need and submit it, it can take as long as 2 months to get the spousal visa. Time to simply stay the course. 

My hope is that we can get the Visa type changed...and that I can get my new Alien card to reflect both my name change AND my status change. BUT....I wouldn't be surprised if I have to do it twice--first to reflect name and address change, then again for the change in visa type. It's only money, and paperwork.

Found "Arizona"--four states checked off. 

Additionally, we have two more "paperwork problems" (think math word problem) ahead of us. We will get the stack of necessary paperwork prepared this month to apply for Zorig's travel visa to South Africa for our summer trip (where we will meet up with my dad for a safari). And we need to submit an ASU application for Enji for next school year.

I suspect these won't be our last journeys in paperwork. Zorig and I both can find it frustrating--we get to the point where we are exhausted from the running around, the copying and notarizing, the document requesting and collection, and paying the costs. But then we rally and push onward. We knew this wouldn't always be easy. And if the paperwork is the HARDEST part, then we are doing well. Our understanding of one another only increases (his English improves continually and I'm beginning to hear words and communicate in small ways in Mongolian), our connection deepens, the building of hopes and dreams continues--and the rest is just, well, paperwork. :)

My First Tsagaan Sar

On February 10th of 2015 I put Zorig on a plane home to Ulaanbaatar after our seven weeks together in the US. Those weeks determined our future--both of us making the necessary changes to make space for the other and to commit to a new future--choosing to become one another's family. In a world of 7 Billion people, we had found the ONE which we wanted above all others. 

Last year Zorig arrived home just in time for Tsagaan Sar. He sent me pictures of he and Enji with the rest of the extended family-- grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins. I looked at the pictures and began to imagine what it would feel like to be a face in that crowd. While I would look different, would I feel like family?

Amazingly, a year has come and gone and I have experienced my first Tsagaan Sar in Mongolia. I will share my reflections and observations here, but first, for a nice overview of the event, please read this blog post by my friend and fellow American Wife, Michelle Borok. Her extended family has more roots in the countryside while my experience is more city-centered. Zorig's parents came to Ulaanbaatar as young children; he is a first generation city person, making Enji second generation. City folk celebrate Tsagaan Sar similarly, but with some adjustments here and there. 

We went first to Zorig's parents' apartment on the eve of Tsagaan Sar to share food and drink, and to toast the incoming new year as a nuclear family. Home just before midnight, we slept shortly and were up before 7 am to prepare and leave. Back to the in-laws by taxi, where we greeted the new year and received gifts. We piled into my father-in-law's Land Cruiser and made our way to the home of the eldest family member--Zorig's 91-year-old grandmother.  

Most of the family

The traditional spread was on the table and women were busy in the kitchen steaming buuz. We drank milk tea, nibbled on food, and drank airag from a silver bowl while everyone else arrived. During this time, the passing of the snuff bottles was also conducted. (Thankfully, I had first experienced this back in January on a short visit to Michelle and her family in Darkhan--therefore I knew what to do!) 

Shortly after 9 am, the family was assembled and the traditional greetings and offerings began. From oldest to youngest, family members pay respect to their elders. Younger members place their hands and arms underneath the elders and lean in to "sniff-kiss" one cheek and then the other. A monetary gift is also offered. As the elders are honored, the rest of the family continues to offer similar greetings and wishes for the new year all around, paying attention to rank in the family by age. 

Buuz fresh from the kitchen

With greetings complete, everyone sat to eat buuz fresh from the steamer. A vodka toast to happiness and good health in the new year followed. We ate and drank and visited--everyone catching up on one another's lives. My Mongolian language is yet limited, but I caught words here and there and continue to be amazed at how much one can glean from body language, context, and tone. While I am the only foreigner in the bunch, I have never felt strange or out of place when around Zorig's family. Their acceptance and love for me is present and full. His grandmother gets around very well--her mother lived to be 94 years old--and I am comforted to know that genes of a long life run in the family. 

By late morning, we departed. Most people have multiple homes to visit and there seems to be a rotation. After some brief down time at home, Zorig and I walked from our home to visit his mother's sisters. The first a sister by marriage, the other her older sister. Both of these apartments were within very short walking distance of our home. We spent 30-60 minutes at each home--long enough to drink milk tea, enjoy some of the salads, and to have a fresh round of buuz presented, all the while chatting and visiting. This was my first time to meet members from Zorig's mother's family and I very much enjoyed meeting them, seeing their homes, and having the opportunity to get acquainted. On Wednesday evening we visited one more home. 

Three different presentations of the Ul Boov

All in all, we visited just four homes for the holiday. This is small compared to most; one of the sisters said she would see perhaps a 100 people in the three days of visiting. You can see why there are hundreds of buuz made!! 

As a foreigner trying to explain this holiday to my countrymen at home in the U.S., I would say it feels like a blend of Thanksgiving and New Year's, plus a little something extra. Thanksgiving includes a host of traditional foods and is about family gathering together to offer thanks for their health, their good fortunes, for life. New Year's is about the hope and well wishes for good things in the year to come. Those two things, PLUS a ceremonial recognition  and respectful appreciation to one's elders is what Tsagaan Sar felt like to me. I couldn't think of anything we have in the U.S. that would be similar to this third element. Perhaps because we are a young country that lacks centuries old traditions? Perhaps because we are a melting pot of diverse cultures? 

Ultimately, Tsagaan Sar is about family--the blood that connects us and binds us to our pasts, as well as the new connections made through marriage that hold the future of our families in them. I feel honored to be warmly received into this new world, culture, home, and family. My first year of education and assimilation continues, but one thing remains the same--I've never been happier than I am now. Happy New Year to you all--may this Year of the Monkey hold health and happiness for each and every one of you. 

Standing out in a Crowd

Early in this blog journey I wrote about how my features are different and said, "I can't imagine what it will be like to be a Westerner in UB, in Mongolia...." A few things happened this week that made me remember this initial question of mine and I feel somewhat informed to answer it now. 

First, I rode the public bus home three evenings this week and each time I was the only "whitey" on the bus. Once it was standing room only, the other two times I secured a seat for the ride. Most bus riders scan the crowd as they find a seat or hook their hand through a grip when it's standing room only. They either pause when seeing me, or return to me after scanning the crowd. Some choose to watch me for quite a good bit of time. If I'm wearing my face mask for the pollution--the stare factor usually increases.  I wonder what they are thinking or wondering about me. Their looks don't make me at all uncomfortable, just curious--as I suppose they are about me.  

Last night I went out with coworkers after work for food and drink. We were a table of Americans--five females, one male. Most other patrons in the establishment were Mongolian, though there were a few other Westerners present. Mongolian children seem most fascinated by us--either our looks or perhaps listening to us speak in English. At the next table there were two children--one was approximately nine years old, the other a toddler. Both watched our group--the toddler often standing and staring. Children lack the filter to think or believe that staring is not nice. We smile and say hello. The children here are so cute!

View from my library on a clear day, compare to last post

As these instances came and went, I reflected on what it's like to live in a place where I stand out because of my physical looks. In the U.S. I am about as average or ordinary looking as one can get--brown hair, brown eyes, an inch taller than average height for females, and also average in size. In the U.S. I did not stand out in a crowd. Here, it's the opposite--I most often do stand out in a crowd. This does not make me feel uncomfortable or strange--I rather like the experience of standing out. I chuckle as I remember all the things I did when I was in high school to try and be different. Wearing colorful or quirky clothes, wearing all black--including black lipstick (before the term Goth was coined), getting a tattoo at age 17, joining the Army when I was a junior, and so forth and so on. Yes, I've spent a great bit of my life trying to stand out and be different--perhaps because my features were so ordinary. 

I never could have imagined that in my future life I would move to a nation where my being white would be the first and primary reason to stand out and be different. But it's true--as they say on Sesame Street, "one of these is not like the others." As the tourists have left UB/Mongolia, there are less of us foreigners around and we do stand out. I especially like being out in public with Zorig and watching people notice us together. While it is becoming more common (I know a number of couples), it is yet UNCOMMON to see foreign women with Mongolian men. We shall enjoy being a rarity while it lasts. 

Finally, I've decided to make a game of how many U.S. states I can find in UB (as names of establishments/places). Here are snapshots of California and Nevada. I've seen a couple of others--but no pics yet. As of now, that's two states off the list, 48 to go. I do not expect to find them all, but it is interesting to consider where and when a Mongolian visited the U.S., then returned to Mongolia and decided to name their place of business after a U.S. state. California is restaurant/bar and there are a few of them around UB. Word is they are modeling their business after the Cheesecake Factory. They do have a stellar presentation of their entrees. Nevada Lounge I spotted on my walk to the U.S. Embassy. I did not visit so can't speak for what kind of establishment it is; however it was funny to see palm trees on one of their signs as I walked in -20 F weather. Made me giggle.