Choose Your Own Journey

Zorig and me at the ASU Gala

I love the work I do with teenagers--teaching them how to find, evaluate, and use information, sharing my passion for learning, hearing their fears and worries around paper writing and project construction as well as their hopes and dreams for the future. Yes, I love being a part of their becoming, so to speak. I also enjoy supporting fellow educators-- expanding their content assignments with research components, introducing new or better resources and/or online tools and applications, partnering with them to push our students to think critically and to cite their sources--making all of us ethical users of information. Yes, this whole Library and Information Science thing is exactly what I should be doing. And yet, as I left a colleague's classroom this past week, after giving demonstration and instruction around EBSCOHost databases, how to effectively search Google, and how to use EasyBib, I shook my head and smiled, all the while thinking to myself--"How in the world did I end up here?" 

You see, being a teacher OR a librarian was NEVER on my radar. Looking back at my High School yearbook, I proclaimed I wanted to go into International Business and Foreign Languages. Documents I completed while attending my Army Basic Training talk about wanting to pursue a degree in Criminal Justice. As I worked my way through my undergraduate degree, I had a variety of declared majors. I went from Undecided to Secondary Education-History to Business (WHAT?!?) and finally landed as an English major. 

One of the students in that colleague's classroom last week asked me how I chose my major. I tried to explain my circuitous route. The Secondary Ed History major was declared because I had some elective history courses (Colonial Africa, Latin American history) that I LOVED. So, I declared myself a history major. But then I was pushed to answer the question--WHAT JOB WOULD/COULD I get with that? Teaching seemed to be the ONLY option and far too limiting. 

With colleagues at the Gala

Then I thought only about jobs that might provide a good income. I moved from PA to ID and changed my major to Business. Then I took a required Math class and realized that while I was good with general math, even algebra or geometry, it really was NOT something I had a natural aptitude for and certainly NO passion for. At that juncture I finally had a heart-to-heart with myself. What was it that I LOVED TO DO? What was I passionate about? What did I like to learn about?

I loved to read. I loved to write. I loved to put the two together. Being an English Major became the obvious forerunner. As I discussed the change with people, that annoying question came back to the surface, "but what kind of job can you get with that as a major--besides teacher?" I didn't really have an answer. Being a teacher WAS still NOT something I considered. But I knew that if I was going to go into financial debt to pay for college--I wanted to enjoy the education I was getting. And it also became clear around this time that degrees weren't always tied to the work one does. My supervisor at the time (working at Hewlett Packard) was a personnel manager. His undergraduate degree was from Purdue in Architecture. So I got my BA in English and loved every minute of it. 

Then I floundered for a couple of years. I had a good paying job with solid benefits at Hewlett Packard and wasn't motivated to seek something other than. But one can only answer phones in a call center for so long. After dealing with a difficult customer one afternoon, I thought to myself, "I cannot do this for the rest of my life. I want work that means more. I want to make a difference." Long story short--I discovered the world of Library Science and had my Master's degree in about 20 months. I loved the course work. Initially I thought I'd be a public librarian. I loved my public library (PPLD of Colorado Springs)! 

At the Marine Ball

Then another "aha moment" hit me when I considered answering the question: "If you had all the money in the world, what you do?" My answer--I would be a perpetual college student--getting degree after degree. I love to learn. I love to open a brand new notebook, use colored pens, take notes, write papers, read. Yes, being a student is what I most loved being in the world. So I wondered--maybe if I was a librarian in a school--where learning was happening all around me--I could feed the student in me while also making a dependable income. I absolutely made the right choice! I love what I do--while teaching others (both students and adults) I learn so much myself. 

All this to say.....life is sometimes not what you expect or envision. Sometimes you don't know where you belong, until you pause, look around, and marvel at the synchronicity of your being in a time and place, doing what you're doing. This does make it challenging to give youth solid advice. Some may chart an immediate and direct course and never waver; others, like myself, may find themselves in and out of the fast lane and sometimes taking detours on dirt roads. Some may end up where there are no roads at all. No matter where you go, or how you get there.....the journey is your's to determine. My small offering of advice--YOU choose it (not anyone else!), feel free to make u-turns or change direction, and it's perfectly okay to stop and enjoy the scenery and people along the way. One never knows how a place, or person, or interaction may forever alter the path. That's the beauty of it all. And if you aren't happy--you have no one to hold responsible except yourself. Get moving and Journey on! 

It's the Freedom I Love Best

I hate to say it aloud...but winter has arrived to Ulaanbaatar. On the Celsius scale we have sunk into the negatives and I expect we'll be there until after Tsagaan Sar (end of February this next year). While it snowed first in September, we've had a number of dustings in October. Here's a snapshot of Enji and I on the morning of October 5th as we departed to catch our school bus (which picks up just 50 yards from our apartment door--so nice!) 

The days are getting shorter and we will soon leave for school in the dark and return just as night descends. While the darkness drives me to *want* to be inside, it doesn't much affect Mongolians. When I look out our kitchen window and down onto the pedestrian plaza underneath it, it is always busy with people--adults and children--going this way and that. They are bundled up in their knee length coats, scarves, and hats. There are yet peddlers on the street. Example--the selling of pine nuts. I can't imagine the work of harvesting these little nuggets, but they are for sale everywhere. 

Pine nuts for sale on the plaza

And as Zorig tells me, ALL Mongols eat these. I have tried them, and I like them, but I am not adept at splitting open the little shells. Even with lots of practice. Zorig will buy a a little plastic bag holding about 4-5 cups of them for about 5,000 MNT, or maybe a little more. That's hardly more than $2. I'm beginning to think he's correct--I've observed pedestrians chewing away at them, watched drivers and passengers in vehicles chuck the shells out their window, AND while riding the public bus I've found the sliding window sills insulated with the empty husks. Yep, samar (mongolian word for nuts) are a popular pass time in Mongolia.

I was all alone for a couple stops

This past week we had book club (we read Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children. I felt "meh" about the book, but thoroughly enjoyed our discussions!). This time last year I felt uncomfortable walking and riding the bus around at night. I wanted to get home asap. While the cold can drive a person to do that, I am a year older and specifically, a year older at living in Mongolia. It WAS cold on Thursday night when I left the Teacher Apartments at ASU and hoofed it to the bus stop. But there were also less people out and about making it feel uch later than it was (only 8:30 PM). I hailed the bus driver of a number 55 bus....I don't think he planned to stop. But he did a rolling-door-open for me and I hopped on. I was the only person on for most of the trip--which compelled me to take my phone out and snap pictures. I NEVER do that anymore because it can make one a target for pick-pockets. My phone is on silent and tucked away for any and all bus rides--well except this one. :) 

One other passenger, going over Peace Bridge

I opted to ride the 55 a little farther to see which route it took past the Nomin San (Central library) stop. This led to me walking farther than planned--but now I know. It was a cold night...but there were lots of people out and about. In fact, when I arrived to the pedestrian plaza near home, there were a number of teens skateboarding around the Beatles Statue. I checked the weather when I got inside--it was a 16 F outside. I tried to think--would an American teenager be skateboarding in sub-freezing weather? I want to say "no"....but I'm not sure. Teens can be unpredictable. However, I'd certainly say that Mongolian teens are acclimated for this weather. 

As I rode that bus and walked home in the cold night air, I felt free and elated. I tried to think about how that compared to life in America--to discern what I like about living here the most. And just a couple days before Enji said to me:  "I have a question for you. And be totally honest! Have you ever regretted moving here?" 

"No. Never," I said emphatically, and smiled. There was NO hesitation or pause. It is the truth.

And yet, I know life here can frustrate me. And sometimes I pretend to imagine what it would be like if I returned to live in the U.S. When I do that, I realize all the things I would miss about living abroad, living in Mongolia. I would miss:

• making way less but saving way more (incredible financial freedom--something I never experienced while living in the States); 
• the incredible freedom of using public transportation (I LOVE that I ride a public bus and do not have stress around driving. Not to mention the cost!); 
• the relative inexpensiveness of things: I cringe at the COST of everything in America; 
• my free and in-the-moment shifting calendar of plans. I do not miss my overbooked schedule (in the US I often knew what I was doing weeks and months ahead of time) and LOVE the spontaneity that IS a way of life in Mongolia; 
• the wide open expanses of land. Living in a country that is nearly fence-free does something to one's spirit that is difficult to put into words;
• living in a culture where i perceive there is far less judgement and criticism--I experience it very much as a live-and-let-live experience. Again....it's a different experience of FREEDOM. We talk a lot in the U.S. about how we are free country and we support many personal freedoms. However, I'd argue we cage and box ourselves in. I know freedom far more personally here.;
• the way children can be found anywhere and are allowed to just be. Children run around restaurants and play with other children; parents aren't always confining them and making them be still. And no one is bothered--there is a collective "watching" that takes place. Also, the way older children watch after and genuinely ENJOY being with younger children. Mongolia does this really well!;
• The directness of people saying what they want and need. Some perceive this as rude, I find it refreshing!!

There are, I'm sure, many other things. Us American Wives have been discussing this topic recently on our group page. With most raising children in mixed-culture homes there is always the question of how to hold traditions of both cultures. And how to do that when the can seem so very different from one another. I can see it in my discussions with Enji. He has only seen and known the Mongolian way of life; I try to share with him a Western approach. I am not trying to say one is better; but he will have some choices in his life and will perhaps want, in some cases, to make a more Western-like choice. That's the think with teens-becoming-adults--you can give them advice and suggestions and try to show and tell them what you think is best. But in the end, they are creating their own life and have to make their own path. 

I'll stop here with my musings. I have a weekend getaway to finish packing for. It will be my last trek outside the city for a number of months. I'll  leave you with a question to reflect on....or post your thoughts on: What do you love best about American culture or society (Or your home culture, if by chance you are not one my American friends or family members)?  If someone came to live in your country from somewhere else, what would you hope or wish for them to appreciate or feel the most?

Finding the Northwoods in Mongolia

Birch and Aspen in Mongolia

I spent my childhood and early youth in the Northwoods of Michigan--both the lower peninsula (home) and the upper peninsula (where we had a rustic cabin for deer season and holidays). The earth was often damp with precipitation and layers of decaying leaves created a soft cushion for one's feet. Those woods were a mix of deciduous and evergreen. While I've enjoyed discovering other biomes--from the desert of the Southwest to the steppe of Mongolia--the sounds and smells of the Northwoods will always be my first "nature home." Too many memories of building forts, hiking trails, playing on silty riverbanks, fishing for perch in lakes, wiggling toes in Sorel boots to stay warm while deer hunting, feeding chickadees from my hand, and climbing trees to have it be otherwise. 

The Secret History Camp

A girlfriend and I traveled last weekend to the Secret History Camp located just 70 miles north of UB to enjoy our brief fall before winter sets in. I went there a year ago for the first time with my fellow American Wives and knew I'd return. It's tucked into a mountain valley just a couple of kilometers off the paved road. My favorite feature is the trees-- birch and aspen that show the colors of fall. My friend being from Minnesota and I from Michigan, we both felt an overwhelming sense of home--of NOT being in Mongolia--as we hiked farther into the woods behind the Lodge. We traveled a newly constructed two track trail, breathing in the dark and organic smells of the land as it prepares to go dormant. It had rained the night before and there was yet moisture all around us--in the air, on the leaves, on our pant legs and hiking boots. It was divine.

Fall has always been my favorite time of year--partly because of the beautiful colors that descend with the cooler temps, but also because I am a forever student and September means back-to-school. I love the buying of new notebooks and pens, meeting new teachers and getting syllabi, learning what amazing things I'd be adding to my personal hard drive. Of course now I am one of the teachers--but you see, that's the thing about education. As teachers, we are also students. We learn so much from the students we teach AND as we prepare to teach them--looking for ways to show the relevance in our content. This fall I also opted to participate in an online 5 week Writing Boot Camp through Creative Nonfiction (at the suggestion of a stateside colleague). We just completed week three and it has been good to have outside motivation to write. While I do journal most every morning, that's to clear my mental and emotional fog away for the day's tasks that lie ahead. This has been writing with a different purpose--to finish a piece I intend to submit for publication. No spoilers here--stay tuned to hear about rejections or acceptance. 

It's October 2nd as I write this and Zorig and I celebrate our first year of marriage today. The year has gone fast. I'm thankful for so many things, so many people. I have meaningful work, good friends and colleagues, and my unexpected family in Zorig and Enkhjin. Our lives are always evolving and morphing. 

Phone number displayed in cars

I want to leave you with this interesting tidbit of life in Mongolia. Parking can be tough to find in Ulaanbaatar--a city that was built for 500,000 inhabitants and now has nearly three times that--1.5 million. Parking outside in winter can be tough on car engines with -40 temps at night. There isn't much street parking and parking garages, though they are starting to pop up in the city, are yet rate. People often double-park in parking lots, blocking people in. You can imagine the rage this would cause in America--but it's not the case here. Nearly every driver has their phone number posted in clear view in the front window of their vehicle. See the photo examples here--from plastic placards (in both side and front windows) to fancily carved wooden digits. While Americans are hugely private about protecting their contact information, Mongolians put them right out in the open. Are you parked in? Well then call the number in the window and the driver will come and let you out. Bonus--you can take his departed parking spot.