Hodoo fever

So, it was Valentine’s Day last week. I realized it was V-day when Naasa gave me a card and some candy. Yes, I’d forgotten. It’s just not the same without the guilt inducing consumerism. I actually had checked the date earlier in the day and February 14th didn’t register at all. Luckily, I had some heart shaped candy (thanks mom), wine, and candles so I managed to salvage a romantic evening. I also cooked dinner, so give me some credit. Naasa asked if I could cook any Mongolian food. I told her that I’d made buuz and hosher last summer. Of course, that was part of my cultural training and we were heavily supervised. She said that she would come over later and show me how to make Tsoyvin (usually noodles, mutton, and vegetables). It was good and I helped. I pretty much just cut the meat and vegetables. Those months as a prep cook at Bradley's are really paying off. I tried taking a picture of Naasa cooking, but she didn’t want to look at the camera. Women.

Actually, it’s amazing how many things about dating a Mongolian are the same as they would be with an American. People gossip so she doesn’t want to tell people at work we’re dating. She tries to introduce me to her friends and I don’t have much to say. Of course, she doesn’t want many people to know she’s dating a foreigner and I’m bad enough at small talk in English. I thought about the whole interracial dating issue after we’d been going out for a while. I mean, technically, I’m dating an Asian girl, but I live in Asia. You’re perspective really changes when you live outside of America. Maybe these issues should be thornier for me, but now I’m just concentrating on learning more Mongolian so I have more to talk about. Naasa is working on her English too and using the dictionary hasn’t gotten old yet. We meet each other halfway in text messages. I guess that’s a good sign.

It should be a big week. People from Uvurkhangai are coming up to help make a work plan for me. I’m not sure how much will change though. Mercy Corps has had volunteers for a while, but they’ve always been in Gobi Initiative offices which are much bigger. There’s always someone to work with the volunteer and several English speakers around. With my RASP office, they’ve never worked with a volunteer before and they just hired me a translator with passable English. Naturally, they don’t understand why I don’t perform like other volunteers they’ve heard about. It’s as if you took a top athlete and said “he performs really well here on Earth. Let’s put him on Mars and see how he does…oh, he’s doing so good. He must be lazy.” The Peace Corps seminar I’m going to next week is about project development and management (PDM). I’m taking Enkhee the bar/restaurant owner. He wants to set up an internet café in Tsenkher soum. If things don’t pick up at work, I want to spend more time on outside projects. After this trip I have three months with no travel planned. I should have a chance to teach more and get things done. I hope.

New Moon

Yesterday Tsetserleg celebrated the first full moon of the (lunar) New Year. A lam from UB came out to our monastery to bless people. At least that's what I think he was doing. I still don't know much about Buddhism. I didn't even know it was a special night until Naasa came by and said her and some friends were going to the monastery. She did a little prayer bow to make sure I understood what she meant. Cute. When we got there, I saw something I'd never seen in Mongolia before. Mongols were in a line. Usually they just elbow up to a counter and shove whatever their holding at the teller/clerk. I even wrote an onionesque story for our newsletter about a volunteer spending his entire service in a store, because he thought he had to wait his turn. Anyway, it turns out that the line was being enforced by the police, because the president was on his way. I didn't actually see him, but a nine SUV convoy with police escort did come and go quickly. He also went by the government house later and talked to Naasa and other workers. I didn't go though. I'd seen him before. After the president left, everyone lunged through the one door through the fence. The police did a good job of making sure no one was crushed and once inside the fence there was a reasonable line.

Inside the monastery people filed by various shrines and approached the lam. His bouncers let one person through at a time and then he tapped you on the head with a little brass thing. Funny, I don't feel different. There was also more candle lighting on the mountain. Hopefully, this marks the end of the new year season. People are still trickling back into town/schools from greeting in the countryside. The market manager, who I'm working on a business plan with, checked into the local hospital last week. She may be sick, but I think she just went in for a rest. My teacher this summer scheduled a three day stay after training was over.

No other news for now. Next week, people from the Uvurkhangai office are coming up to help my staff do a work plan for me. They have a lot more experience with volunteers and how to use them. I want to be a lot busier. RASP offices have a lot fewer employees and no dedicated translators (until my office hired their first for me) so it's hard to get one on one attention. I just want to accomplish as much as other business volunteers here. Working with new clients this year and helping with the trade fair should give me the opportunity.

Meet the parents

I made it through Tsagaan Sar reasonably unscathed. The Peace Corps training and advice from other volunteers came in handy. I only visited four homes, so I wasn’t overwhelmed. The holiday itself revolves around visiting other people’s houses. It’s kind of a cross between Thanksgiving Day and a pub-crawl time three. Each household prepares the exact same food and goes through the same rituals. In America, people would try to make theirs unique and outdo each other. Here things are very tradition oriented. You go in and greet everyone in the room by holding your arms out palms up below (or above if you’re older) the other person’s. Then, you eat potato salad, some sheep meat, and finally buuz. The whole time you’re also drinking milk tea, berry juice, and rounds of vodka shots. At the end of the visit, you look at photo albums and exchange gifts.

When I went to coworkers houses, the visit was perfunctory. It was just like any other work party. At my girlfriend’s brother’s ger, things were more festive. Oh yeah, I have a girlfriend now. I haven’t really told anyone back home, so this is my coming out post. I was going to tell my brother, but he’d probably blog about it before me. He’s even worse at keeping secrets than I am. We’d make terrible, terrible spies. Not being an incrementalist, I didn’t think it was worth the time to tell people individually. Hope you don’t mind.

Here are some preemptive FAQ answers:

Here name is Naasanjargal
She is 26 and her birthday is February 28th
She works for a judge and plans to be come one herself after getting work experience
We speak mostly in Mongolian so my language and texting has had to improve
We are not married

Peace Corps had a special cross-cultural training session about sex and dating. They went over what Mongolians expect from a relationship with an American. A lot of them expect you to stay or take them home with you. We discussed me leaving in two years and it hasn’t come up again. It’s common for male volunteers to have Mongol girlfriends. It’s less common for female volunteers to have Mongol boyfriends, mostly because young Mongol guys tend to be assholes. That is, except for Enkhee who owns the bar where I met Naasa. Enkhee is awesome.

This post should be the talk of the water cooler tomorrow. Feel free to comment. Here’s one last thing. When I was in grad school at UW, I had a friend named Paul who had taught English in Korea for several years. He had a girlfriend who he stayed with even after he came back to America. I was joking with him once about it and I said he was like a GI with a local girl. When he heard I was joining Peace Corps he said, “just you wait”. Thanks for the heads up Paul.