Integration is real.

           

            So I don’t know if it is because the weather is now above 0 degrees C or because school is almost over, or maybe even because I told my teachers I have been missing home lately, but I have been integrating the shit out of this week. It all started when I decided not to go to our teachers meeting because I felt like having a pity party for one about how I miss my family and the American lifestyle of a twenty-something year old. Don’t worry it isn’t that important for me to be there anyway. They speak in Mongolian and talk about all subjects and problems the school is having, also the success stories too. But I usually go once a month just to see if I can follow what they are saying. The problem is that it usually lasts three hours. And that is a long time to not understand what someone is talking about. Anyway, I came to school the next day and some of my teachers asked if I was ok (aka why I didn’t show up). I told them the truth this time too. Usually I just brush it off and say I had a stomach bug, or was tired from the “vigorous” workday, but for some reason I felt inclined to be honest. I said I was feeling a little blue about not being with my family and not having any friends my own age. Surprisingly they became really concerned about it. It might have to do with the fact that their first volunteer left after only one year of service and they are afraid I will do the same (I would like to clear that I have no intention of cutting my service short. Rojo’s finish what they start. And yes there is only one Rojo I know of and that is me, but seeing as I can’t generalize my families name because I am trying to be more honest about shit I’m just going with it). Or maybe they are genuinely concerned about me, which would be a pleasant surprise.

             So it all started on that gloomy Thursday. Well actually now that I think about it, it was a beautiful day, but don’t stories always seem to start with bad weather? My teachers and I went to a fellow teachers house for her daughters hair cutting ceremony.

            *Side note: There is a tradition in Mongolia where children (girls 2, 4, or 6, and boys 3 or 5) shave their heads to be born again. I am still a little unclear why they choose to do this, but it’s adorable so nobody is complaining. They usually cut their hair in the morning with immediate family and spend the rest of the day preparing food and drinks for friends and family to come visit this new little bundle that now looks like a cancer patient, but with more energy. I have heard they keep some of the hair until the child is 18 and then give it to them, but I have seen no evidence of this happening. Also I don’t know what the kid would do with his hair, and I’m hoping I will never find out. Oh also guests bring a present for the little rascal, usually money and candy that they take and deliver straight to their parents. It’s kind of a nice process because this money tends to cover the cost for holding this shindig in the first place.

            Anyway, back to the story. So we are at my teacher’s house eating soup and drinking sour milk. Also this sour milk isn’t gross it is delicious I just can’t think of any other way to describe it, so just trust me. The vodka shots start going around and her husband knows I can drink so I end up taking four. It is considered rude to refuse something in another person’s house so I tend to just go with it. Also four shots in like thirty minutes just getting tipsy is kind of awesome. Thank you college for making me a heavy weight. All those years of vodka shots are finally paying off. So being a little tipsy and enjoying myself I invited my teachers over to my house on Friday to drink beer and have dinner. Kind of like to celebrate the end of the school year. Now I have done this before and nobody showed up so I wasn’t expecting anyone to come, but to my surprise it actually happened.

            It’s funny because when you plan things, it always seems to go differently than what you thought in your head. So on Friday after we cleaned around the school a couple of teachers came over and drank and chilled. It was kind of amazing. These are not English teachers I might add, so all the conversation was in Mongolian and I understood probably ninety percent of it. I made kimbob, or sushi with ham and pickles, and they gobbled it up. It was my first time really spending time with other teachers alone without another English teacher translating the whole conversation for me. Afterwards I went to the river with my haasha sister and we played in the mud. We literally splashed around in the mud and it was the most fun I have had in months.

           

The next day my haasha mom and I worked out together with Jillian Michaels (shout out to Becca for sending the best doable workout video ever). After I got ready to go to Salt Lake with my other English teacher and a few of her friends. Now I should probably give you the back story to this story. Sorry this is a long one, but I mean my life is pretty entertaining right?

So earlier in the week I went to our new gas station and helped change the decimal placement on the machines because all the instruction were in English. This alone was cool because I felt like I was finally contributing to my community, which had already been amazing to me all year. So my English teachers brother-in-law thanked us and invited us to go to Salt Lake that weekend. So here Saturday is and we hop in the car and go. Now I was expecting it to be nice and sunny and everyone would be playing outside and having a ball. But remember when I said everything is different inside your head? Yea, same thing here. It was sunny, but it was also ridiculously windy at the same time. Like so incredibly windy children had to be escorted when they were outside for fear of them blowing away. So the majority of the day was spent in the car. On the bright side I got to see and pet a two day old horse, and it was a stallion too! We also drove around the countryside a little bit and explored. Once we got to the lake people were taking some water because it was red. Apparently when it is windy the sand blows into the lake, mixes with the salt and makes a reddish tint to it. They use this for paint in the summer. Super clever right? So not a total waist that it was so windy. We watched some competitions of darts, wrestling, volleyball, and of course who could drink the a fifth of vodka the fastest without puking. To everyone’s surprise, no one could. We had horhok in the car and drank beer and chatted too. (horhok is goat that is cooked with hot rocks and is delicious. Will definitely make it back in the states.) Oh I should probably mention that it was four of us the majority of the day. Me, my English teacher Ichka, her brother-in-law, and his coworker. His coworker is actually my age, which was nice to hang out and chill with someone who didn’t have little children to go back to. And I made my first male-unmarried friend without it being weird. It only took me a year, but I am very satisfied with my success rate. By next year I will have two unmarried male friends. Hopefully…

Anyway, Sunday rolls around and it is a whole different ball game. We go to another teacher’s daughter’s hair cutting ceremony and it is actually a nice mildly windy day so I wear a dress. After we hop into another teacher’s car and drive three houses down to her house. We end up going in and drinking beer with a few of the teachers. This was also great because it was the first whimsical get together I have been to in a while. We talk about her recent remodel of her house and then somehow her photo albums get pulled out. It was adorable. We all crowded around this one book and they all explained when and where each picture was taken. I think it had been a while since they had done this because they got really into it. After a while we wandered over to the next teacher’s house had wine and did the same process, rinse and repeat. Then we went over to another teacher’s house, Myadagma, who is a little older. She had made gedec, or all the insides of an animal cooked in one boiling pot. Thankfully I have never had the pleasure of experiencing this delicacy because I tell everyone I meet almost immediately after we exchange names that I don’t eat gedec. So when we arrived all my teacher’s said, almost in unison, that Rojo doesn’t eat gedec. It was adorable and kind of awesome how protective they were of me. Myadagma being the sweetheart that she is, knew this already and gave me the one meat bone of the stew. It was scrumptious like always.

All in all I have had a pretty successful integration week. It only took me precisely one year to accomplish, but timing doesn’t matter, just the success story.

Also this is probably the last post for a while due to the fact that school is ending and that is my internet source. Also I plan to enjoy one of my last summer holidays before I have to get a real job…

Sincerely,

            Your true Mongolian friend, relative, or random person’s blog you decided to read.

PS. No pictures this time because I decided to live in the moment for once and not be a tourist. It really paid off.