mananath (![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} mananath) wrote,@ 2006-07-26 13:17:00 |
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My brief time in the Peace Corps and my even briefer time in Mongolia
Every so often I will make passing references to my trip to Mongolia a few years ago. Occasionally I have spoke of what brought me there and ultimately brought me home. At times I have thought of writing a big post about it or breaking it down into a series of smaller posts. But, as of today, I haven't done it yet. I don't know where to begin as the time was a difficult one in my life. Last night I was going through photos and decided that I would do a pictorial post of my trip to Mongolia with descriptions.
The background:
In telling the story of my trip, and eventual early departure, from Mongolia it would be easy to simply begin with: “I arrived in the country on x day” but that would be disingenuous as the planning of the trip, though I did not know this at the time, began years before.
After graduating HS I immediately entered a college (though it is now a university) and did quite poorly, so poorly in fact that I realized it would be to my and my families, benefit if I simply dropped out. This I did and almost immediately began working at Borders. I was 19 and having a great time at Borders, my promotions were virtually assured and I enjoyed the work. I didn’t feel like I missed out on anything by not going to college and though I figured I would return one day I didn’t know when that would be. I recall my friend mike mentioning to me once that it would happen, that I would just suddenly realize that it was time.
Eventually that is in fact what happened. In 2000, in a spastic fit of ambition I haven’t seen in awhile, I decided that I wanted to become a lawyer. Mind you I didn’t have any notion of what a lawyer did or the potential for this to act as a drain on my life. I just knew that lawyers are successful, simplistically I thought for the simple act of becoming a lawyer, and I certainly wanted to be successful. So I set my goal on attending law school though before I could conquer that goal I had to finish up my undergraduate degree.
I enrolled in the local community college for a year, did quite well and then transferred to a nearby (lol – I had an hour commute each way), well known, state university. My success continued unabated and my grades proved that I would soon be well on my way to becoming a lawyer. The only problem, was, as the time began to get closer to actually starting the application process I began to have doubts: “Do I really want to be a lawyer?”
During the summer of 2002 I took the LSAT and though I got a decent score (162; All of my practice exams had me in the 167-173 range) I realized it wasn’t high enough to get me into one of the top schools. At the time I considered this to be a hindrance; in time I would come to view this as a gift.
The beginning of the 2002-2003 school year, my final one, found me considering law school. I knew my score would be a liability and I knew my lack of campus involvement could also hinder me. Faced with this and the sudden strong desire not to go into law I did the only natural thing: I joined the Peace Corps.
After a few weeks preparing my application and researching the interview process I found myself nominated to a Peace Corps assignment. The way it works is you can’t “officially” choose your country, only a geographical area, but there are ways around this. After reviewing the available countries I settled on Mongolia and researched when past groups left the US and found it to be in June. I then made sure on my application that I put June as my first available date of departure. After being nominated I was faced with a daunting medical/dental clearance procedure which surprisingly I sailed through as well. Once this hurdle was overcome I got the name of the person who would review my file and emailed him suggesting my strong preference towards Mongolia. I soon found out that I would be going to Mongolia. This was in Feb.
I graduated college in the middle of May 2003 and prepared to leave my home, family and friends for a 2+ year period during which I would be living in a fancy tent (ger) on the Mongolian steppe, isolated from almost all modern luxuries. Theoretically I was excited and thrilled. Realistically I was scared and filled with doubts.
About two weeks before I left, a time filled with finals, packing and graduating I developed a severe “crick” in my neck which led me to a neurologist. An MRI later I was pronounced fine and the crick was written off as stress (it still remains to this day in a lesser degree). Days before I departed I had my goodbye dinner with friends at our local Outback. Soon after I said goodbye to the girl I had been seeing. The night before I left found me not sleeping and still packing – it’s rather difficult to pack for two years (my eventual luggage, weighing in at 99 lbs came to resemble a camping checklist).
I departed home on June 1st.
I decided to leave after about 3 weeks. There were a few competing reasons for this at the time but hindsight has borne out the validity of one: it wasn't the right place for me. Perhaps one day I will explore, here, the other reasons.
What follows, below the cut, are 26 pictures from my time in Mongolia. These are pictures of pictures so the quality isn't the best. Where appropriate I attached descriptions. enjoy!
Waiting in the South Korea airport to fly into Mongolia. It took 4 planes to get to Mongolia. I had a stopover in San Francisco (I was there about 5 days; this is where I blew out my knee -- you can imagine how much fun it was to walk around with a severe limp while carrying 100lbs of luggage), a few hours layover in Tokyo, an overnight stay in Seoul and then on to Mongolia.
This was the arrival portion of the Ulaanbattar International airport. It was a bit different than the other airports I passed through to get here. After grabbing my luggage, and passing through "customs", I had to run through a gauntlet of current PC volunteers who where to greet us. At the end of the gauntlet I was given a "traditional" mongolian food item which I promptly popped in my mouth. It would be the last time I ever ate something I was unsure of. It was a disgusting piece of cheese "curd" that I can still taste burning in my mouth. It sat in the side of the mouth until I was able to find a bathroom and properlly wash it out.
This is the outside of the airport. All the PC volunteers, which was pretty much everyone in the airport, were hearded into buses outside the airport before being taken to a "ger" village to spend the night.
</a>
This was taken the morning after I arrived. Those tents depicted are called gers (or yurts) and are what I would have been living in for 2 years had I stayed. The area where we were was actually a "tourist" trap in that these gers were all rentable. The night before we all had a giant meal here and were entertained by traditional Mongolian activities. The next few pictures are from this camp.
After leaving this camp we were taken, by bus, to Darkhan, which is Mongolia's second largest city. If i recall correctly it was about a 6 hour long drive. Darkhan was our base during the three month PC training program. It is where we had our orientation programs and where we got our shots. It's a pretty depressing town. Built entirely "new" by the soviets in the 1960s the town hasn't been improved much. It's very dirty and depressing. Finding open manholes for the sewers wasn't out of the ordinary and was a reason why it wasn't suggested that we leave the night. This wasn't a good time for me as my knee was still bothering me, even though I was given some basic first aid, I couldn't walk much and when I had to I was slow.
This is a view from the back of the hotel we were staying at. The PC members were pretty much the only guests that I saw although this did not include the town folks who would occasionally wander in, drunk, and bang on our doors. When I finally arrived in my room I quickly threw my gear on the ground and plopped down onto my bed. Unfortunately I went through the bed, discovering in the process that the wooden support beams were broken (not by me). This was one of my first trying experiences as it was difficult to get the problem corrected. I had to find someone to translate for me so they could tell the person in charge what happened. That person sent up THREE repairmen who took about 15 minutes consulting about how to fix it. This drove the "take charge" attitude of me crazy as the fix was quite apparent: just get some more wood for the bed! Eventually the problem was corrected and the bed became usable. I wish I would have taken a picture of this. This hotel was also the last place I would have a flush toilet to use but because I was constipated it didn't do me much good (I believe I went a week before finally having a bowel movement).
During our first day in Darkhan there was a ceremony during which all of the volunteers were given a traditional blue scarf. I have long since forgotten what the significance of this was but I still have the scarf. We were then entertained by a young contortionist and a traditional musician. Mongolians are known for their throat singing abilities which are really quite unique and haunting.
After a few days in Darkhan the large group of volunteers were broken up into groups of 5 and sent out into the country to live with a host family for a few weeks. This was when we would receive our language instruction and get used to living in Mongolia. The host family was supposed to provide you with a private room and a meals. It was decided, because I listed swimming as a hobby, that I would be sent to Yeroo, a small town near the Russian border. My host "dad" picked up my group and we had a fairly long, arduous drive back to the village in his van (there is only one paved highway in Mongolia, most of the driving occured on dirt tracks). I would later come to realize that my "dad" was a big merchant in town and had what passed for a mansion.
This is the view outside of the family compound. Everything behind the blue fence belonged to my host family.My family lived in the house with the green and blue roof while they rented the red roofed house to another family. That building visible in the right corner was a shower facility being constructed solely for my benefit.
This is a photo of the outside of my "room", the building on the left side with the porch. As you can see it's actually a house. This was the envy of all the other volunteers in my group as they had received just rooms. None had there own private "house".
It would turn out that my host family was pretty cool. My host dad and mom where never there as they were away for business. So I was cared for by their children. I never had it so good. I would wake them before I left for school in the morning and one of them would prepare my breakfast (fresh scrambled eggs, coffee, toast) and bring it to my room. They would always attempt to clean my room, which after finding one of the daughters on her hands and knees scrubbing my floors while I sat around reading a book, I put an end to. They would always attempt to cater to my unique culinary habits, leaving out portions of meals I didn't like and remaking things I enjoyed. They even, bless their hearts, attempted to make me pizza one night.
This is a group shot of all the kids who lived in the house and cared for me. I can barely remember their names and I can not pronounce them. The guy in the red spoke a little english and he became my life line. The guy in the white, sitting next to me, I met for the first time the day I left Yeroo (which is when this picture is from), he is married to the girl sitting next to him and they have two children. I think they were both 18-19 at the time. One of their children, Batuhka (spelled phonetically), pictured on her lap, took a liking to me but could be very annoying.
When I wasn't in school I would hang out in my room and read. or I would play chess with one of the kids (I never lost, although one of the young girls gave me a run for my money a few times). I would swim in the nearby river. I would watch TV. Their TV got in about two channels and Seventh Heaven was broadcast every day, except in Mongolia it was called 'The American Family". I hated that show in America and I hated it even more in Mongolia when I was forced to watch it every day in it's double dubbed form (English--> Russian--> Mongolian).
This photo, and the next photo, are of my room. As you can see I had a pretty sweet setup! That desk is where I would take most of my meals (always lunch and breakfast). Also pictured is my water purifier which caused me a lot of trouble. The nipple would never fit correctly over the bottle and would frequently spill precious water over the floor. It would also often short out the power outlet it was using. My first night at the house, I set it up in their living room and it spewed hot water all over their rug. They kept trying to tell me something was wrong but I insisted it was all right (after all I had read the directions). I was very embarrassed and felt terrible when I discovered what had happened.
The bed was quite comfortable and even though it was June the nights were very cool. I would always read before going to bed, using my awesome headlamp as a light source.
This a picture of the river where I would swim and bath. It was only about 3 minutes from my house. On one of my first trips to the river, with my host family, I was verbally harangued by some local. I never got the translation but judging by his tone and his actions I don't think he liked the fact that I was swimming where he was trying to fish. The guy in my family who spoke a little english would just say "stupid people". Thankfully the problem was resolved when my host sister (in black shirt, pictured above) literally beat the crap out of the guy with a stick. The river was ours again and I continued swimming back and forth. One afternoon, spying a bunch of kids at the river and thinking this contained some of the members of my host family, I walked down to go for a swim. I quickly realized that I didn't know any of the 20 or so kids who where hanging out there. Faced with a choice of either turning around and looking silly or continuing with my plan I decided to go swimming. I greeted them all with the traditional Mongolian greeting (which was the extent of my language abilities), Sain nu, and they all laughed at me. I jumped in the river while they all stared at me. It was very akward and the swim was not a pleasant, or long, one. But I'd be damned if I would be chased away by some kids. So what if I was a visitor, who couldn't speak their language, in their town. I'm American, damn it, I go where I please. LOL!
The river also provided some delicious fish.
At one point I got to meet the mayor of Yeroo. I was in so much better shape then -- look how buff I look! :)
For most of my days in Yeroo I was in school, learning language. Or rather attending language lessons. I have never been good with languages and was having a lot of difficulty picking up Mongolian (one of the hardest languages around as it is an isolated language). It's funny, when placed in this environment, I discovered that a lot of HS spanish, that I thought I had forgotten, came back to me. It was the only "foreign" language that my brain knew and thought it would be useful. It wasn't.
In the right hand corner you will see a picture of Yeroo's school. This is where all of our language lessons took place.
Yeroo is a village surrounded by hills and mountains. This picture is taken from outside of my house looking into town. This was the road I walked to school everyday, it took about 15 minutes. In town there were a few general stores (one of which included my host dads) where you could buy assorted snacks and beer (oddly, they didn't sell it by the case there). I think I bought out all of the snickers bars that could be had. I still shopped around for price, though I didn't bargain. The PC gave us walking around money and a stipend. One of the last things I did while in Yeroo was to hike along that entire ridge line, with 3 other volunteers. I was always holding up the rear as I limped along with my knee, which by now was doing better.
This is a view of Yeroo as we began our ascent up the large hill. Hours later, while sitting along the river bank by myself, I decided that I was going to drop out and come home.
This is what we found at the peak of the hill. It's an "ovoo" which has some sacredness to it. I am not sure of what kind. The cynic in me found it an excuse to litter as you are supposed to add things to it and most of the added items were garbage. I think I added something to it although I don't remember as at the time I was contemplating the descent, which would really aggravate my knee.
This is a photo of me with my training group, minutes before I left Yeroo. When I finally made the call into PC HDQ, a day after the hike, I was told that I would have to hang out a day in Yeroo before I could be picked up. I was shocked when a driver arrived 3 hours later to collect me and my things. I hadn't packed, I hadn't told my host family I was leaving yet. It was very akward and rushed. But, I couldn't argue with it, i was going home. or so I thought.
Leaving the PC is just as difficult as getting in. It wasn't simply a matter of saying "i want to go home" and you were instantly on a plane. No, I had to first return to Darkhan and return some of the items given to me by the PC. Then I was driven up to Ulaanbattar which is where the PC main Mongolia HDQ is for an exit interview. All in all I spent about 3 days in the capital wandering around town. I used the computer at the PC office and I was staying in a hostel. I watched some bad movies and explored the capital. I did a lot of walking.
This is the entrance to the PC main Mongolian office. It was right next to the French embassy. Which was a pretty sorry looking affair compared to the Russian embassy, on the other side of town, which was a multi block compound.
This is the entrance to the hostel I stayed at while in UB. It was a nice hostel with cool backpackers. I wasn't in the best of mood most of the time, given my situation.
And finally, here are a few photos of UB:
This is the main commercial district of UB, that building in the distance is a shopping mall although I never went in to it.
Another angle of the same strip. That blue building in the distance is home to the Mongolian circus.
And finally, a random shrine in the middle of UB.
Every so often I will make passing references to my trip to Mongolia a few years ago. Occasionally I have spoke of what brought me there and ultimately brought me home. At times I have thought of writing a big post about it or breaking it down into a series of smaller posts. But, as of today, I haven't done it yet. I don't know where to begin as the time was a difficult one in my life. Last night I was going through photos and decided that I would do a pictorial post of my trip to Mongolia with descriptions.
The background:
In telling the story of my trip, and eventual early departure, from Mongolia it would be easy to simply begin with: “I arrived in the country on x day” but that would be disingenuous as the planning of the trip, though I did not know this at the time, began years before.
After graduating HS I immediately entered a college (though it is now a university) and did quite poorly, so poorly in fact that I realized it would be to my and my families, benefit if I simply dropped out. This I did and almost immediately began working at Borders. I was 19 and having a great time at Borders, my promotions were virtually assured and I enjoyed the work. I didn’t feel like I missed out on anything by not going to college and though I figured I would return one day I didn’t know when that would be. I recall my friend mike mentioning to me once that it would happen, that I would just suddenly realize that it was time.
Eventually that is in fact what happened. In 2000, in a spastic fit of ambition I haven’t seen in awhile, I decided that I wanted to become a lawyer. Mind you I didn’t have any notion of what a lawyer did or the potential for this to act as a drain on my life. I just knew that lawyers are successful, simplistically I thought for the simple act of becoming a lawyer, and I certainly wanted to be successful. So I set my goal on attending law school though before I could conquer that goal I had to finish up my undergraduate degree.
I enrolled in the local community college for a year, did quite well and then transferred to a nearby (lol – I had an hour commute each way), well known, state university. My success continued unabated and my grades proved that I would soon be well on my way to becoming a lawyer. The only problem, was, as the time began to get closer to actually starting the application process I began to have doubts: “Do I really want to be a lawyer?”
During the summer of 2002 I took the LSAT and though I got a decent score (162; All of my practice exams had me in the 167-173 range) I realized it wasn’t high enough to get me into one of the top schools. At the time I considered this to be a hindrance; in time I would come to view this as a gift.
The beginning of the 2002-2003 school year, my final one, found me considering law school. I knew my score would be a liability and I knew my lack of campus involvement could also hinder me. Faced with this and the sudden strong desire not to go into law I did the only natural thing: I joined the Peace Corps.
After a few weeks preparing my application and researching the interview process I found myself nominated to a Peace Corps assignment. The way it works is you can’t “officially” choose your country, only a geographical area, but there are ways around this. After reviewing the available countries I settled on Mongolia and researched when past groups left the US and found it to be in June. I then made sure on my application that I put June as my first available date of departure. After being nominated I was faced with a daunting medical/dental clearance procedure which surprisingly I sailed through as well. Once this hurdle was overcome I got the name of the person who would review my file and emailed him suggesting my strong preference towards Mongolia. I soon found out that I would be going to Mongolia. This was in Feb.
I graduated college in the middle of May 2003 and prepared to leave my home, family and friends for a 2+ year period during which I would be living in a fancy tent (ger) on the Mongolian steppe, isolated from almost all modern luxuries. Theoretically I was excited and thrilled. Realistically I was scared and filled with doubts.
About two weeks before I left, a time filled with finals, packing and graduating I developed a severe “crick” in my neck which led me to a neurologist. An MRI later I was pronounced fine and the crick was written off as stress (it still remains to this day in a lesser degree). Days before I departed I had my goodbye dinner with friends at our local Outback. Soon after I said goodbye to the girl I had been seeing. The night before I left found me not sleeping and still packing – it’s rather difficult to pack for two years (my eventual luggage, weighing in at 99 lbs came to resemble a camping checklist).
I departed home on June 1st.
I decided to leave after about 3 weeks. There were a few competing reasons for this at the time but hindsight has borne out the validity of one: it wasn't the right place for me. Perhaps one day I will explore, here, the other reasons.
What follows, below the cut, are 26 pictures from my time in Mongolia. These are pictures of pictures so the quality isn't the best. Where appropriate I attached descriptions. enjoy!
Waiting in the South Korea airport to fly into Mongolia. It took 4 planes to get to Mongolia. I had a stopover in San Francisco (I was there about 5 days; this is where I blew out my knee -- you can imagine how much fun it was to walk around with a severe limp while carrying 100lbs of luggage), a few hours layover in Tokyo, an overnight stay in Seoul and then on to Mongolia.
This was the arrival portion of the Ulaanbattar International airport. It was a bit different than the other airports I passed through to get here. After grabbing my luggage, and passing through "customs", I had to run through a gauntlet of current PC volunteers who where to greet us. At the end of the gauntlet I was given a "traditional" mongolian food item which I promptly popped in my mouth. It would be the last time I ever ate something I was unsure of. It was a disgusting piece of cheese "curd" that I can still taste burning in my mouth. It sat in the side of the mouth until I was able to find a bathroom and properlly wash it out.
This is the outside of the airport. All the PC volunteers, which was pretty much everyone in the airport, were hearded into buses outside the airport before being taken to a "ger" village to spend the night.
</a>This was taken the morning after I arrived. Those tents depicted are called gers (or yurts) and are what I would have been living in for 2 years had I stayed. The area where we were was actually a "tourist" trap in that these gers were all rentable. The night before we all had a giant meal here and were entertained by traditional Mongolian activities. The next few pictures are from this camp.
After leaving this camp we were taken, by bus, to Darkhan, which is Mongolia's second largest city. If i recall correctly it was about a 6 hour long drive. Darkhan was our base during the three month PC training program. It is where we had our orientation programs and where we got our shots. It's a pretty depressing town. Built entirely "new" by the soviets in the 1960s the town hasn't been improved much. It's very dirty and depressing. Finding open manholes for the sewers wasn't out of the ordinary and was a reason why it wasn't suggested that we leave the night. This wasn't a good time for me as my knee was still bothering me, even though I was given some basic first aid, I couldn't walk much and when I had to I was slow.
This is a view from the back of the hotel we were staying at. The PC members were pretty much the only guests that I saw although this did not include the town folks who would occasionally wander in, drunk, and bang on our doors. When I finally arrived in my room I quickly threw my gear on the ground and plopped down onto my bed. Unfortunately I went through the bed, discovering in the process that the wooden support beams were broken (not by me). This was one of my first trying experiences as it was difficult to get the problem corrected. I had to find someone to translate for me so they could tell the person in charge what happened. That person sent up THREE repairmen who took about 15 minutes consulting about how to fix it. This drove the "take charge" attitude of me crazy as the fix was quite apparent: just get some more wood for the bed! Eventually the problem was corrected and the bed became usable. I wish I would have taken a picture of this. This hotel was also the last place I would have a flush toilet to use but because I was constipated it didn't do me much good (I believe I went a week before finally having a bowel movement).
During our first day in Darkhan there was a ceremony during which all of the volunteers were given a traditional blue scarf. I have long since forgotten what the significance of this was but I still have the scarf. We were then entertained by a young contortionist and a traditional musician. Mongolians are known for their throat singing abilities which are really quite unique and haunting.
After a few days in Darkhan the large group of volunteers were broken up into groups of 5 and sent out into the country to live with a host family for a few weeks. This was when we would receive our language instruction and get used to living in Mongolia. The host family was supposed to provide you with a private room and a meals. It was decided, because I listed swimming as a hobby, that I would be sent to Yeroo, a small town near the Russian border. My host "dad" picked up my group and we had a fairly long, arduous drive back to the village in his van (there is only one paved highway in Mongolia, most of the driving occured on dirt tracks). I would later come to realize that my "dad" was a big merchant in town and had what passed for a mansion.
This is the view outside of the family compound. Everything behind the blue fence belonged to my host family.My family lived in the house with the green and blue roof while they rented the red roofed house to another family. That building visible in the right corner was a shower facility being constructed solely for my benefit.
This is a photo of the outside of my "room", the building on the left side with the porch. As you can see it's actually a house. This was the envy of all the other volunteers in my group as they had received just rooms. None had there own private "house".
It would turn out that my host family was pretty cool. My host dad and mom where never there as they were away for business. So I was cared for by their children. I never had it so good. I would wake them before I left for school in the morning and one of them would prepare my breakfast (fresh scrambled eggs, coffee, toast) and bring it to my room. They would always attempt to clean my room, which after finding one of the daughters on her hands and knees scrubbing my floors while I sat around reading a book, I put an end to. They would always attempt to cater to my unique culinary habits, leaving out portions of meals I didn't like and remaking things I enjoyed. They even, bless their hearts, attempted to make me pizza one night.
This is a group shot of all the kids who lived in the house and cared for me. I can barely remember their names and I can not pronounce them. The guy in the red spoke a little english and he became my life line. The guy in the white, sitting next to me, I met for the first time the day I left Yeroo (which is when this picture is from), he is married to the girl sitting next to him and they have two children. I think they were both 18-19 at the time. One of their children, Batuhka (spelled phonetically), pictured on her lap, took a liking to me but could be very annoying.
When I wasn't in school I would hang out in my room and read. or I would play chess with one of the kids (I never lost, although one of the young girls gave me a run for my money a few times). I would swim in the nearby river. I would watch TV. Their TV got in about two channels and Seventh Heaven was broadcast every day, except in Mongolia it was called 'The American Family". I hated that show in America and I hated it even more in Mongolia when I was forced to watch it every day in it's double dubbed form (English--> Russian--> Mongolian).
This photo, and the next photo, are of my room. As you can see I had a pretty sweet setup! That desk is where I would take most of my meals (always lunch and breakfast). Also pictured is my water purifier which caused me a lot of trouble. The nipple would never fit correctly over the bottle and would frequently spill precious water over the floor. It would also often short out the power outlet it was using. My first night at the house, I set it up in their living room and it spewed hot water all over their rug. They kept trying to tell me something was wrong but I insisted it was all right (after all I had read the directions). I was very embarrassed and felt terrible when I discovered what had happened.
The bed was quite comfortable and even though it was June the nights were very cool. I would always read before going to bed, using my awesome headlamp as a light source.
This a picture of the river where I would swim and bath. It was only about 3 minutes from my house. On one of my first trips to the river, with my host family, I was verbally harangued by some local. I never got the translation but judging by his tone and his actions I don't think he liked the fact that I was swimming where he was trying to fish. The guy in my family who spoke a little english would just say "stupid people". Thankfully the problem was resolved when my host sister (in black shirt, pictured above) literally beat the crap out of the guy with a stick. The river was ours again and I continued swimming back and forth. One afternoon, spying a bunch of kids at the river and thinking this contained some of the members of my host family, I walked down to go for a swim. I quickly realized that I didn't know any of the 20 or so kids who where hanging out there. Faced with a choice of either turning around and looking silly or continuing with my plan I decided to go swimming. I greeted them all with the traditional Mongolian greeting (which was the extent of my language abilities), Sain nu, and they all laughed at me. I jumped in the river while they all stared at me. It was very akward and the swim was not a pleasant, or long, one. But I'd be damned if I would be chased away by some kids. So what if I was a visitor, who couldn't speak their language, in their town. I'm American, damn it, I go where I please. LOL!
The river also provided some delicious fish.
At one point I got to meet the mayor of Yeroo. I was in so much better shape then -- look how buff I look! :)
For most of my days in Yeroo I was in school, learning language. Or rather attending language lessons. I have never been good with languages and was having a lot of difficulty picking up Mongolian (one of the hardest languages around as it is an isolated language). It's funny, when placed in this environment, I discovered that a lot of HS spanish, that I thought I had forgotten, came back to me. It was the only "foreign" language that my brain knew and thought it would be useful. It wasn't.
In the right hand corner you will see a picture of Yeroo's school. This is where all of our language lessons took place.
Yeroo is a village surrounded by hills and mountains. This picture is taken from outside of my house looking into town. This was the road I walked to school everyday, it took about 15 minutes. In town there were a few general stores (one of which included my host dads) where you could buy assorted snacks and beer (oddly, they didn't sell it by the case there). I think I bought out all of the snickers bars that could be had. I still shopped around for price, though I didn't bargain. The PC gave us walking around money and a stipend. One of the last things I did while in Yeroo was to hike along that entire ridge line, with 3 other volunteers. I was always holding up the rear as I limped along with my knee, which by now was doing better.
This is a view of Yeroo as we began our ascent up the large hill. Hours later, while sitting along the river bank by myself, I decided that I was going to drop out and come home.
This is what we found at the peak of the hill. It's an "ovoo" which has some sacredness to it. I am not sure of what kind. The cynic in me found it an excuse to litter as you are supposed to add things to it and most of the added items were garbage. I think I added something to it although I don't remember as at the time I was contemplating the descent, which would really aggravate my knee.
This is a photo of me with my training group, minutes before I left Yeroo. When I finally made the call into PC HDQ, a day after the hike, I was told that I would have to hang out a day in Yeroo before I could be picked up. I was shocked when a driver arrived 3 hours later to collect me and my things. I hadn't packed, I hadn't told my host family I was leaving yet. It was very akward and rushed. But, I couldn't argue with it, i was going home. or so I thought.
Leaving the PC is just as difficult as getting in. It wasn't simply a matter of saying "i want to go home" and you were instantly on a plane. No, I had to first return to Darkhan and return some of the items given to me by the PC. Then I was driven up to Ulaanbattar which is where the PC main Mongolia HDQ is for an exit interview. All in all I spent about 3 days in the capital wandering around town. I used the computer at the PC office and I was staying in a hostel. I watched some bad movies and explored the capital. I did a lot of walking.
This is the entrance to the PC main Mongolian office. It was right next to the French embassy. Which was a pretty sorry looking affair compared to the Russian embassy, on the other side of town, which was a multi block compound.
This is the entrance to the hostel I stayed at while in UB. It was a nice hostel with cool backpackers. I wasn't in the best of mood most of the time, given my situation.
And finally, here are a few photos of UB:
This is the main commercial district of UB, that building in the distance is a shopping mall although I never went in to it.
Another angle of the same strip. That blue building in the distance is home to the Mongolian circus.
And finally, a random shrine in the middle of UB.
