Our mini chat yesterday kept recurring in my head- Mongolia is a funky country I said and I couldn’t have been proved more right. There are definitely things that still make me pause. The staring still gets to me. I think its worse than HK because even though we’re obviously western there, they’re used to ‘our sort’. Here, there’s still the sense I just waltzed off the Trans-Siberian Railway and got lost on my way to China. On one of my many walk I glanced across the street to find an entire busload of Mongolians watching me s if I’d just skipped off Saturn. The children make it worth it though. (Now we’ll have none of those jokes please…) It seems ok on the sheer principle of childlike wonder to get stared at- whether by the toddler jumping on bricks across manholes to find himself dwarfed by a strange white girl and his only response was a quiet, defeated ‘oh’, or the boy cycling so surprised that I smiled at him that he beamed back and circled me on his bike or even the small boy in a bright pink beanie who followed me for ten minutes babbling incomprehensible Mongolian. They’re just adorable. (Never fear, I shan’t be posting any of the obligatory ‘me with impoverished child’ that come out of gap years, Unless its under my arm and we’re running onto a plane). Zulaa’s two year old son has so much in common with the baby from Ice Age they might be descendants. He even ran after his mum clapping his hands for the [LAST WATERMELON] orange juice. I might have to come home with a Mongol baby. (I kid, I kid, you can put those condoms and morning after pills away).
Like you said, its strangely humbling to be surrounded by people as they speak a language of which you cannot understand a scrap. I know its only day 5 but I still haven’t got an inkling- though you always know when they’re talking about you. Whether its my name, Britain, or hand gestures its always fairly obvious and then terribly disconcerting when no one translates. Someone described the Mongolian language as sounding like two cats mating until they lose the plot and scratch each other to death. I see their point. But people said the same about German and, like you, I came to really like it. I have regressed when it comes to learning Mongolian. I spent last night in a café whilst a small girl watched in a amazement as I failed to identify various letters of the Cyrillic alphabet. When I got home I even rushed in gabbling various meaningless greetings in order to show my host mother how much I’d learnt. They’ve made a real effort with me- as neither of them speak English she asked her sister, who speaks French to come round and possibly her other sister who speaks a little English. Theres nothing more bizarre than trying to remember the conjugation of French verbs to an audience of onlooking Mongolian family members.
The complete lack of boundaries never fails to amaze but mostly delight me. Beyond the concept of Ariuna, my host sister, sharing a bed with me whilst I’m still almost a complete stranger, both she and her mother, Naryaa, will get changed in front of me or walk in whilst I’m sleeping.. Thanks god boarding school prepared me- but it goes beyond the boundaries of what we experienced. Similarly when I wanted to change into smarter clothes my colleagues at the office told me to just shut the door and go for it. I hadn’t even met half of them! But its also absolutely gorgeous.. On my last two trips home (I live about half an hours walk from work or 45 minutes from Sukhbataar Sq where my Mongolian lessons are) I haven’t walked home alone. The first time after several fearful looks from me that I had or would miss my bus stop and end up at the bus depot at midnight, a random Mongolian girl took pity and told me when to get off and then an equally random guy walked me all the way home in order to practice his English. The same happened today after a guy pulled me out of the path of an oncoming car.
Still the oddest things are the small ones
• they don’t serve or drink alcohol on the first of the month
• they don’t use knives (try eating cabbage with a spoon. Its not elegant)
• it took me days to realise Narya and Ider always picked my handbag off the floor, but apparently its because only beggars leave bags on the floor for money. Odd. But makes sense.
• They put salt in their tea. I haven’t actually experienced this one but I have been forewarned. That’s something I might not bring back with me.
I’ll add to my growing list of oddities I’m sure, but those ones are bizarre. But lovely. As ever.
Much love my darling and enjoy your last two weeks in Deutschland. I had the same homesickness leaving Oz. It’ll be hard to do that again I’m sure.
Bestival will be a riot though!
Lizzy
Like you said, its strangely humbling to be surrounded by people as they speak a language of which you cannot understand a scrap. I know its only day 5 but I still haven’t got an inkling- though you always know when they’re talking about you. Whether its my name, Britain, or hand gestures its always fairly obvious and then terribly disconcerting when no one translates. Someone described the Mongolian language as sounding like two cats mating until they lose the plot and scratch each other to death. I see their point. But people said the same about German and, like you, I came to really like it. I have regressed when it comes to learning Mongolian. I spent last night in a café whilst a small girl watched in a amazement as I failed to identify various letters of the Cyrillic alphabet. When I got home I even rushed in gabbling various meaningless greetings in order to show my host mother how much I’d learnt. They’ve made a real effort with me- as neither of them speak English she asked her sister, who speaks French to come round and possibly her other sister who speaks a little English. Theres nothing more bizarre than trying to remember the conjugation of French verbs to an audience of onlooking Mongolian family members.
The complete lack of boundaries never fails to amaze but mostly delight me. Beyond the concept of Ariuna, my host sister, sharing a bed with me whilst I’m still almost a complete stranger, both she and her mother, Naryaa, will get changed in front of me or walk in whilst I’m sleeping.. Thanks god boarding school prepared me- but it goes beyond the boundaries of what we experienced. Similarly when I wanted to change into smarter clothes my colleagues at the office told me to just shut the door and go for it. I hadn’t even met half of them! But its also absolutely gorgeous.. On my last two trips home (I live about half an hours walk from work or 45 minutes from Sukhbataar Sq where my Mongolian lessons are) I haven’t walked home alone. The first time after several fearful looks from me that I had or would miss my bus stop and end up at the bus depot at midnight, a random Mongolian girl took pity and told me when to get off and then an equally random guy walked me all the way home in order to practice his English. The same happened today after a guy pulled me out of the path of an oncoming car.
Still the oddest things are the small ones
• they don’t serve or drink alcohol on the first of the month
• they don’t use knives (try eating cabbage with a spoon. Its not elegant)
• it took me days to realise Narya and Ider always picked my handbag off the floor, but apparently its because only beggars leave bags on the floor for money. Odd. But makes sense.
• They put salt in their tea. I haven’t actually experienced this one but I have been forewarned. That’s something I might not bring back with me.
I’ll add to my growing list of oddities I’m sure, but those ones are bizarre. But lovely. As ever.
Much love my darling and enjoy your last two weeks in Deutschland. I had the same homesickness leaving Oz. It’ll be hard to do that again I’m sure.
Bestival will be a riot though!
Lizzy
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