My Uncle the Shaman

June 2010

During the first week in Bagakhangai, I awoke one Saturday morning around 9:30, as I routinely do, and I walk into my host family’s ger for breakfast only to find several people I have never met, a man in his late 40s I would guess and two very young ladies (maybe 25). They were sitting on the floor around the table drinking vodka and laughing with my host father and grandfather. The man was clearly well beyond hammered and he kept saying something in Mongolian to me and laughing. My father insisted I sit down at the table and handed me a small shot glass and filled it with Chinggis Vodka (the vodka of choice in Mongolia). I am not a fan of vodka, but offending drunk Mongolian men is not a wise choice. I politely did the Chinggis Khan flick (with the ring finger) for each direction: North, South, East, and West. Then I put the glass to my mouth and let the vodka touch my lips--a polite thing to do when you don’t want to drink. Anyway, I later found out this man is my father’s brother (although I’m still not completely sure). In the middle of my father and brother’s conversation, the uncle figure turned to me and said the words “bi shaman” (meaning I shaman). I turned to my father who nodded his head. I honestly did not believe the man because it was 9:30am and he had already drank approximately 8 glasses of vodka and by 10:00 he passed out for the entire day. I honestly thought this man was no shaman, unless shamans are required to be drunk early in the morning.

A few days later I was walking back home from school at the end of the day (after cross cultural class), and I walk into the host family’s ger (as my routine made me do) only to interrupt a religious ceremony. After an aunt figure who spoke English quickly ushered me to a seat and explained that the spirit of the shaman, who was several hundred years old, had entered my uncle’s body, the first thing I noticed was my host father’s brother sitting on the floor in front of a table full of food--mostly meat, milk, yogurt, and rice. The next thing that took me by surprise and creeped me out a bit was the voice of the shaman, very dark, eerie, and a bit of sore throat sound. Every sentence started with a word that sounded like “hey”. One by one, every family member crawled up to the shaman, kneeled down next to him, on hands and knees, and the exposed their back. The shaman then began to whip the family members’ backs, after a brief conversation that sounded like pleading to the shaman to not hurt them. During this ceremony my father jokingly suggested that I go up and talk to the shaman. I respectfully denied and after nearly 7 family members had their conversation with the shaman, my host father pointed to me and then pointed to the door. He was telling me to leave. I was a bit bummed because I was so interested in watching and trying to learn about Shamanism (although I have two years to learn about it).

First Contact

June 2010

The day I arrived at Bagakhangai and meet my family was awkward to say the least. The trainers preformed a skit detailing what would potentially occur during the first meeting with your Mongolian host family. The skit consisted of the American walking in, being placed at a table with lots of food, instructed to eat the food, and once finished eating, instructions for sleeping were given by the host family. And that is exactly what happened the first night I arrived to my host family’s ger.

I also gave them some gifts I bought in the States before I left. A box and beach sandals and a bag of sand (btw, the sand bag broke a bit in my suitcase and I’m still finding sand in the bottom every now and again) is what I brought them. They throughly enjoyed the gifts, even though they probably didn’t know exactly what they were and I couldn’t find a literal translation in the English-Mongolian dictionary. Well, so far they’ve been a great host family. They own a food delgur (food store) and they typically feed me food solely from their store (I suppose they don’t like to shop at other delgurs or something). They typically feed me the same thing in different forms: pasta or rice with potatoes, some veggies, and a nice hot bowl of cuu te (milk tea). I am slowly adjusting to the new diet. I haven’t had too much of anything strange to me, like goat intestines or cow stomach; some of the other trainees have told me horror stories. All is well on my front.

The Beginning to Now(ish)

June 2010.

I’m sorry to get to you readers so late in my training process, but I’ve been busy adjusting to new diets, new culture, new families, and being in school constantly. Well, I’ll start from the beginning. On June 3, 2010 I flew to San Francisco for staging, which was a lot of awkward meetings and conversations with new people, or the handful of those I met on Facebook. We were placed in a large room where we had several classes, activities, and lectures on what being a Peace Corps trainee and Volunteer means. I learned the phrase “The best job you’ll ever hate” to describe the Peace Corps and the experience one has during his/her two years.

The next day was spent in airports and airplanes. My favorite memory would be playing a drinking game during the movie Leap Year with my seat partners, Cody and Alyssa (I say it’s is my favorite memory because the game killed 2 hours of the flight for me). When we finally arrived in UB, Mongolia, the weather was rainy which is good luck in Mongolian culture (good first sign).

After waiting for 140 pieces of luggage, we all walked single file through tunnel made of current Peace Corps Volunteers (PCVs). What a greeting! After chatting with some of them, we had an hour drive to Zuunmond to a dormitory and school for orientation week. I, as well as the other 74 Peace Corps Trainees, attended the Peace Corps Orientation, which consisted of several lectures on safety, Peace Corps policies, and language classes. The trainers (current PCVs) threw a dance party for us (and I immediately thought I was at WWW camp again). The coolest part of orientation, besides the frequent tea breaks, had to have been from the first day, the Mongolian students dancing and playing the horse fiddle.

Overall, Peace Corps orientation was a fun and informative. The last day of orientation we each were given a sheet of paper with our host family’s information: names, how many dogs they have, interests, what they live in (ger or house), and occupations of the family members. My family consists of my grandfather (ovoo) Mondoon, my father (aav) Chuluunbaatar, my mother (eej) Mongi, my little brother (duu) Bojo, and my little sister (duu) Chuluuntsetseg. They all live in a Ger and often times different family members will drop in and stay for a week or two (which was interesting because the first week I was there I met a new family member every morning). We were also told what city group we would be in for training; mine was Bagakhangai

After some sappy goodbyes, we all split up in our different city groups and left the start the next phase of the adventure.

My Bagakhangai Family

The Beginning

For those of you who are reading this probably already know that I have been invited to join the Peace Corps in Mongolia as an English teacher. Insanity? I think so, but I'm up for the challenge (hmm, that might classify me as insane). For all my readers and people who randomly stumbled upon this page, let me start from the beginning.

Half way through my junior year in college, I sat myself down and thought very hard on what I wanted to do directly after college. The answer I originated was in the form of two short phrases: I want to help others and I want to travel. (In my short past, I have been to several foreign countries for pleasure and travel, and I have done some missionary type work in the Dominican Republic). I began researching some volunteer and service organizations around the country and the world. Obviously the Peace Corps came up. I had always had some natural curiosity of what the Peace Corps is and how the organization served and worked in other countries. I made an impulsive decision to apply, and the further I proceeded into the application process, the more I realized what I wanted to do with my recent future.

In case you don’t know, the application process of the Peace Corps is incredibly tedious and lengthy. I worked on the online application for nearly a year (not because it took that long, but I took my sweet time).

After I finally completed and submitted the application, I was half way through my senior year of college. In late December or early January, I received a phone call from my recruitment officer requesting an interview in Atlanta later that month (Jan 18, 2010). As soon as I made a tentative interview date, my mother graciously bought me a plane ticket to Atlanta for January 18th. I then called my recruitment officer back the same day confirming the interview date.

When I was back at school, I informed my friends and colleagues about my interview. I also made a trip to the career center to request some help from Mrs. Xuchitl Coso. She gave me several great tips for the interview setting.

Well, safe to say, the interview went smashingly. I learned more about the application process and had a free trip to Atlanta (to visit my uncle, aunt, and little cousin). A few weeks after the interview, I was mailed a packet of health care forms (the Peace Corps has to make sure I’m healthy enough I suppose). I had to visit my doctor, my dentist, and my eye doctor to both find and create some current health records so the Peace Corps could inspect me medically. I also had to have lab work done on my blood and received a few injections. I spent my whole spring break doing these little doctor visits. Exhausting.

After the medical process, I waited and waited until I received a call from my step father informing me that a fairly large package from the Peace Corps had arrived. I was sitting outside the library when he called me. I sat down and listened patiently to the sound of him opening the box (a.k.a. the invitation). While he was opening the package, he asked me what country I think they placed me in. I playfully said Mongolia because I recently was listing the countries in Asia Peace Corps Volunteers serve in to a friend and Mongolia was still fresh on my mind. Surprise Surprise. When Bruce spoke the words: “Secondary English Education in Mongolia” I was in awe. I kept saying to myself, I’m going to Mongolia. I quickly told all my friends and peers, and most of them had a similar reaction.

So since then, I’ve had several more tasks to complete (and I still feel that some have not been completed or I’m forgetting something else to do).

Here is a glance at my last month in the States:

Drivers license renewal

Took the GRE

Applying for a passport (the wrong way first, then the correct way)

Filling out Peace Corps papers and forms

Visiting with family and friends

Deferring my student loans

Buying Mongolian winter and English teacher apparel

Injecting an H1N1 vaccine

Applying for a credit card

Opening a new checking account, on account of my student one expired

And lastly, packing everything I need into a suitcase, a duffle bag (both no more than 50 lbs) and a backpack.

Since that moment I discovered where my recent future will be located, I’ve basically been physically and mentally preparing to leave the country and enter a brand new environment; or be thrown out into the wolves. With school ending and being a recent college grad, I know this is the best time to join the cause I am joining, and I am ready to dive head first into the cold winters, hot summers, new languages my tongue can barely pronounce, and the cultures of the Land Under the Blue Sky.

Here I go, off into the wild blue yonder.