Tsaatan Community Project

Curious to know what I’m doing riding that poor reindeer? Well, first and foremost, that little deer took me 4 hours through sinking marshes, rugged mountain passes, snow drifts, rivers and rocks, and didn’t falter once. In fact, my little guy was always booking it to be leader of the pack and I barely had to do a thing but sit back and hold on. 

This reindeer is one of only 600ish left herded by Mongolia’s smallest ethnic group called the Tsaatan (Reindeer Herders) in Northern Khovsgol Aimag, Mongolia. This remote area, the world’s largest biome (FACT; National Geographic), is called The Taiga. The communities, The Tsaatan, are a tough but dwindling population due to children leaving their families for higher education, short life spans, and disease and injury due to the hardships of nomadic lifestyle. Total people currently hovers around 260. Their reindeer herds are also endangered due to parasites, wolves, climate change, loss of habitat due to unregulated mining and climate change, and inbreeding.

EXCERPT (this is the point in the infomercial when the music turns from dreary to cheery, and us Peace Corps volunteers come in to save the day….)

A fellow volunteer mentioned to me last year a summer English project he did with this community. I was immediately intrigued and sought him out to get involved. He put me in contact with a Mongolian English teacher in Khovsgol who works closely with the Tsaatan. With the help of Serdamba, the English teacher, and phrase master of “In this case”, and “oh, my god” (Which is adorable until your trying to get something done), we assessed the health needs of the Tsaatan and wrote a small grant together to print health education materials for classes and donate some oral hygiene supplies, with the goal of creating some sustainable health improvement practices. Friends of Mongolia funded our project, an organization comprised of mostly returned Mongolia Peace Corps Volunteers.

Me and Serdamba 

As popularity in the project grew exponentially in the Peace Corps Mongolia community we soon had a group of about 22 volunteers and the Peace Corps office on our back to get this project in motion. There are two main communities in the Taiga where the Tsaatan live, East and West, so we split the group in two, equally dividing English Teachers, Youth Development Volunteers, Health Volunteers and for my lucky group, one Business Volunteer to implement it.

With the goals to teach English, hold health and environment classes and have some basic health screenings for adults, and for an unique cultural adventure, our groups were loaded with books, teaching materials, health equipment, and teepee material, for us to make a place for this to all go down. I’d like to say we packed lightly but with our food and belongings, my group had 5 packhorses overloaded. For 11 people and for 10 days, that might not be too bad.

To backtrack a bit, you may notice this isn’t any ol’ project. One committed implied that they were down for traveling a minimum of 30 hours on an unpaved mountainous road from Ulaanbaatar to Tsaagaanuur, and another 4-8 hours by horseback depending on trail conditions. It also guaranteed that you wouldn’t know when your next shower would be and that you are a fine adapter to B.O.

Our groups traveled together until Tsaagaanuur, the northernmost town in the Taiga, and where we had planned to pick up our Mongolian steeds, and head in our respective directions. With the typical late arrival of our horse guides (and mounts), they came at 12pm instead of 8am, we opted to drive as far as our poragons (Russian vans) could go to save daylight, and let the guides gallop the horses.

I convinced the guides to let me join the gallop, which was surreal. I’ve had my fair share of galloping, but in a group of 24 half-wild endurance horses (not our typical slender bluegrass beauties, but real stocky, solid, and hardy guys) that vibe is taken to the next level. It was exhilarating, and even more surreal was passing other wild herds who would race past us whinnying and bucking freely, just staying far enough to not intermingle. These horses have an amazing endurance capacity, and when we would slow to a walk to let them rest, they would be pulling to run again a few minutes later.

When we caught up to the van 2 hours later, our guides began alternating vodka shots while packing our horses, and when all was packed and mounted the only sober guide, this young boy, took the lead while the four others wavering in their saddles, hung in the back with the packhorses. Someone had suggested that a nice gesture before our trip is to give the guides a bottle of vodka. As seasoned volunteers, we should have seen that as a road to trouble. They individually purchased three more bottles, which we found later at our camp.

Afraid that we were going to leave our guides in the dust, and being new buddy-buddies with the guys now that they had seen me ride, I joined them in the back offering nuts and water. Chatting friendly for while, we kept moving, losing a packhorse every now and then. When one guy took a face plant off his horse to the ground, they passed me his packhorse and shooed me up ahead. 

                                          The main troublemaker out of our guides...

To sum it up, it was a slow going 4 hours, not only did we have some faulty guides but the trail was sloppy and the horses were exhausted. When we arrived at a small Tsaatan camp, what we later learned to be the spring camp, we were told this is where we would stop and camp for the night, and ride again in the morning. When morning came we were informed that the summer camp, where the majority of the West Taiga Tsaatan were heading was another 2 -day ride from where we were, and the guides wouldn’t take us. We chatted briefly with some of the Tsaatan and they said more families would come back to the spring camp for our lessons and that we should just sit tight.

After the guides left, the Tsaatan families at our camp, about 4 at that point, came over and graciously helped us find branches and set up our Teepee, they even gave us some extra material and a stove to cook on. We soon started playing games with the children and trying to set up times for the health and English classes.

On the second day our main Tsaatan family contact came over to our camp for health screenings and told us they would be leaving the next day for the summer camp. They invited 4 of us to ride with them if we wanted, saying it’s only a day trek. Slightly confused, since we thought that family would be staying, we asked some more clarifying questions (with our limited Mongolian, and their accents it made it difficult to communicate, but with no translator, we worked with what we had). Communication within the Tsaatan is mainly through word of mouth when passing others on a trail (phone service is limited to the top of a few mountains) and since all families were supposedly heading to the summer camp, we figured we should go there if we wanted to access the majority of the community, and the kids to teach English. 6 us jumped on the opportunity and we left that afternoon with minimal supplies, two walking and 4 on reindeer.

The trail to the West Taiga summer camp was tough, but beautiful, and the “two-day” trek turned out to be 4 hours. Riding the reindeers was cool, it took a bit to balance since they’re so skinny, but they’re most definitely built for their environment and are extremely surefooted. They don't spook, and only offered a fight when trying to keep them from grazing. The “bridles” are tied just around they’re antlers, and you only have one rope to steer from, but with their herd instinct they follow in line pretty easily.  I also have always imagined reindeer as majestic, but they snort like pigs, and pant like a dog when their hot. Our guides, a young couple, were adorable, Huyaga was riding a beautiful, but spooky light bay stallion that tripped, stumbled and jumped at every stone, and his wife rode a reindeer with four trailing pack reindeers. She sat basically bareback and would swing her legs around like a child, right at home, loving the ride.

We were warmly greeted at the summer camp early evening with fresh homemade sourdough bread and Reindeer Milk (quite fatty but rich and tasty). After riding in wind and rain and alternating the 2 walkers, we all had soaked feet, and it was a welcomed relief. They set up a Teepee for us and gave us a solar panel for a light. We made dinner and headed to bed.

The next morning I met with the Emee (grandmother) of the West Taiga, and took blood pressures and BMI of some of the adults and talked briefly about their diet, health concerns and questions. Since I’m no doctor, and conversation was basic, I mainly shared the information I brought concerning their needs and suggested they try to cut down on their salt and fat intake and do some stretching to ease their back pains. The men of the community were all out on a trek to find wood, so I just screened the women and found that most have borderline to high BP’s and are typically a little overweight (surprisingly, with all the manual labor). They have little to cook with; flour, dried meat, reindeer milk, which they make into cheese and other hard dairy products. They use salt to season everything, with a little wild onion in the spring in summer. With little access to anything else, and as nomads, with little income, getting fruits and veggies into their diet is near impossible.

The Tsaatan children had runny noses, coughs and bumps and bruises from handling the reindeer, BUT are happy, lively and tough. We only stayed two nights and had one full day, but during our time we played games, had health and English lessons, and hung out with the kids as they did their work milking or taking the reindeer out to pasture.

We headed back to the spring camp the next afternoon, with our same adopted parents, all on reindeer and took a more direct trail straight up a mountain. We had to hike down most of it due to steepness, loose rocks, and snow banks. When we arrived back at there were only two families left, but the volunteers who had stayed back had created close bonds with those children and families.

With few kids to teach, our last few days were spent relaxing in the woods, fishing with our Shaman neighbor (but only he caught anything), hanging out and practicing English, and teaching how to play Frisbee and hacky sack to the older kids and adults. Overall, I felt our project went well despite the setback of being at the wrong camp, and having fewer kids/adult to work with. But, the Tsaatan welcome us back and with our new connections, we hope planning for next year will work out better!

It’s Naadam time again in Mongolia, so I get a three day holiday off to enjoy wrestling, Archery, Horse racing and lots of huushur eating!

Sending my best to everyone!

-Gracie

New years, round two; Tsagaan Sar

Tsagaan Sar = White Month

First off, in my last post I falsely stated that this is the year of the Dragon. I stand corrected, 2012 was the year of the dragon, but 2013 is the year of the SNAKE and as my Peace Corps weekly update enlightened me, “the year of the snake brings many disruptions and worries.” Well, snap. The year of the Dragon stated that it would be rainy and floods may occur, it didn’t lie. We had flash floods on my birthday last year and it tore up the streets in Erdenet. These predictions aren’t kidding.

Watch out for disruptions and worries. And hang on tight for 2014, the year of the horse, because it’s said to be rather disturbing as well. What? Who writes these? What a downer.

Anyway, you ask what is Tsagaan Sar? Well, it’s the celebration of the lunar New Year, and depending on the phases of the moon each year the Lunar New Years comes on a different day, between the end of January and early March. This year it was February 11th-13th.

Tsagaan Sar is the second biggest national holiday to Nadaam in Mongolia and it’s celebrated for at least three days, although some celebrate for weeks, or up to a month.

One volunteer recently described TS in Amerik terms as a combination of Halloween and Thanksgiving. I think that's pretty accurate as odd as it sounds. It’s like Halloween in that families visit a multitude of other family and friend’s homes during the three days. At each home they eat a huge meal like thanksgiving, and then receive gifts before leaving. In the countryside, it’s acceptable to just show up at someone’s home, and you’ll get the same treatment; a full meal, some aiirag (fermented mares milk), vodka, and a gift or two.

Every family prepares for about a week in advanced making hundreds and up to thousands of buuz per family; which are these steamed dumplings of mutton or beef:

They also buy or sew new deels and get rid of the old – kind of like a spring-cleaning. Basically, it’s a way to start the new years out right, organized, cleaned and well wished by all family and friends. It’s a really lovely holiday besides the pressure to eat a hundred buzz and take a hundred shots…

I celebrated with several families, for 4 days, I even got to go visit my host family up in Selenge – here’s a few pic’s and a little idea of what it’s like to celebrate Tsagaan Sar. 

When you first arrive at someone's home you must greet them (oldest first) with this saying, and a traditional kiss on each sides of the face, in which people will smell not kiss you...

Amar bain uu? Saihan shinij bain uu? (Which just some good wishes and happy new year)

Then you take some goodies from this (Ul boov)....

And this beef chest...

And then you take some pictures,

One of my favorite things was seeing these guys on the way to my host families home, it always shocks me that they just roam free out there.

what a manly camel, eh?

Stay tuned for an update on Khovsgol Ice festival soon!

Best,

Gracie

Shine onii mend! (Shine jiliin barieen mend hurgay) Saikhan baerisn uu? Happy new years, how was your holiday?

As per usual I’ve slacked on my blogging duties and I’m much overdue for an update about Mongolia, Moogi and me. My apologies, I hope this post fulfills all your wildest dreams about what life is like here in the tundra ;).

Lucky me celebrated new years stateside in the warmth of family and the Florida sun, but back here in Erdenet there were ice sculptures and ice slides to warm your soul. It must be the year of the Elephant because here’s Dumbo welcoming 2013 a couple tusks shy, but still standing strong.  (I do know there’s no year of the elephant, and that looks nothing like Dumbo, but I have yet to understand why I’ve found so many Elephant statues here in Erdenet and felt I needed to make note of it. I have full respect and admiration for elephants, so nothing against them, but why they’re sculpted here befuddles me). It’s the year of the Dragon, btw.

I would have loved to see this ice art before kids added their own crafty touch, but what I did see was preetty neat and here are some of the photos I snapped before my fingers froze.

I loved the way the light reflected through the ice and I was trying to capture the sunset through it before I got dragged into taking pictures of kiddos going down the slides… which was much more entertaining anyway.

For a cultural note, the whole time I conversed, took pictures, helped a girl put on her backpack and fix her gloves, not once did a parent come to intervene or really make any note of me, quite frankly, I didn’t see any parents except for those of children under 5.

Most children here are allowed to walk home after school and are pretty darn independent (A lot of kids get cell phones by the age of 7 or earlier – that's probably happening in the states now too) And as all children do, they loved looking at the photos I took and would make me wait for them to slide and then run over to see what they looked like. It’s fun what a camera can bring to any situation.

Had I been in America, I probably would have been suspiciously perceived and most definitely not surrounded by children wanting me to take their photo, or offer me candy. These children don’t fear strangers, and certainly not blonde ones who stick out in a crowd – even being covered head to toe in winter gear. I love that about Mongolia; everyone looks out for one another, especially children, and there isn’t that aspect of fear that we find so much in the states. That isn’t to say that everyone here is a godsend and will care for your child as their own sweet angel, but the sense of community is still strong and I think that’s great.

Moogi had a wonderful holiday and became reunited with her inner hudoo (countryside) dog. She stayed with a American/French family just outside Erdenet with her buddy Baavka (Bear) in a huge hashaa (fenced in yard), but she thought that wasn’t big enough and escaped to explore more of the hudoo – I want to think she was trying to find her way home but she was most likely just embracing her curiosity to explore, and wanting to eat all of the most disgusting scraps a pup can find. Now, squeaky clean, she’s home and rolling on her back for tummy rubs. What a lucky life that dog has.

Back in America, I probably had the most adverse reverse cultural shock ever. I think I just was overwhelmed and I felt like I was trying to hide under a turtle shell. I’ve lost my ability to converse coherently for long periods of time, mainly due to the fact that English was all around and my ears tuned into everything just because I could understand what people were saying. It made it quite difficult for me to focus. Sorry if I seemed distant or aloof, but my mind was overwhelmed!

Family photo in Florida, you can only imagine what Ian 

did to elicit such a response in the rest of us ;).

I’m happy to back in Erdenet and my old routine, yoga picked right back up, and we’re showing Star Wars in our English movie club.

Another culture note;

Sometimes for yes and no Mongolians just use sounds; tsuuuuu - yes ksuuuu – no, very similar to the breathing noises Mr. Darth Vader in Star Wars makes, therefore it is said that many Mongolians just think Darth Vader is saying yes and no throughout the movie.

And I also just found out a factoid – Vader is actually “father” in Dutch – who knew?!?

Best to all of you and hope you had a wonderful new years!

If you haven't already, check out my photo's on Flickr, click below: 

Gracie's Flickr website

Summer reflection

Ppffftttt, I just looked at my last blog post and “parched after a 5 mile run” shocked me…5 miles is nothing in my book anymore. Especially right after I cruised through the Hovsgol Lake marathon with my friend Brittany like this:

Summer has practically come and gone now, and it wasn’t much of a summer here, in fact there were two flash floods in Erdenet, so a couple of our roads are in disarray with chunks of pavement missing. I was happy to see that they’re going to put in storm drains, eventually, the pipes have been sitting on the side of the road for over month now.

To recap, in June I focused on Nutrition at my hospital, and my most memorable class was when I taught healthy cooking to the head nurses. Basically, I wrote up some healthy salad recipes that are easy and affordable to make, but not the norm for Mongolians. We chatted about why those recipes are healthier than some of the traditional salads Mongolians make, and then I passed out the recipe directions (in Mongolian). As I started talking about the ingredients 17 pairs of hands took over. It’s rare to find a Mongolian woman who can’t cook, and I was thrilled with how enthusiastically they got right to business. I basically just stayed back and watched, but answered questions as needed. The results were delicious and the nurses still chat about it, so I plan to do another class soon; apparently they all want to learn how to make pizza. It’s a good thing I’m an expert on making homemade pizza dough now.

Then in July, my parents came to visit. On arrival to Erdenet we started celebrating Naadam festival (the three manly sports). First, we dressed the part, then we at the traditional food and drink and then celebrated with the locals.

Wearing traditional Deels

Eating Huushar

Drinkin Airag (Fermented Mare’s milk)

A Naadam racehorse and two jockey finishers

 Then we took what I thought would be a relaxing cross-country adventure, where the road looked like this most of the time:

It was so bumpy that we couldn’t do anything but sit and hold on.

We saw quite a few things, but highlights included the Tsenger hot springs in Arhangai, riding a Yak, yak, yak, and hanging out by the pristine Hovsgol Lake, where we went horseback riding, canoeing, and where I ran my first marathon.

I was quite surprised about the trail; apparently I missed the memo that what I actually signed up for is what’s called an ultra marathon. That meaning, this is not a road race, so don’t expect to come close to your goal time, and yes, you must carry a backpack full of emergency medical supplies and at least a liter and a half of water.

The race started at 4:30am sharp in pitch black and we immediately headed into the forest on a root-infested trail. (Good thing I had my required torch, for without a light you would have been screwed) After emerging out of the woods, surprisingly ankle twist free, phew, we took what was initially a road that climbed up 2,400 ft to about the top of a 7,500 ft mountain. I didn’t run this. I attempted a power walk and madly ate cliff energy blocks and sucked down water. My calves screamed at me. I also may have stopped to take some photos: (Who does that in a marathon race? Weird, but seriously, the view was amazing.)

After those few switchbacks, the trail, now only accessible by horseback and foot lead to a 45-degree downhill where at several points I almost dove into a summersault. It would have been the most effective way to descend, and I’m pretty sure that's what the 100km runners were doing, for their paths in the grass were much larger than a foot.

We emerged into a lush mystical mossy forest, which was magical until I tripped on a root that face planted me, and then we started another 1,000 ft climb. This time with fallen trees as obstacles. There was another summersault worthy downhill and then the trail finally merged to a windy dirt road for the last 7 miles.

Looking back, I had a blast, it was quite an adventure and I was glad to have a running buddy to share it with. I may have caught the marathon bug as well, and have started training for the Gobi half-marathon that's at the end of the month.

In August, Eric came to visit and we visited Amarbaysalant Monastery (which is one of the few working Monasteries that wasn’t completely destroyed during the soviet occupation) and hung out in Erdenet where we picked strawberries in the woods, and went out to karaoke. It was a lovely, relaxing visit, but much too short.

Right after Eric left I had my Mid-Service training, which marked the halfway point of my service. It was mostly a group discussion and a sharing time for all us to reflect back on our experiences thus far. In many ways it was refreshing to think about project we want to work on and to look back at our accomplishments, but it was tough to look at our failures, which in most cases, outnumbered the successes.

Most everyone came here with a multitude of goals and ideas to add to the spark of growth of this country, but now having worked in this environment, where motivated counterparts and resources are limited, and change, on the whole, undesirable. Many of us, me included, have reached a point of realization that the major goals and ideas we once had about what our service would be like are unattainable.

Coming to that conclusion has absolutely been hard to grasp, and it’s exhaustingly disappointing as well. My work in community development is still raw. I only have experience working in community development and behavior change in this one country, this one culture, with quite a bit of history and tradition, that to this day is constantly remembered and respected. I still want to make a difference and help my community solve its problems and improve its health, but my expectations of what that success looks like are more realistic. It’s all about the individual; it’s about making a positive impact on one person that starts the change.

Now, how to do that. I’m back to stage one; getting the individual to see the real needs that need to be addressed, not the needs that are just an acquisition of a product.

So, here’s to year two

A day in the life of a PCV in Mongolia

Last week, after a 5 mile run in 75-degree weather I was parched (WHAT, it’s warm!?, yup, well almost, still in the 40’s at night)

So I stopped by a delguur (neighborhood shop) to get some water. I only had a 1,000tugs, equivalent to about 75cents and wanted to get the most outta my buck.

I asked the woman in Mongolian the price of some water, in which she replied rudely in Russian, I asked again in Mongolian, in which I was once again spoken to in Russian. Finally, I looked at her asked politely “in Mongolian?” and the guy next to me was like, “LADY, the girl isn’t Russian” and a small smile formed upon her face and she spoke politely to me in Mongolian and I finally got myself a bottle of water.

Outside, the man and his children watched me share the water with Moogi, which, I’m sure he was explaining to his kids only crazy people are friends with dogs like that.  But, we talked about how hot it was, he asked me where I was from/ what I did, and we bid our farewells.

It’s probably not all that common for PCV’s worldwide to get spoken to in TWO foreign languages everyday, and it’s really not for Mongolian PCV’s either, but Erdenet has a pretty plush Russian community and with my blonde hair and blue eyes, they automatically assume I’m one of them. It’s always a little boggling and I sometimes think I’m an idiot for not grasping the language when I don’t understand someone, but then I realize, oh, right, that’s Russian, whoa, shopkeeper, speak Mongolian.

I wanted to make this post about what a day at work is like, but I got distracted so I’ll start over.

Every weekday starts out about the same, most of the time I’ll walk the 25mins to work but if not, I’ll hop in a cab, well, let’s be real, I won’t take any cab. I have favorites.

There’s this sweet lady with a red mini-mobile that waits outside for me. I swear she knows when I’m running late and she’ll be there, chilaxin’ in the mobile. How can I refuse? Plus she waves to me if she sees me walking. She knows when I need her. And I always make her smile.

If I’m walking, I pass the GOK (Mining Company) Jumbo tron, in which every morning this is playing:

I find it strange, but it never fails to “pump me up”.

When I get to work I’ll fiddle around for a bit; make some coffee, chat with my cp and the others who stroll in the office by the sweet aroma of a real brew. I’ll share the coffee. Then, at 9:15 I make my rounds roping up people for my 30 minute yoga class.

It wasn’t until recently that my cp’s (counterparts) started coming to my class, as it’s consistently been the hardcore Tai Chi gramps and grams that stick around after their morning workout.

But, it’s evolving, so I’m evolving.

I started making music playlists for my classes and they dig it. I actually forgot my jams one day and got a “get it together” look from one of the Tai Chi grams, so I won’t let that happen ever again.

I’m not a certified yoga teacher, so I keep it pretty basic, plus, I’m not about to attempt explaining this in Mongolian:

Nor can any of my students do that without potentially hurting themselves.

I teach mostly in Mongolian, I’ve got right, left, leg, arm, knee, elbow, stand, straight, turn, sit, do this, and a few other commands down, well at least I think. In between the grunts and groans I still frequently hear mummers of:

“What’s happening now?”

“Which leg?”

“Psshh, turn the other way!”

“I can’t do that!”

“What did she say?”

I count in English and sometimes I get others to join in which makes me pretty proud.

 - Memorization through movement, it’s an English-and-yoga-in-one class. -

Granted, it’s only numbers, but many of my students have never spoken a word of English in their life before this, nor as older adults plan to take on the challenge of learning any new language.

So the yoga finishes, and I usually start my day off on a great high. Sometimes I stay and show people other exercises, or introduce myself to new students. There are consistently between 5-20 people every morning so I think it’s pretty successful, and at this point I’m feeling confident that before I finish my service the Physical Therapist, Naranhuu (who’s room we use) or one of the students will be able to lead the class once I’m gone, and it might be…. Peace Corp’s favorite word, SUSTAINABLE. Fingers crossed.

Today though, one of my favorite cp’s told me that she had to stop coming to yoga because she was losing weight. I asked, “Isn’t that a good thing? In which, she replied, “but, I’m just losing weight in my butt and boobs”.

That's one pretty good excuse.

Dang, this post is getting pretty long and I’m only to 10 o’clock in my day.

In May, most of my days were spent Yahoo Messengering it up with the Health Department training manager, Enkjargal, to help them plan an Anti-Smoking event that happened on May 26^th. We focused it around prevention for children and had some contests; poster, chalk drawings, a run, and health screenings for adults. We also passed out information on the harms of smoking and tips for quitting.

Currently, there isn’t any type of program to help smokers quit or any nicotine patches, or special gum to help people ease their cravings, so I’ve been researching tips, tricks, and trainings that I can teach the nurses at my hospital to share with their patients. I had one American Heart Association document translated that helps people identify their smoking triggers and how to deal with those triggers, and the nurses explained it to those interested.

Our hospital also recently became, allegedly, a “NO SMOKING” Hospital. So we got our nurses involved.

I wasn’t aware all gov’t organizations were involved and it turned out pretty nuts; they had everything from a demo with Mongolian Army shooting blanks to getting pictures with a Bazooka, to contortionists and Tai Chi exercise, to the library promoting their books, vegetable sales, and my hospital nurses and I ran a 3K.

Contortionists

The 3K race start

And we're off!

Racing to the finish

Runners from my hospital and winner's with our awards.

I placed 2nd out of 45.

English Class has basically fizzled out for the summer, so I’m done with that for a while.

I’ve continued doing some basic Nutrition classes centering around tips on how to cut carbs and fats out of meals. But, Mongolians pretty much think I’m crazy when I tell them to discard extra fat. They LOVE fat, so, I’m not quite sure how effective those have been. I did get some people interested in using herbs instead of salt, and a couple people asked about buying olive oil.

My hospital is also now swarming with pregnant women (I know for a fact Mongolians get jiggy with it during long winter) So my counterparts and I have done some nutrition education and awareness about necessary women’s health screenings for them.

We’re also going to try and do some more alcohol awareness this summer since Naadam is a major drinking holiday. I want to put the focus on “responsible drinking” and don’t get so drunk you pass out in public. (Not really, but it’s reality – there were TWO men passed out drunk in the children’s park yesterday.)

But, finding time on the local channels has become increasingly difficult as political campaigning takes control. Some guy had a mobile jumbo-tron set up in my neighborhood this weekend blasting his slogan. It’s an election year and it’s looking like extravagant promises are being thrown up left and right.

And that sums it up for work.

I went to Khelgant, a town about an hour away a couple weekends ago where my friend Kari lives and helped start building a greenhouse.

Khelgant

Greenhouse!

 While there, I  snapped this pic of an emee (grandma) who is trying to save a litter of puppies. That's her pride and joy she's holding.

Moogi has recently become very popular with my neighborhood kids and they have proclaimed that when Moogi has babies they all want one. I can’t confess to them that that's never going to happen.

On my way back to work from lunch today I spotted an adorable old Mongol man in a beautiful Deel sitting on the stonewall lining the sidewalk. He must have spotted me too, because as I passed him he let rip several alarming flatulencies.

I wasn’t impressed.

Happy summer!

Gracie

The joys of training a dog in a particularly unfavorable environment

Unfavorable environment in that every inch of land in my neighborhood is covered with something utterly irresistible for a dog; from a multitude of fresh “meat still on the bone” bones, to trash, feces, the ever fascinating used condom, and stray dogs, getting Moogi to return on command has been quite the challenge.

I should have started her training much earlier, but the idea of spending more than the required 15 minute pee/poop walk in -20+ degrees wasn’t favorable on my end. The frozen land had also yet to reveal it’s hidden treasures. So alas, here I am, routinely attempting to captivate Moogi with fresh pieces of blood dripping raw meat, and ever enthusiastic praises so I can let her roam off her leash, and not look like a foolish American chasing after a mutt.

It seldom works.

At this point you may think, “why not just keep her on the leash?” well, she’s a dog, and thus enjoys running quite a bit more than I do. I also believe the training period is critical in building a bond and trust between human and canine. Plus, with a trained pup, you have a lesser chance of losing your friends who may not love your dog as much as you do, and of who don’t enjoy the licks and butt sniffs (which unfortunately Moogi is very fond of as of now, and we're working on it).

Upon the first night of acquiring that sweet, trash covered, matted stray, I knew I was in for a challenge, but the expected obstacles have become exponential. My initial concern was having my puppy get knocked up, but once that was resolved…snip, snip, I soon became aware of the gold mine of puppy sights and smells my neighborhood possessed.

I have no way besides within my apartment to train Moogi within a controlled environment, and it sucks.

Here’s variety of example situations I’ve found Moogi in that may be slightly uncommon to those who have trained your dogs in America:

Gnawing on a horse’s skull (at least a dozen times)

Dragging freshly chopped sheep’s feet (x2)

Unknotting used condoms (x3)

Hiding under a cow carcass (x3)

Chasing cows in the middle of a roundabout car intersection (at the intersection once, but other cow chases, at least a dozen)

Romping with feral strays (practically every day)

Entranced with horses, goats, yaks, or sheep (at least once a week)

Breath wreaking of fresh human feces (luckily only once, but we were trapped in a car of 9 people with her for 15 minutes directly afterward, poop still stuck on her teeth)

And my favorite,

Returning to me after a fresh dip in the sewage drain (x2)

I should have left her in the street after that one, but I’ve dealt with my fair share of feces covered/ creek water covered dogs and figured it couldn’t be that much worse… oh, but it was.

Nevertheless I’ve always managed to get her back, mainly on her own accord, but recently, I’ve found that running her for miles, after which she is thoroughly exhausted (as am I), she’ll come straight to me. And slowly, as the phenomenon of getting let free becomes more frequent, she’s starting to understand that when she comes back and is attached back to the leash, it’s not going to be the last time she gets to explore the gold mine.